#i got off work and wanted to throw something out!! throw my hat back in the ring!!

[writerbee-ffs]

“Art Thou Forgiven” A Sinners Fanfic

You’d always admired your Daddy’s love for music. Sometimes you questioned if he actually loved it more than he loved you but you were sure that was your Momma’s doing. Her and Daddy were always bickering about something. Mostly because of music and how it managed to take him places that never had any room for her to be apart of. He’d tell her that the music was his escape. A place that made him happy because living in the souths of Mississippi and working for the white man wasn’t a place you wanted to stay grounded in. Just like Daddy loved his music, you loved someone equally important but just like Momma, you hated the life they chose and how it never included you…

The Mississippi Delta, 1932

The sun beamed on the back of your neck as you made your way towards the market. You silently crused yourself because why the fuck wouldn’t you grab the hat off your kitchen table before walking in the thick Mississippi heat.

You let out a slow breath as you walked inside of the Chow’s market anticipating the cool air. Grabbing basket, you nodded towards Lisa, Grace and Bo Chow’s daughter, who was working the register. She gave a half uninterested smile continuing to check customers out.

You strolled through the aisle slowly just so you could take in the crisp air a little longer. You would often hear the ‘welcome’ bell from the door ring as you walked around.

“Daaaaaaaddy?!” Bo’s daughter yelled just enough for him to come from sliding out of the back.

“What?” He questioned throwing his hand towel out of his hand.

Making your way towards the dry goods in the back section, you heard a familiar voice. “Bo Chow” Your ears perked up as your head ducked towards the lower parts of the seasoning.

“Look at what the damn cat dragged in.”

You dropped the basket making your way to the exit of the market. You didn’t want to look back because if one was in town that meant the other one wasn’t too far off.

“Lil Slim.” You’d always hated the nickname but when folks around town saw you they knew exactly who you belonged to. Thee Delta Slim. You adorned the same features from your cocoa skin, full lips to you brown sleepy eyes. “Don’t make me call you again, woman”

You halted in your tracks before turning slowing, kicking up dust in the process. You met his gazed as you sauntered towards him. “Elijah?” You let out more as a question. “I see you’re back in town”

“Elijah? Damn Lil Slim first name basis?” He looked you up and down taking another pull before flicking the blunt from his lips. You know I saw you runnin’ out that damn store like you seen a ghost or sum shit..” Rolling your eyes slightly, you moved from his eyes to his hands due to the rustling. “I bought up that lil’ basket on my way out. Call it a gift…”

“I’m just fine, Smoke.” You pursed your lips tightly together so he wouldn’t notice the lie that had left your lips. “The devil never gives gifts only favors.” You wanted to hurt his feelings so he could leave you alone like he did 7 years ago.

“Take this bag, woman.” A chord hadn’t even been struck by your words. He was use to the sass flying out your mouth. He’d grabbed your hand swiftly dropping the straps into your palm. “I’ll be seeing you, Lil Slim.”

He jumped in his truck without another word. The engine purring as he made his way down the dirt road.

*

“(Y/N)! I’ll be back girl. Gots to go down to the station and make a lil money before tonight’s show at the club.” He’d kissed your cheek, smelling of corn liquor, before walking out the door.

You were too hot and tired from your walk back to disagree long enough to stop him. Slim might have been making money but you only saw it in the form of a bottle turnt to his lips. You sat on the small sofa gathering yourself before making your way to the kitchen. This had become a routine on your days off from working. Making a market run, cleaning up a little and cooking something heavy for Slim to put on his stomach after a night of drinking and caring on down at the club.

You wanted more for yourself but after your Momma had passed on and the Moore men leaving, you felt the need to try to get closer to Slim because he was all you had left. Ol’ drunk and all.

You let up all the windows trying not to get the smell of catfish frying in your hair. A couple of hours ago, your best girlfriend had invited you out to this new Juke Joint earlier after hearing some dudes talking about how some other dudes got shot over trying to steal liquor from the owner. You were a little worried about going but you needed to let your hair down and have some fun.

*

You could hear the music as you and Pinky pulled into the lot full of cars straight towards the middle to show off her brand new gift. Pinky, also known as Priscilla, was your best friend that loved to show off the gifts that her husband bought her. Since she hated her much older husband she was always down to cut loose. Her husband knew how she got down but apparently he did the same. That was their business and you never asked too many questions but always listened when she needed to talk.

“(Y/N), don’t that sound like your daddy on that harmonica?” She smiled taking your arm to loop around hers. “Ooou it’s hot in here tah’night.”

“Well don’t y’all look like some mighty fine woman?” Another familiar voice. “How you doing, Lil Slim?” He smiled helping you after Pinky into the threshold of the club. “Delta in hea’ got these people feelin’ good.”

You smiled giving him a slight hug taking in the full atmosphere. “Doing good, Cornbread. How’s the wife?” “You in here working the door?” All he could do was nod and tell you that she was doing well before you were whisked away to the bar.

“Now what we drinking, ladies?” The bartender asked going back and forth between you and the gentleman sitting at the end.

“Whateva’ they asking fo’.” Although they were twins, you could always tell them apart. You didn’t even want to look up but you also wanted him to know he didn’t have any effect on you anymore. Neither of them did. The bartender had passed rounds of moonshine with fruits inside.

“SJ” He grinned flashing that fancy smile your way. He knew how much you hated “Lil Slim” back in the day so he’d decided to call “SJ” short for “Slim Jr”.

“Hello Elias” You grumbled “How you doing?” You asked pulling yourself from the bar after taking the drink in one gulp. You shimmied onto the dance floor with a random man. You really didn’t care how or what he was doing these days. Last you heard the SmokeStack twins had went north to cause trouble.

You kept your feet moving no matter the song. You’d even witnessed Sammie and your damn Daddy playing a couple of songs together. You noticed everything in the joint. You’d been taking mental images of the night’s festivities and how everyone seemed to be freed by their burdens. How they came in letting loose and feeling good.

“Why’d you sto-“ you turned to ask the guy you had pretty much held captive to avoid Elias from coming your way.

“Stack, this your woman?” The man was already a foot away from you surrendering you to the devil himself.

“Scary ass nigga” You spat looking up at him. “You love messing up a good thang, don’t yah?” All he did was grin at you showing a glint of gold. That sly smirk had gotten you in so much trouble in the past. “Well?” You questioned releasing the shawl that matched your dressed perfectly onto a near by chair. “You gon ask me to dance or what?”

There it was. You giving into him without him saying a word. That was how it went with you and them. Elijah was a giver while Elias loved to take.

“Damn SJ” he spun you around placing your back against his chest. “You not so lil no mo’” you felt him touching your hips adding pressure to his grip. “Seven years did you some good.”

“Hope this isn’t your attempt to get me in some back room, Stack.” He guided your hips into a slow grind. “Half of these Mississippi Delta women have their eyes on you and Smoke. Won’t you go grind on one of them”

As soon as those words left your lips, she’d approached them attempting to cut in.

“Well well…if it isn’t Little Miss Slim” Her southern drawl was laced with venom. “Not so little anymore are we” She smirked. “Maybe you should go cool down with a drink, honey. You’re looking parched”

You couldn’t understand her issue with you. You knew her and Stack would mess around every now and then but everyone knew that their relationship wasn’t serious. Never would be and never could be.

“That’s (Y/N) to you” You smiled as you slowed your hips down. Elias still behind you. “It’s a beautiful night. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other and here you are ready to cause drama” “I thought you white women were supposed to be classy?” You couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t hate Mary but you hated how out of character she could be around Elias or Stack as she loved to call him.

You had already understood that Mary and Stack’s relationship wasn’t serious purely based off of it being forbidden. She was a white passing dainty woman and he was a black man. This world would never accept it but that was the danger was the foundation of it. Elias was the one that had pursued you. He’d always say you were different and too damn independent for your own good. You could read him like a book and he could do the same. Neither of you ever acted on your feelings but you both knew that there was something there.

“S’cuse me?” Her face went pale as you felt Elias’ lips smiling into your neck.

“Stack, you gon let her talk to me like that?” She’d moved on to fighting with him. She knew better than to keep going on because eventually you would get tired and get physical.

“What you want me to say, woman?” He let you go but you stayed in between them. “I told you to stay the fuck away from me at that station.”

“Mmmh…” “Well make me leave then, Stack!” She muttered. They bickered completely ignoring your presence as if you’d somehow managed to become invisible in seconds.

You had had enough of their bickering before it started. You made your exit looking for Pinky so you could leave and make it home so you could make sure Slim didn’t pass out on the floor instead of his room.

“Lil Slim, you seen Stack?” Elijah asked as you were walking around the area.

“I’ll tell yah if you take me home?” You smiled attempting to make a way. “You know you can’t let your hopeless friend be stranded and walking home in these parts at night.”

His hard exterior softened but he never smiled. You could tell he was thinking it over. You knew he wouldn’t let you walk at night but after finding out the Juke Joint belonged to him and Elias, you knew he had to be here for the business.

“I’ll have Stack do it.” “Last I seen Pinky she was making her way to the back with Preacher talking about ice cream.” He shook his head a little confused as he moved towards the crowd.

“He was arguing on the dance floor with Mary last time I saw him!” You called sitting at the bar again. You knew they had probably moved on from the argument into each other pants but who were you to care. He wasn’t yours.

*

After arguing with Elias the whole way, you’d finally made it back to your place. Turns out him and Mary had did more than argue just like you knew they had.

“What’s on your mind?” He spoke cutting the engine looking towards you. “Thinking about us?”

You looked over at him, pulling the shawl closer to your body. “Stack, you and Mary are meant for each other. All you do is lie and cause trouble.” You were hurt and he knew. You were tired of being second to her when it came to him. You couldn’t deal with it anymore.

“Stack?” Was all he mustered up before touching your thigh. “Mary ain’t got shit on you, SJ. You know that, right?” He rubbed circles into your thigh with his finger. “Mary ain’t the one that i want to make it back home to when I’m away.”

“But Mary gives you what you want?” You’d never had sex. You wanted to save yourself for your husband. That was thing yah Momma had drilled into you. ‘Don’t no man want a ran through woman.’ A part of you hoped that would be Elias but he was too caught up in the high life and the web that Mary had spun around him to notice you and cater to your body in that way. “It’s fine, honey.” Your lips curved into a tight lipped smile. “You’ll always belong to Mary and the streets. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just don’t get hurt messing with ha’” You surrendered grabbing up your purse while you touched the handle of the door prepared to get out.

“But Mary ain’t the one who’s got my heart, (Y/N)…” He grab your thigh catching you off guard halting your movement. As you looked up at him you were met with his deep brown eyes staring at you softly before laying a kiss on your lips. “I miss you. I love you.” He mumbled against your lips. “My heart belongs to you, woman.”

You couldn’t get caught up with him. He’d left and never made things official with you. You were holding out for a miracle from the devil . And you were tired of waiting. “Mary and Smoke have your heart equally. There’s no room for me in it.” You looked down, “Take care of yourself, Elias.” You muster up taking your exit.

[faychanan]

#FAYCHANAN — “You see I think everything’s terrible anyhow,” she went on in a convinced way. Everybody thinks so—the most advanced people. And I know. I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything.” Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Tom’s, and she laughed with thrilling scorn. “Sophisticated—God, I’m sophisticated!” [as written by meg, 24, she/they. independent, private, mutuals only.]

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice part 2

part 1!

pairings! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend

warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.

it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.

he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.

you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.

but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.

but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.

you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.

you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.

“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”

you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.

“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.

“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.

“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”

you didn’t want to hear him say it.

“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”

he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.

“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.

“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“

“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”

“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”

he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.

“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.

you shake your head no.

“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”

you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.

“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.

“uh-“

you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.

“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.

“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.

you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”

his words were your final straw.

you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.

his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.

still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.

“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.

he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.

you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.

you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.

he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.

“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”

you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.

“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.

you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.

his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.

“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.

you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.

“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”

as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.

his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.

“this okay?” he asked.

you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.

he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.

as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.

“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”

his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”

you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.

his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.

your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.

“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.

you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.

“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”

“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“

you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.

you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.

a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!

tag list! (comment or message to be added or removed!)

@ifilwtmfc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @xcallmetaniax @moondustedlily @x-0-madi-0-x @tumb1rgir1z

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[citrusbarking]

THE FULL STORY IN ONE PART VERSON :3

Country son who was basically raised by his farmer dad alone, his ma died during labour so he has always been his dad’s special lil bud, never more then fatherly tho. But cause of this be raised his kid to be underlyingly emotionally spoiled by his dad and unable to share him, so when his dad hired a young handsome farmhand and was all close with him. It.made.him.sick.

it was only made worse by the fact the farm hand was obviously sweet on his pops…giving him those eyes, always following him around like a pup, drinking out of the same flask as him and savouring the taste….it was driving him mad, especially when he saw the way his old man seemed to notice and not call him out.

One day the boys tolerance hit the fan after finding his dad and the farmhand wearing his fathers prized Stetson hat…getting cozy in the barn, his dad watching him bent over the tractors engine, standing right behind him while whispering in his ear and pointing to parts…the son could tell that the farm boy wasn’t fixing shit. So….he “accidentally” put something in the lemonade he made them, only in the farmhands ofc, he could never disrespect his pa like that <3

So when the farmhand eventually collapsed the Dad assumes the poor kid just got heatstroke and drove him home. So once he arrives back at this farm already feeling upset and not in the mood for bullshit he notices his son…the boy in the his Dads prized Stetson hat looking cold and upset he sighed.

“aight boy, you know damn well you ain’t supposed to be wearin that. What’s gotten into yer? Yer inside for heavens sake. Have some respect-“ he began lecture, the man’s bushy brows furrowed only to be cut off by his sons whine.

“why don’t you ever treat me like that huh? All sweet and lovin…” he began, taking the hat off and holding it close “im your son..not him…stop lovin on him like that! You don’t need his help you got me old man!” He began to ramble, glaring and hugging the hat but his Father grunted and cut him off.

“boy..listen that’s a different kind of lovin….its been so long since your ma passed and well…the farmhands sweet on me kid…he is givin me a kinda loving I ain’t have since your ma passed…im lovin on him like a lover.”he softly said getting on his level on the couch….

“And why can’t you give that lovin to me?!” The son snapped, his voice almost pleading now. “Why is it only meant for your lover?! I-I could do better than him!! Plus-plus I’m more like ma then he is!” He was cut off-

”boy. No.” His father demanded, once again getting cut off, the tension rising

The almost growl in his pops voice made the son flinch , but he continued to hold his stance. “Why not? Why is the only person who’s allowed to get that type of affection from you your lover? What’s so wrong with me getting that too?”

and like that…the fathers patience just…snapped

“Yea? Yea you want me to give you a lovers affection?” The older, bigger man near growled….yanking the hat from his son’s hands and shoving it onto his head….

“you asked for this.”

His father doesn’t say a word to the boy as he suddenly yanks the the sons legs up and throws him over his shoulder, not even giving him the privilege of at least walking in instead of being carried. He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into the damned kid but he was set on scaring the boy into line.

“You want me to love on ya kid? Your so fuckin instant on your fathers lovin touch eh?” The father growled, his thick arm, strong with years of working and breaking in much bigger things than his son, easily holding the boys legs in place.

The man continued down the hall to his modest bedroom and threw the now flustered and nerves racked boy down on the bed. “Y-yea! Yea damn right I do! Don’t you want your son to be happ—“ the sons usual manipulative spiral was cut off by his fathers tough hand over his mouth.

“shuttup. Your getten what you fucken begged for boy. You wanna be my lover so damned bad so getting treated like it. And I don’t take back chat from my own damned heifers” his father growled while his hand tightened, his southern accent thickening with a cocktail deep rage something else. The boys eyes where wide and taken aback, his father was a firm but big oaf with him normally, gentle while spoiling him with so much attention…it was complete whiplash but he wasn’t one to back down.

his father could easily recognise it in the boys hardheaded determination in the boys eyes. “Stubborn, just like your old man. Heh” he sighed with a slightly exasperated chuckled, he leaned closer and growled into the boys ear “so damned set in getting what you want eh boy? Dont you get what’s gonna happen to your boy..” he grunted, easily lifting and twisting the boy around on the bed so he is laying on his tummy..

“I’m gonna breed ya in the damned bed you were made in kiddo…if your so determined that you’d be a good lover cause your more like your ma” he pushed his head into the pillows, a panicked little noise coming from the younger boy “then maybe I should fuck you the same way I did the night I knocked her up yea? on the same damned mattress. In the same position… breed you with the same seed your made out of…” his voice reverberated in the boys ear, his final statement punctuated with the sound of his belt unbuckling…

In one swift movement he yanked the boy to the edge of the bed, a deep fearful whirlwind starting in boys gut made him second guess himself about this, he just wanted to alll his dads love and attention like he always had but..this..this felt to far…His heart was racing, knowing that this was crossing a line he should never have approached but before he could calmly tap out he felt his pants and briefs hit the floor.

“wait-wait dad-I’m sorry- never mind I’m sorry!-“ he began to beg and kick a little only to be cut off by his face being pushed into the pillows from behind. The soild feeling of the front of his fathers thighs pressed against the back of his was gut churning, he hit the mattress and tried to get free but he was completely trapped as his father thick arm wrapped around his torso and raised his legs as his back was in a perfect little arch. The father whistled “jeez boy….maybe I should be thanken ya kiddo…been a long time since iv seen a sight like this…lets see just how much you’ve taken after your ma.” He muttered, freeing his arm to thumb open the shamefully wet slit between his sons shaking thighs, his kids muffled protests and panicked tap outs got more frantic..with a harsh open palmed slap to the boys soft butt he reminded him “oi. Remember….you asked for this.” He gruffed in his fatherly tone, sliding two thick fingers inside his little boy.

He slowly started pumping them, the plush gummy walls of his own kid clenching and begging for more as the boy cried for less…. “Atta boy! See? Look at ya….fuck…breakin in just as easy as your ma did…” he praised and let go of the boys hair..

Pleasure started to slowly build in his stomach. It felt so good, but the knowledge of what he was doing to his own father was making him feel guilty, which only made the pleasure burn even more.

“Is this..is this how you acted with m-mama?” The boy whimpered through blubbering lips…his tummy twisting the fingers where suddenly removed, a void he wanted stuffed. “D-dad?” He whimpered before, in one sudden harsh stroke his dad buried himself balls deep into his little boy, the stretch made him cry out in pained surprise.

his pace was harsh and rymathic “I don’t want you whining about me loving on the farm boy again after this or next time you’re on your knees in front HIM. Got it?” he growled through moan strained pants, sliding nearly the full way out then plunging all the way back, his head kiss his own sons cervix at a unforgiving pace. Hitting all the right spots in the slick tight walls. Soon he became undone was deep moans and gunts.

all the ruined kid could manage was a string of “ah-ah-ah” and singing the word dad over and over between sobs, his thighs shaking and clenching, he could feel where his dads cock hit every time. The boys noises started to run together as the pleasure started to burn hotter and hotter in his stomach. He gripped onto the sheets and anything else he could grab tighter, his breathing getting quicker and louder as suddenly he spasmed around his dads thick cock. Screaming his dad’s name through it, sobbing. The sudden tightness and sight of his own boys cummies just….completely blanked his mind as he made a final swift plunge into the boys cervix, his seed filling him…it had been years since he came…it over flowed the boys beaten womb…..

after a couple seconds of hazy glory the older man sighed slowly pulled out of his shaken and broken in boy “shh..shhh easy now..atta boy…” he whispered gently turning him onto his back “deep breaths….g-god dammit..” he groaned seeing the pleasure drunk look on his boys face “Your not..meant to want this..this was meant to be a reality check bud…not..feed into your perversion” he whispered almost shamefully, it was no use though…his dad came inside……now he wound have his dad all to himself..forever <3

[into-fiction]

just something that's been rattling around in my brain:

In a world where Fiyero never makes it to Shiz, he arrives at the Emerald City as a brainless prince roped into being the political boyfriend of Glinda the Good, Oz’s most darling public figure. At first, he thinks this is a pretty good gig, but there’s a level of mystery surrounding Glinda that gets darker and darker the more he learns. 

Like the fact that the Animals of Oz’s underground railroad keep trying to talk to her. 

Like the fact that the Wicked Witch of the West appears to be following her. 

Like the fact that she doesn’t remember anything from before four months ago, except a single name.

Elphie. 

(drabble below)

“Wait!” Fiyero cries, arm outstretched as though he can keep the witch from leaving. “Please,” he whispers. Desperate. Begging. “C-can you tell me why?”

Elphaba’s eyes narrow, her lips thin. “You don’t know?”

Fiyero shakes his head. 

Elphaba’s gaze skirts over him, appraising. “What do you think happened?” she asks, taking Fiyero aback. He swallows hard, collecting his thoughts. 

“I think they…I think they did something to her,” he confesses. His voice is barely more than a whisper, his palms clammy with sweat as his skin prickles with fear of being caught saying something so treasonous. But-

He’s had his suspicions for months now. 

Elphaba turns properly toward him, nodding sharply. “But do you know why?” she pushes. 

“I--” Fiyero breaks off, mind whirling. Why? Why would the Gale Force, the Wizard, whoever- why would they want Glinda to have amnesia? 

“No. I don’t.”

Elphaba tilts her head, gaze calculating. “Do you know who Madame Morrible is?” she asks, throwing Fiyero a little.

“The Press Secretary? I- yeah, I do. She’s close with Glinda, why?”

Something furious and wild flares in Elphaba’s emerald eyes, so much so Fiyero has to resist the urge to step back or reach for his hip. “You’re saying she had something to do with it,” he says. It’s not a question, but Elphaba nods anyway. 

“You catch on quick.”

Fiyero gulps. “She- she’s unsettling,” he responds. “Glinda spends a lot of time with her, but she’s rattled after. Won’t talk to me. Her meetings with Morrible or the Wizard are the only times I’m not allowed in the room.”

That, more than anything, had been the biggest red flag. But Elphaba still hasn’t answered his question. 

“What did Morrible do? Why is Glinda like this?”

Elphaba stares, silence stretching until Fiyero shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. Only then does she speak. “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”

A breeze stirs, swirling around the edges of Elphaba’s black cloak. Her chin tilts up, the wide brim of her hat casting sharp shadows over her face. “She’s like this because of me.” 

Fiyero feels the air get sucked out of him. “You?”

Elphaba nods, but this time it is rigid, stiff. Mechanic. She looks at him like she’s waiting for him to put the pieces together. 

“Because I wouldn’t conform.”

Fiyero’s head is spinning. He’s got all these pieces and he knows they fit together somehow if he just thinks. He’s never been known for his brain, but right now it’s working overtime. Morrible. The Wizard. The Wicked Witch. Glinda the Good. 

What? What is it? What is he missing? 

The answer comes slamming into him with the force of a bullet train. Or- maybe just a bullet. It pierces through his heart, ripping at the vulnerable core of him. “She’s a hostage,” he breathes, soft and horrified. 

Elphaba’s smile is the saddest he’s ever seen. “She’s leverage,” the witch explains. “Because Morrible knows I would never let her get hurt.”

Fiyero curls his fingers into fists, throat tight. “Because you love her,” he chokes out. “Don’t you?”

Elphaba’s shoulders slump, something almost like grief ghosting across her face. “You do, too,” she says instead of answering. “I can tell.”

Fiyero stammers, shaking his head. “I-it’s not like that,” he protests immediately. “It’s just a job.”

But Elphaba’s eyes are all too knowing. “No it’s not,” she states calmly. “Glinda is…she’s sunshine. She’s warm and she’s beautiful and she brightens your day. She’s so easy to love.”

The way she says it, soft and fond, tears at Fiyero’s chest, making his heart clench as he takes in her worn appearance. “It’s- it’s not like that,” he says again. Because it isn’t. Fiyero cares for Glinda, more than he probably should, but after just a few minutes of talking to her, he knows, intimately-

He doesn’t love her like Elphaba does.

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars Ch. 13

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Word Count- 2.6k

Warnings- Swearing, Karen’s

A/N- This is just a TINY chapter to get something out to you guys. Being in college SUCKS but we must prevail or whatever I guess. Anyway, I’ll get working on an actual canon chapter as soon as I can.

“If I have to bring this plate back to the cooks one more time because it is, quote on quote, “Too cold,” I’m actually going to quit,” I gesture to the plated steak in my hands as I put it on the metal counter for one of the cooks to take. Adrian our resident chef gives me an, “Are you serious” look and I shrug my shoulders at him.

“Hasn’t that been the 2nd time she’s sent it back,” Alastair questions me as he looks over to the blonde Karen across The Grill.

I rub a hand over my face in exhaustion, “Fourth, actually. Twenty bucks say she’s going to ask for the steak on the house,” I raise an eyebrow at my friend who smirks.

“I’ll take that action,” He reaches his hand out and we shake on it. 

I hear the ding of a bell behind me and turn to see the chef with the heated-up steak and if I weren’t pissed off as well I’d laugh at the annoyed look on his face. With a thank you, I grab the plate and walk it over to the blonde woman. I place the plate on her table and without a thank you or even an acknowledgement she pokes the steak and then huffs as she throws it back on the plate.

“It’s still cold. I want this taken off my bill,” I fight back an eye roll at her words.

“You didn’t even take a bite, Miss,” I try to reason with her and she dares to roll her eyes at me.

“I didn’t need to, to know that it’s cold. Either refund me or get the manager,” She turns around in her seat and crosses her arms like an actual child.

“Listen lady you can’t just-”

“Good evening,” Matt cuts me off from the start of my rant, “What seems to be the issue here?”

I whip around to look at Matt who shoots me a look and leans down to me, “I got this, don’t need you fighting the customers,” He jokes and I shoot him back a look as I huff and walk back to Alastair who was watching the whole interaction with a smirk.

“You owe me $20,” I hold out my hand and he huffs and pulls out a $20 bill from his black slacks. Even though he’s a bartender, he chooses to wear Versace and other designer brands to work. 

“Thank you,” I smile as I pocket the bill and shoot my friend a smile. 

We stand together and watch the dumpster fire, that is Matt trying to reason with the Karen. 

“So… what are your plans for after work,” Alastair asks me as he looks at his nails. 

“Why? Want to hang out,” I question.

“Uh…ya! But first I have to make a quick stop,” He says absentmindedly.

“That’s no problem.”

—

“Why are we at Elena’s house? You guys aren’t friends,” I question Alastair as he gets out of the driver’s side of his Porsche and comes over to open my door. 

“We could be…”

I look at my friend suspiciously and then back to the quiet house in front of us and I feel my shoulders instantly tense up.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Alastair stops moving and looks down at me wearily and shyly smiles.

“I’m going to kill you if this is a surprise party,” I threaten him and he grabs me by my shoulders and drags me up to the front door.

“Smile wide, babe.”

—

“Happy Birthday!”

I try to push a smile onto my face as I stare at my friends as they jump out from random corners of the Gilbert living room as I enter. 

Caroline, Elena, and Jenna all wear birthday hats and big smiles as they look at me. Ric stands behind Jenna with a small smile on his face and Tyler stands behind Caroline. Damon is currently scowling in the corner and surprisingly my little brother, who got back from camp 2 days ago, and Jeremy are standing next to each other looking like they just got done wrestling. 

“Are you surprised,” Caroline exclaims as she runs over to me and pulls me into her embrace. I shoot a look over to Alastair who smirks.

“Sooooo surprised.”

Caroline seems to believe me as her smile gets bigger and Elena moves around her to hug me too.

“Happy late birthday, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Lena.”

Both Jenna and Ric come over to wish me a late happy birthday, and then they lead me to sit down in the living room that is fully decorated with every kind of birthday decoration ever. From streamers, balloons, banners, and anything else sparkly Caroline could get her hands on. I find myself smiling at the fact that this must have taken some time to set up, even though I dislike my birthday and celebrating it, it’s nice to know that I have friends who would do this for me. 

“Happy birthday Y/n,” Jeremy says to me as he and my brother start arm wrestling. 

“I called her on her actual birthday and said happy birthday to her so,” Theo said absentmindedly as he focused on beating his friend. 

“Thank you, Jeremy,” I shoot a glare at my little brother who smirks back. 

“Damon aren’t you going to say something,” Elena questions the brooding vampire who raises an eyebrow as he downs the rest of his wine. 

“You’re forgetting up until yesterday she lived with me. I already celebrated her birthday before you children,” I tense up slightly as I shoot a look over to Theo who looks confused at the mention of me living with Damon.

“Ya! He did! Since I spent the summer at the Salvatore house for my tiny vacation and all,” I try to cover it up and Theo has an unsure look on his face but Jeremy starts tugging back on his arm and they go back to arm wrestling one another. Since Theo doesn’t know about anything that has happened this summer I don’t really want to drop that bomb now or anytime soon, to be honest.

—

For the next hour, we all eat snacks prepared by Jenna and Elena, and then watch Theo and Jeremy challenge each other in anything they could possibly challenge one another with and I had to stand awkwardly as everyone sang happy birthday to me. Now I’m seated in a rocking chair in the living room with everyone watching me as I open up presents. I can practically feel my hands shaking as I feel everyone’s attention on me.

The first thing I open is a small card with a cute cat on the front, inside is a slip of paper that reads, “One free assignment,” I frown in confusion but when I look up Ric is shyly smiling at me.

“I didn’t really know what to give you, I’m kind of horrible with gift giving but I thought with how hectic everything is, and with Senior year coming up, you could use that to skip out on any assignment this year I give you.”

I nod and smile at him gratefully, “Thank you, Ric, that is really nice. I’ll definitely be using that,” I whisper out the last part.

“Open mine next,” Caroline exclaims as she hands me a big garment box with a big pink bow on it. I shoot her a raised eyebrow and she just rolls her eyes, “Open it hoe!’’

I sigh and undo the pretty bow, pick up the top of the white box, and look inside to find a beautiful silk blue dress. I grab the dress and hold it up, the light satiny fabric feels like heaven in my fingers. What has me blushing though, is the rather deep neckline.

“Caroline…”

“What! You’ll look beautiful in it! It goes with your complexion!”

I look back at the dress and as much as I want to give her back, the clearly expensive dress, a bigger part of me doesn’t want to part with it. 

“Thank you Care, it’s beautiful.”

Caroline smiles to herself proudly and saunters back to stand next to Tyler who makes me frown as I watch him reach into his pocket pull out a 100-dollar bill and hand it to me.

“Tyler I’m not accepting that,” I scowl at him and he places it on the table in front of me.

“Either you take it right now or I’ll just come to your work tomorrow and tip you it,” He smirks and taps the bill, “Happy Birthday!”

I groan as Jenna rushes over to me and hands me a little gift box, I smile up at her as she looks like a child on Christmas, “You didn’t have to Jenna.”

“You shush you! Open it,” She excitedly says as she gestures to the box in my hands.

I smile and shake my head as I open the box to find a small silver bracelet with a Y/B/S gem in the center. My mouth goes slack as I look at the beautiful piece of jewelry.

“Jenna, it’s beautiful,” I say and she quickly takes it from me and unclasps the latch so she can put it on me. 

“I saw it and thought of you,” At the older woman’s words I have to swallow the lump in my throat and fight back the tears in my eyes. Choosing to focus on the cold metal that is now gracing my left wrist. 

“Thank you. I love it.”

“I guess that leaves me.”

I look up to see my best friend pull a big dark blue birthday bag out from behind the couch she was sitting on. The size of it takes me by surprise. 

“Elena…”

“Shush,” She says as she places the huge bag in my lap. I have to reach my hand in without looking to grab whatever is in it. My fingers instantly touch what I believe to be leather. I pull the thing out, push the blue bag away, and place it on the floor. When I look back at the leather thing in my lap I realize it’s a messenger bag. A rather expensive messenger bag by the look of the dark brown leather and the silver clasps.

“It even has your initials,” Elena says shyly as she points to the engraving on the corner of the bag. My smile slightly drops when I see, Y/f/n Y/m/n Y/l/n. Mostly because of the last name part. 

“You don’t like it… I knew it was too much. I should’ve gotten you the books I picked out,” Elena mumbles to herself and I’m quick to stop her.

“No! No, I love it. Truly Elena, thank you so much. I’m going to use it for school,” I smile up to her and I’m happy to see the dimples making their way back onto my friend's face as she smiles back at me. 

“Thank you all so much. This is really too much and I can’t thank you enough.”

They all say things like how I deserve it or don’t worry about it and such. Except Damon who hasn’t moved from his spot. 

“Wait,” Caroline whips around to Alastair, “What did you get her?”

Alastair smirks and then glances at the clothes I’m wearing, “Theo let me into her room earlier. I dropped my presents off there.”

I scowl at my little brother who is fighting back a laugh.

“The bag is also from me,” Jeremy says and Elena shoves him and tells him to shut it. 

— 

The night goes on with playing games and talking until one by one everyone files out of the Gilbert house. I make sure to thank Elena, Jenna, and Ric for everything as Alastair leads me outside to his car. Theo opted out of the ride home and decided to spend the night and play video games with Jeremy since they hadn’t gotten to all summer. 

After waving goodbye, Alastair pulls out of the driveway and starts driving me home.

“So what is it,” I ask him as I play with the bracelet on my wrist.

“What is what,” He asks but from his tone I know he’s messing with me.

“Don’t be a dick. You know what. My present from you. What is it?”

Alastair smirks to himself and just shrugs as he continues winding down the dark streets. It’s not long before we’re pulling up to my dark unlit house. Making me assume my mother’s not home. Thankfully. She hasn’t been around at all these past two days since I moved back. I didn’t even want to but with Theo moving back I didn’t want him asking too many questions on why I wasn’t living at home anymore.

Alastair gets out of the car walks over to my side opens my door and helps me out. We grab all the bags with my presents and then we walk to the front door.

“Thanks for tonight…I guess. It wasn’t that horrible.”

Alastair smirks at my comment and squeezes my upper arm, “Happy late birthday babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I open my front door and hear Alastair walk to his car. I haven’t even fully shut my door before I hear him peeling out of my driveway.

I sigh to myself as I turn on my hallway light and try to carry my bags to my room. I kick open my door and stop when I see the horde of shopping bags that are sitting on my bed. Various designer brands sit on my bed and I can’t fight the way my jaw completely drops as I rummage through just a fraction of some of them. There has to be at least 10,000 dollars worth of designer purses, shoes, and clothes here. 

If Alastair can afford this then why the actual fuck is he working a entry-level bartending job?!?!?

I’m about to pull out my phone and bitch my friend out when I hear my doorbell ring. 

“Alastair if that’s you, you have a lot of explaining to do,” I yell as I walk down the hall and fling open the front door and yet I’m met with nothing. 

I’m about to close my door because this reminds me of every horror movie ever but when I look down a small box catches my eye. I peek out my door careful not the pass the threshold but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. I cautiously lean down pick up the small black box and look at the tiny tag on the top. The only thing written on it is my name which pulls a frown on my lips. 

I quickly grab the box, shut the door, lock it, and slightly run to my room. As soon as I get to my room I eye the box in my hands momentarily before slowly opening it as if inside there was a bomb or some shit. I freeze when I see what’s inside though. A wolf. 

A small wolf pendant on a silver chain sits in the box. As creepy as this whole thing is I have to admit, the necklace is beautiful. The little wolf appears to be mid-howl and at closer inspection the eye of the wolf I think is some kind of gem. My fingers caress the wolf debating on what to do and after a moment I throw it onto my desk. 

I turn around to go organize the mess that is all these bags, but I feel an itch in my spine and I groan as I turn back to the necklace and roughly pick it up unclasp the chain, and put it on around my neck. As soon as I do a sense of familiarity and comfort almost seems to wash over me. I walk over to my bathroom mirror and look at the wolf in the mirror. And for a split second, I could’ve sworn its gemmed eye glowed.

[fight-for-what-you-love]

♪ Worldwide - Big Time Rush

I'm gonna be honest- these episodes kind of fell apart while I was making this. The more I re-wrote the story for it's second draft the less this version made sense and the less interested I was to work on it. I have not much else to say except sorry this part is kinda iffy and sorry it took so long. I promise you I'll make up for this in the next episode I PROMISE

Notes on both episodes under the cut!

Sweden Sour

* (I think it’d be really funny if Cody just doesn’t talk at all this episode. Not a word. Just nods and head shakes and depressed faces.)

* Cody’s incredibly depressed after Noah’s elimination. Sierra’s over the moon, though. She sees Cody depressed and gives him a tight side hug, petting his head. She tries consoling him with “I know you’re sad, but it’s ok! At least I’m still here~.” Cody starts sobbing, head in hands. Heather is sick of this already.

* The teams get their “ibuilda” pieces and the Amazons argue on what it’s supposed to be. Cody stares at the pieces for a few seconds before the light briefly re enters his eyes. He starts building. Courtney tells him to stop but Heather tells her he’s obviously got it, so let him work. They start helping him build… something.

* Once the Amazons are done, Heather, Sierra and Courtney take a step back to see what they’ve built. It’s a giant wooden Noah head. Their faces drop. Heather is filled with murderous rage.

* We built Noah’s face (We’re gonna take first place) Cause we built Noah’s faaaace

* Tyler’s jumper would be white.

* Cody doesn’t sing in this number. Chris notices and stares at him threateningly. He reluctantly hums the chorus and Chris takes what he can get.

* (Alejandro takes off his shirt to pull the boat like a freak. Duncan is unfazed and Tyler will deny it if you ask him if he blushed.)

* Sierra hits Noah’s Head hard enough it falls over on its side and suggests sawing off the side to ride in him like a boat. Heather and Courtney agree to this. Cody has no comment.

* Duncan and Alejandro don't bother bending over backwards to please Tyler. Duncan makes himself captain and no one argues.

* When the Amazons go to pick a captain, Courtney grabs the hat and declares herself captain without input. Heather tries to argue but Courtney argues back- Cody is in no condition, no one trusts Sierra and Heather took control the last challenge so this time she’s in charge. Heather reluctantly backs down.

* Amazons catch up to team Chris in the water. Alejandro sees them approach and makes note of Cody’s face, making fun of him for being so upset about “the Noah thing”. Cody furrows his eyebrows and points furiously at Chris’s boat. Courtney agrees that yes, they should shoot their boat.

* It doesn’t matter who wins the challenge since it’s a non elimination round, but I want to say the Amazons persevere. The massage helps Cody enough that he’s not stone faced next episode at least.

Aftermath III (Aftermath Aftermayhem)

* Gwen, Owen and Noah are introduced together. Gwen walks out first and Owen, hugging Noah to the point of lifting him off the ground, walks behind her.

* Geoff asks what all that’s about and Gwen responds that Owen refused to let him go until Noah “understood just how sorry he was”. Noah insists he forgives him, but Owen still won’t let him go.

* The Owen square is replaced by the Tyler square. The prompt is survive. (The hosts throw a bunch of debris at the contestant for thirty seconds and if they dodge everything they move on.)

* (For brevity’s sake, assume all of the contestants that participated in the board game in the original episode participated here [with the exception of Tyler, who is replaced with Owen]. They all get eliminated the same way as well, Noah getting got by aliens, Owen falling down the booby trap square and Beth making it to the final question.)

* When Beth gets stumped on the last question (What was Duncan's band called) Noah yells at her, frustrated: “Oh my- It’s Der Schnitzel Kickers, Beth!!” Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling.

* (He knows this because Cody had mentioned it in a conversation after the London challenge.)

* Noah initially complains about winning the game, but Owen reminds him that he gets to see Cody again and he shuts up immediately.

* “Noah wins!” “Wasn’t he disquali-” “NOAH WINS!! Let’s wrap it up. We’re done here.”

[xoxomilesteller]

you can be the boss

younger girl next door!reader x beau arlen | MDNI

cw: daddy kink, slight ooc beau (he’s still our gentleman dw), dry humping, oral ( f receiving), unprotected p in v (no balloon no goon), pet names (darlin’), nipple piercings, big age gap (20s & 40s), cursing, reader is literally throwing herself at beau, cheating.., drinking and smoking. also there are descriptions of a car so dont come at me if i don’t use the right terminology for under the hood pls and ty!

also by gnd i mean she’s just his neighbor, she resembles no like actually personality traits of the typical gnd persona!

title and fic are both inspired by “you can be the boss” by lana

def has grammar mistakes!

wc: 4k

since your hot new neighbor moved in, you’ve been coming up with ideas on how to get his attention. you’ve baked cookies for him, left your window open purposely when you were changing, sunbathed outside in your tiniest bikinis while he washed his truck.

it did work, but not in the way that you wanted.

beau came over every now and then when a fuse “went out” in your house. and he would knock on your door so you can try something he grilled up.

and the one time he knocked on your door shirtless, your roommate answered because you were at the gym.

it was the fourth of july and you and your friends made plans to go out by the lake. your roommate was visiting family so you were left alone. you put on your american flag triangle bikini with low rise shorts and a white tank top.

you head on outside to your car, giving beau a small wave, tilting your head and giving an innocent smile.

he looks so hot. backwards hat, aviators, white t shirt, jeans, tan. he looks like he just walked off the set of top gun maverick

he’s washing his truck, again, to see you. he knows it’s wrong. he just got back together with carla, got his family back together. and if it weren’t for that, you’re drastically younger than him. he’s creeping around to see you. he’s fallen for all of your traps.

he watches you hop into your car, it’s a ‘73 bronco, so it’s bound to give you some issues. you put the key in the ignition, turning it.

it won’t start.

so you try again.

you turn the key again, and still, nothing. you pop the hood of your car and walk over to see if there’s anything wrong.

beau, without hesitation, jogs over to you, “somethin’ wrong darlin’?”

God bless that southern drawl.

you didn’t plan your car to not turn on, but you sure as hell were going to milk this.

”yeah,” you shift your weight back onto your left leg, “betty won’t turn on”

beau chuckles, “betty?”

you nod, “grandpa named her that”

he whistles, “thought you bought this, sweet ride you got ‘ere”

”he passed it down to my dad but my dad gave it to me since i liked it so much,” you place your forearms on the edge of betty, bending over, “i revamped her though, figured it’d be best”

”got new parts for her?” he asks, checking the oil by wiping the dipstick on the hem of his white t shirt, “oil’s good,” he mumbles

”only some, new battery and starter since they started giving me issues”

he clicks his tongue, “ford’ll do that to ya darlin’,” he takes a step back, admiring the view of you bent over and your car through his sunglasses

you laugh and look at him over your shoulder, “more of a chevy guy aren’t you?”

he smiles, “you got that right darlin’, but i can appreciate a nice car. gimme the keys, will ya?”

he gets into your drivers seat, repeating your actions of turning the key. whenever he does turn it over, you notice some sparks coming out from one of the terminal of the battery.

beau walks back over to you, removing his glasses and hooking them on the collar of his shirt, “see somethin’?”

you lean back up, bracing yourself on your palms, “yeah, sparks came out here,” you point at the black terminal

he licks his lips, admiring how the white straps of your bikini sit at your hips, uncovered by the small article of denim on your lower half.

he leans in closer, furrowing his brows as he scans over your car battery, “how long ago d’you get this battery?”

”literally a week ago”

”get in the car and i’ll tell you when to start her”

you sit in your drivers seat, removing your tank top because it might ruin your tan and to get beau’s attention. after one attempt of betty not turning on, she does. your jaw drops and you slide out of your car, “what’d you do?”

his gaze falters down to your revealed skin but returns back to your eyes, “c’mere,” he nudges his head

you stand right in front of the battery, leaning over to watch his big and veiny hand twist the terminal to the right.

”might give you some problems again, but it’s all you gotta do,” you both lean back and he removes the stand holding up the hood, “after all, ford does stand for found on road dead”

you roll your eyes, ”haven’t heard that one before,” you cross your arms over your tits to push them up

beau lets the hood slam shut and he places a hand in his back pocket, taking out a box of marlboro cigarettes.

you raise your brows, “you’re a smoker?”

he shrugs, “sometimes.”

before he can search for a lighter, you hand him one that you had in your pocket, “least i can do for fixing my car”

he cups the cigarette and lights it, taking the time to stare at the perkiness of your tits while he can, “was hardly an issue,” he hands you back your lighter, “you a smoker too?”

“sometimes,” you smile

he nods and hands you the box, “only one left in there, but..,” he leans in closer, “your car givin’ you an issue again, call me”

you were a bit confused since you don’t have his number, but you decided not to question him and take the box of cigarettes.

when you’re about to leave from the lake, you pull out the box of cigarettes Beau gave you earlier, only to see the one singular cigarette with his number on it.

you bite your lip, smiling, and save his number in your phone.

you know its wrong. you’ve seen his wedding band. you’ve seen his instagram posts.

but he gave you his number.

you waited for about two minutes, staring at the contact.

you called it.

”hello?”

”hey beau”

you can hear the instant smile on his face, “hey,” there’s rustling on his end and then you faintly hear him say “work call,” before closing a door, “car troubles?”

”mmm,” you turn on your car, the engine turning over is loud enough that he can hear through the phone, “yeah. do you have any plans for today?”

his brows furrow and smile widens when he hears the engine followed by your question, ”still not dark yet. this year we just decided to do fireworks ‘n that’s it”

”well i think my car may be having a slight issue”

”like what?”

you giggle, “I’ll let you be the boss of that”

“i’ll tell you when i can swing by later today, ‘kay?”

”alright, bye”

beau hangs up and walks back out to the living room, where carla and emily are. emily wanted to go out on the dirt bikes today, but carla said no that it’d be too dangerous and beau knows better than to do something behind carla’s back.

which is ironic since he gave you his number. ironic because every night when carla takes a shower, he’s staring at your window, unable to rip his eyes away when you change right in front of it. ironic because when he takes a shower, he’s fisting his cock, thinking about you.

his heart drops when he sees the boredom written all over his daughter’s face.

”em why don’t you go to a friend’s house?” he suggests

”you out of all people should know how dangerous it is to drive on the fourth, beau,” carla says

”then i’ll take her,” he sighs, “she’s bored carla, let her have some fun,” he stands up, “send me the address and i’ll take you, you can sleepover if it’s that one girls house, ava is it? i like her dad, deputy cortez”

”amber, dad, her name is amber,” emily laughs

”same thing,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “pack and let’s go”

he knows he and carla are going to get into a huge fight over this. he usually tries to avoid the fights, do whatever she wants because of emily, but there are certain things he just cannot get by.

but, he doesn’t know if he’s letting emily sleepover at a friends house to purposely start a fight with carla so he can feel less bad about the urge in him to kiss you, fuck you.

beau waits in his car for emily, wanting to steer clear of carla for now, which is when he gets a text from you. an image actually.

his eyes widen.

your hair is wet, there’s water droplets on your skin, specifically on your breasts, and you have your shorts on but unbuttoned and folded over, giving a sneak peek at the star design on the fabric.

you’re holding up the peace sign with kissy lips, looking innocent, but the way you angled your phone says otherwise.

”for my contact photo if you do that nonsense,” is what you sent under that picture

”I don’t, but thanks. 👍🏼” is what he sends, which makes you laugh

around 4pm, you hear a knock on your door.

you know exactly who it is.

you apply some lip gloss and check yourself in the mirror, you haven’t changed out of your bikini and shorts, because you’ve been waiting for him, as pathetic as it sounds.

you open the door to see beau holding a bottle of beer he’s been nursing, “hey darlin’, what seems to be the problem?”

”nothing,” you shrug and smile, “come in”

he sits down on your couch, where you notice his left hand.

his band is gone.

”no plans for the fourth is a bit strange,” you mutter, “you being the sheriff and all I figured you’d be on a boat with american flags all over it”

he chuckles, running a hand over his beard, “carla didn’t wanna do anythin’”

your eyes widen ”not even a lake day?”

“nope,” he takes a sip of his beer

”that’s no fun,” you reach your hands out behind your neck, toying with your straps, acting like they’re loosening up, “sorry my straps are like falling, do you-” you scoot closer to him, “could you tie them for me, please?”

beau nods, moving his fingers in a come hither motion. you turn around, so your back is facing him. he moves your hair over to your shoulder and replaces your hands with his.

he keeps his eyes on the back of your neck, suddenly feeling jealous that the flimsy piece of fabric is closer to your skin than he is. he ties the knot intricately, so that your top won’t fall out of no where, but with the right tug, it’s gone. then he lets go of the straps when he’s done.

you lean forward, grabbing the glass bottle of beer he brought in, making the back of your shorts dip lower and he stares, wanting to pull them down and taste you.

you lean back, wrapping your lips around the rim, keeping eye contact with him. you hate the taste of beer, but you have a feeling with enough provoking he’ll give you just the thing you need to wash it down with.

his eyes stay on your lips, watching how they stay around the rim, now feeling jealous of a damn beer bottle.

so he takes it out of your hands, takes a sip, sets it down on your coffee table, “why’d you call me over darlin’?”

”i told you,” you feign innocence, “car troubles”

he scoots in closer to you, thinking with the bulge growing in his jeans, “so if i do this you wouldn’t have a problem with it?”

he places his lips on your neck, sucking and swirling his tongue to leave a mark.

you tilt your head back, “no,” you answer his question

”and if i do this,” he slides a calloused hand down your stomach, fingers tangling in the straps if your bikini bottoms to untie them, but they’re still being held up by your shorts, “still no problem darlin’?”

“none,” you sigh

he leans over you, laying you flat on your couch and sliding his hand up and down your stomach while his mouth attacks your neck.

you remove his baseball hat so your fingers tangle up in his silky hair, pushing his head closer and moving your hips helplessly against nothing, searching for friction.

you were surprised it was that easy to get him to fold.

he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t even try harder to resist you.

carla is such a control freak. beau completely forgot about that when he decided to get back together with her. and to be fair, she showed signs of improvement.

but he was quickly proven wrong when she demanded so many things out of him. beau is not only a caretaker, but a people pleaser, a gentleman. so of course whatever she wants, she gets, he loved her.

so he missed the way women reacted to him. he missed having control, he missed having sex. he can tell carla just got bored of him, because the first time they had sex right as they got back together, she fucking enjoyed it.

now?

she just shows no reaction, no desire. nothing.

so the way you’re moving your hips, the soft breathless sounds leaving your plump lips, your blown pupils, it all gives him the desire he’s been craving.

you wrap your legs around his hips, the rough fabric of the denim shielding you two from each other providing enough satisfaction for now.

”you wanna stop? jus’ tell me,” he looks up at you from the valley of your breasts, teeth playing with the small string there. his eyes are hungry, but sincere. his beard scratches your soft skin, definitely causing irritation for later.

”don’t stop,” is all you say.

and it’s all it takes.

beau tugs on your bikini so it comes undone with the simple movement. his eyes light up at the metal bars piercing through your nipples.

”darlin’,” he licks his lips, “now, these,” he lifts his head up to get a better view, “are just what i’ve been needin’,” he dips head back down and wraps his lips around the sensitive bud.

the piercings give you extra sensitivity, so you arch your back into his mouth, nails digging into his scalp, earning a groan from him. he rolls your other nipple with his thumb and index finger, occasionally running his thumb over it. he’s gentle enough to not tug on the piercings, but rough enough to make more sweet sounds come out of you.

he gives your nipple one final nibble and a flick of his tongue to soothe it before hovering over you, “tell me what you want darlin’.”

his voice is deep and laced with desire, there’s a fire in his eyes that you do not want to put out.

”whatever you want, you’re the boss”

you unintentionally told him exactly what he wanted to hear.

he catches your lower lip in between his teeth, tugging on it and watching it bounce back into place, “you’re perfect” he mutters

beau gives you a teasing kiss, not letting his lips linger for no longer than a second. it makes you pout and he it awakes something in him.

it’s been way too long since he felt desired and wanted. too long since he felt that he was in control. he’d be like carla if he denied you any longer.

so when he kisses you, it’s all teeth and tongue. his hands squeeze your breasts, his hips rut into yours, making you moan into the kiss with each thrust.

his lips and tongue taste like malt liquor, a bit sweeter than usual beer. you start moving your hips to meet his thrusts. he puts his forehead on yours, his mouth no longer being rough to look at your body moving.

he fucking loved it.

he moves his way down your body, nibbling, sucking, kissing as he takes one hand to the back of his shirt to pull it off, revealing his tanned back.

he moves his way down to where your shorts are folded over, sliding his left arm up your body, splaying it over your chest.

and it is impossible for you to rip your eyes away from him. the way his back muscles move with every movement he does, his messy hair from the hat and your hands, the way he’s looking at you like you solved every problem for him.

his right hand pulls down your shorts and bottoms and he wastes no time on throwing one of your legs to the side to open you up to him to lap you up.

you moan and grip the arm that is holding you down as he laps at you like a man starved. he groans and rolls his hips into your sofa at the sounds you make.

his eyes are on your face, watching it scrunch up in pleasure, watching every small detail. your lips fall into a small pout and your brows are slightly raised and creased. he can tell you’re holding back, trying to not mark him up so he doesn’t get caught cheating.

so beau lifts up his head, hiking your leg up higher, “scratch me all you want darlin’,”

then he spits onto your pussy and dives in harder this time. he sucks and flicks his warm and experienced tongue over your clit repeatedly. if it weren’t for the hold he has on you, you’d be fucking yourself on his face.

you dig your nails into his forearm, leaving red marks in their wake. you throw your head back on the soft cushion of the couch and just let him devour you.

his tongue laps around your entrance, nose bumping your clit, shaking his head to delve in deeper.

”beau i’m-“ you moan, “close”

he moans when he feels your walls tighten up around his tongue, which was all it took to get you writhing under him.

he laps up all of your juices, finishing by placing a soft kiss on your hip. he sits up against the couch, picking your sensitive body and placing it on his lap.

you whimper at the denim scratching at the raw marks between your thighs from his beard.

”you taste incredible darlin’,” he murmurs against you lips, allowing you to run your tongue over the lingering taste of you and liquor.

he lifts his hips up and you throw your head onto his shoulder. he grabs a condom he had in his back pocket

”you planned this,” you pant

”shut up and put this condom on me darlin’,” his voice is soft, moving the condom wrapper in your mouth.

you close your teeth on a corner and he tugs on it, then he places it in your palm.

you lean back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them slightly down as his girthy and veiny cock springs out.

his hands are gripping onto your thighs, waiting in anticipation, “don’t tease me darlin’, if you can’t take jus’ tell me”

you’re zoned out on his cock, looking at how it’s twitching and the redness at the tip. there’s precum beading all over the red tip, so you run your thumb over it, making it twitch again.

”darlin’,” he exhales, “put it on and start bouncin’ on my cock”

you ignore him, bringing your thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the saltiness of your thumb and him, which in response, he throws his head back.

you remove your thumb and you spit in the palm of your left hand, to slowly jerk him, and he sighs, “you’re big” you whisper

he lifts his head back up, looking at you through hooded eyes, ”you gonna take it?”

you roll the condom gently on his length ”can i call you daddy when i do?”

he chuckles, “abso-fuckin’-lutely”

you line him up to your entrance, teasing you guys both, then he grabs his base and slips his tip in, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders, “told you to stop teasin’ me”

he lets you sink down on him, stretching you out to the brim, “daddy” you whine

he places his hand on the back of your head, “i know darlin’, i know, take your time,” he says through gritted teeth

your walls flutter around his warm and hard cock, adjusting to him while you both pant at the relief.

as bad as it is to think, it’s been a long time since beau has been inside someone as tight as you, as perky breasts as you, as energetic as you, as young as you.

and he knew what trouble he was going to get himself into later, so might as well top it off by lifting you up.

”wha- wait,” you say panicked

he removes his condom and throws it off to the side, “need to feel all of you darlin’,” is all he says when he slides back in

he pulls your hips back down on him, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you

”whenever you’re ready darlin’,” he mumbles

you nod, bracing yourself on his shoulders and you move up and down on him, digging crescent moons on his freckled skin. he grips your waist, guiding you up and down him, watching your face and flicking his eyes down at your tits.

you start moving quicker, which is when he leans forward to catch a nipple in his mouth, kneading the other breast in his big palm as he looks up at you. he flicks his tongue over the bud and plays with the metal bar, moving it side to side as much as he can.

”you’re doin’ s’good f’daddy darlin’,” he speaks around your nipple, the vibration sending electricity down your core

your living room his filled with the sounds coming out of your mouth and his moans and praises, pornographic sounds of your pussy taking his thick cock. the trimmed hair at the base of his length ignites fire on your throbbing and swollen lips.

beau throws his head back, jaw going slack but keeping his hands on your breasts massaging them with every bounce. he starts thrusting his hips up into yours, hitting that gummy spot with his fat tip

”don’t stop daddy” you whine out

”i won’t darlin’,” he watches your body bounce on him, eyeing at where you both are connected. the irritation from his facial and body hair evident on your pussy, how you stretch out to take him, your nails digging into his skin, the fact that you’re calling him daddy, you look so lost in him.

it’s what he’s been searching for. someone that makes him not just feel wanted, but needed.

and you do need him, you just don’t know why. can’t bother to figure it out either when he’s splitting you in half.

you like him so much that you do not want this to stop.

the knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter and tighter when you feel his hands all up on you, massaging and rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.

your walls start clenching around him and you press your forehead onto his shoulder, “i’m close”

”daddy’s gotchu darlin’, go ‘head, take what you need,” he places a kiss on the side of your face, still driving his hips up into yours and rubbing small tight circles on your clit, “you feel s’good darlin’”

your mouth hangs open on his skin, teeth grazing him with every rough thrust of his hips.

without warning, you cum around him, body falling limp onto his. he keeps rubbing your clit and he places his other hand on your back, while he leans forward to go deeper, which makes you mewl.

”few more seconds darlin’,” he grunts out

he supports your neck so your head doesn’t dangle fully back and with one, deep thrust, he cums inside of you, moaning your name.

your chests fall up and down rapidly, trying to catch your breaths and he leans back on your couch, panting.

he doesn’t let go of you, not yet, he doesn’t want the feeling of being desired to leave just yet.

”carla’s gonna be mad at you,” you mumble

he chuckles, “didn’t care few minutes ago,” he kisses your shoulder, “why would i care now?”

AN: hi hope you enjoy i just had a strong urge to call him daddy idk why

lace divider by: @toastray

orange line divider by @elleisdesigning

[penkura]

Christmas Gift

Summary: You and Zoro exchange your Christmas gifts for each other.

Note: I had to write Zoro of course, and this ended up being a little more self indulgent than I originally planned lol. But I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Christmas with Zoro has always been your favorite time of year. Of course your birthdays are fun, but the holiday season makes things feel different when you two exchange gifts. He always acts like it’s a pain but the gifts Zoro has given you are always appreciated and more thoughtful than you expect, especially from someone who says it’s annoying to go shopping.

Your favorite thing each year is to see how flustered you can make your boyfriend. Even though you’ve been together for several years, Zoro never expects anything much from you, yet you always outdo yourself and cause him to feel like his gifts aren’t as good.

They always are to you, but Zoro still feels like you do better with the whole gift giving thing.

It's no different this year, when you two meet up once again, though it’s the last year you’ll be doing this as a dating couple since you’ll be getting married next year, as long as everything works out.

The earrings Zoro gives you this year match the three he wears, it’s the first time he’s giving you something like this (ignoring your engagement ring), but you love them all the same. He almost forced you to open your gift first, it was that important to him this year, for the two of you to match like that. You were so excited to see them that you hugged Zoro briefly before running off to the bathroom to put them in with a grin, making him roll his eyes with a smirk before he follows you.

“Figured you’d want a set since you got that third piercing.”

“Of course I did! That’s part of the whole reason I wanted them!”

Once you’ve gotten the earrings on and checked them out, you turn around and hug Zoro again, which he returns.

“You’re the best~ I love you~”

“Yeah, yeah,” he might roll his eyes again, but there’s a real smile there, “Its just some earrings, nothing that special.”

“But they’re special to me since we match now!” you pout while Zoro laughs, before you remember, “Oh!! You need to open your gift, Zoro!”

He tries to stop you when you grab his hand and drag him back to the living room, but doesn’t fight you on it. Zoro let’s you take him back and make him sit on the couch before you drop the gift bag in his lap.

“Now your turn!”

Zoro really does hate the whole gift giving thing, but the excited nervousness you have every time is cute. You’re always hopeful yet anxious that he’ll like the gift you’ve picked out for him, this year is no exception. You keep watching while he pulls the tissue paper out and eventually the gift, giving you a slightly confused look before you start to explain.

“So, you never wear a hat or gloves when it’s cold—”

“I don’t need them.”

“—but,” you let out a sigh but still smile, “I thought maybe a scarf wouldn’t be a problem, so I made you one.”

Really he’s surprised you haven’t made him anything like this until now, though he should’ve expected it by now, especially with how badly cold it’s gotten.

It’s a very simple scarf, he’s not sure about if it’s crochet or knitting since he’s not good at telling the difference, but you found what seems to be the perfect mossy green yarn and included black in it. Nothing fancy or intricate, you were probably worried the whole time you made if he’d even wear it anyway.

You’re still nervous obviously, starting to bite your lip because you think Zoro doesn’t like it, until he finally puts it on, causing you to grin once again when he looks at you.

“Well?”

“Hmm,” there’s no problem with the colors, you made sure of that, but you do adjust the scarf to where it’s wrapped around his neck once, “Now it’s perfect!”

Zoro throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, kissing your head and making you giggle at him.

“Thank you, I do like it.”

“Good! …will you wear it to my parents’ house tomorrow??”

“Seriously?”

“Please???”

You might have to promise him several things to get him to wear the scarf the next day, but Zoro does agree to it eventually. Giving gifts and having to deal with your parents talking to him all day is still a pain, he’s only willing to deal with that part of the holidays because it’s you.

[blond3ang3l]

Afab! Reader

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Cowboy! Butcher who in no way shape or form thought he’d be able to get you back to his ranch with him. You were so skeptical since you hated the outside life. All the gross bugs and everything touching you was just a huge turn off for you and it was no way you’d go out willingly in a place that was surrounding you in it. But somehow Butcher managed to get you back to his place and got you in his bed. His room was opposite to yours, all dark with his hunting shit scattered all around rom him throwing it off the bed so he could basically pounce on you.

His hands pushed up the shirt you wore and placed sloppy kisses from the middle of your chest till he got down your waist band. A sharp breath leaving you feeling his cold lips repeatedly against your skin. Just the reaction he wanted.

He peeled down your shorts just enough to reveal your hips to him. Hands squeezing your thigh while he took a mental picture of how you looked at that moment for him, for your first time with. His right hand reeled up to your hip once more before he spoke. “See this space right here?” His deep voice filled your ears making you nod. “You’re gonna get my name right ‘ere baby. Fill this spot out just in case anyone ever thinks they’ll get their fun in, they’ll know i was already here, and you’ll always come back to me.”

His hip were slamming into you from behind while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your hands intertwined with his as he tried to distract you from the slight burn you felt from being stretched out. The cowboy hat he wore now on top of your head making him smirk. It was like his own little claim on you. Your naive self didn’t know what you were getting into when dealing it’s the man. He was so possessive, wanting you all to himself. You were his prize that he worked his ass off the past few months for with courting you.

“Been holdin’ out on me love. Feel so damn good around me. Gonna have to put a ring on that finger. Like that idea huh?” You tried to nod to answer but he wanted to hear it from your pretty little mouth. His hand wrapped around your throat pulling you up to his chest. “Let me hear you bunny. No reason to be shy, only us two here.” It was wrong for him to tease you but the man couldn’t help himself, now that he had you he was gonna make sure you remembered that you would be with him forever. “Yes! Love that idea daddy. Do whatever it is you want.”

The headboard repeatedly banged against the wall so much you were sure that it would leave a dent or even worse break. His eyes fell on to your ass and the way it rippled whenever it met his pelvis. A idea popped into his head that he just couldn’t help but try. You were all his to own so he could as he pleased.

He let your head fall back into his pillows cooing to you to “Just relax and let daddy take care of you okay?" A small "yeah" That sounded more like a plea falling from your lips only feeding into him more. His hands moved to your ass, spreading it before letting a glob of spit fall onto your puckered hole. The sudden feeling made you jump but you didn't even have time to process before he pushed his thumb inside. You went to whine but he used his other hand to cover your mouth with a chuckle.

"I know doll, feels weird huh? S' alright, just gotta be patient and it's gonna feel real good okay?" He moved the hand off your mouth to slide down to your waist all the way to your clit, pinching the bud and making your gasp. His eyes never left your ass, watching ass his thumb moved in and out to his delight. He even slowed down his thrust just to match the pace.

"Fucking me so good daddy." Your words broke him out of his trance and made him chuckle. He leaned over pressing a kiss on to your shoulder "I know baby. Doin so damn good f' me." He looked at your dazed expression and fuck it was doing something to him. Eyes all glassy, small pout on your face, everything about it drove him crazy. "You gonna cum huh? S' that why your pouting up at me like a brat."

You instantly nodded your head and he couldn't hold back his smirk. Hand rubbing your throbbing bud he could feel you tighten around him. Moans become more high pitched and a bit shaky. "That's it girl, give it to me. Show me what no one else gets to see besides me." Your whole body twitched as your made a mess all over his dick. His own legs twitched as he thrusted into you s few more times before cumming deep inside you.

The room filled with the sound of both of your pants while slowly catching your breaths. His eyes fell on you and softened seeing just how gorgeous you looked. He knew would have to start looking for rings asap because he was not joking when he brought it up earlier.

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This is based off me watching yellow Stone and seeing butcher every time I look at rip and it drives me absolutely feral.

Also will probably have a part two

[arcadia-of-pluto]

In High Cotton || Rafayel (m)

Paring(s); LADS Rafayel x reader

Word count; 3,626

Themes; swearing, smut, plushie turning human (??), I write the word plushie a lot (I'm sorry), porn with a smidgen of plot, alternative universe

Warnings; Cunnilingus, fingering, slight choking, smidge of hair pulling, some degrading (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), some boob play, (do not expect a masterpiece of a smut— I didn't realize how rusty I was at writing them until I actually started 😞)

Notes; woah, 700ish notes on my most recent drabble! That's insane tbh. It almost feels like I should only write drabbles, and it wasn't even a smutty drabble either 🤔 I thought people were usually into smut?

Either way, I'm glad yall are liking it while I readjust myself to writing smut once again! I used to write smut SO much when I was younger and then I just stopped– but when I do write it again, it might have too much detail and I do apologize beforehand for that...speaking of, it's happening now btw! I'm going to try to write good smut for this. I got this idea for a short, one-shot hentai-ish Manga (it's called…”my plushie turned into a human” or something like that)

Also, lowkey, cotton doesn't even feel like a real word anymore 😭

|| Main Masterlist ||

In High Cotton;

//this Southern idiom means “to be doing well or living a comfortable life”; in comparison, to be ‘in low cotton’ would mean you're having a bad day//

“What are you, a child? Stop carrying around that stupid plushie! It feels like you care more about that damn thing than our relationship.”

Your head whips around to stare at your partner through a glare.

Oh really now?

You care more about a stuffed piece of fabric in comparison to your almost five years of dating this person?? Yeah, right.

Your partner was just trying to deflect this situation away from the fact that you caught them cheating.

They were grasping at straws to throw the blame on you and your cherished plush was the only thing they could throw at you…pitiful.

You've had this little plushie since you were little and, honestly, you didn't even remember what show it was from– if it was on one. Your childhood friend gave it to you shortly before he moved away and you've since forgotten what he even looked like.

The only memory of him being the purple haired, humanoid plushie currently clasped between your hands as you fought the urge to throw it at your partner.

And, tired of your silence, your partner left your apartment shortly after.

Now, you were left alone with your plushie.

You slowly swipe your thumb back and forth over its pinkish-blue eyes as you ponder just why you cherished it so much. Why you cherished Raf so much.

Yeah, Raf. That's apparently the name of the plushie. That's what your mom claims you called it throughout the years, so you had no reason to change it.

But yeah. You were unsure why it never left your side.

You always kept it in your purse, in your shirt pocket– it almost felt like an emotional support doll, at this point.

Anyway, you stand up from the floor and go lock your door so your partner couldn't barge back inside the apartment, even if they wanted to. Then, you decide to go to bed. You were off work for the next few days, so you could finally get some well deserved rest.

You quickly get changed into your pajamas and curl up in the bed with Raf in your arms. Your hand resting against the red beret on its head, thumb gently brushing over the small black bead on top of the hat as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up feeling…warm? Too warm, in fact.

You know you fell asleep with the air conditioner on, so there's absolutely no reason for the room to feel as warm as it does.

You grumble under your breath, wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, and keep your eyes shut as you try to kick out from under the covers. You soon realize you can't do this, because you feel an odd weight holding you down.

If your partner snuck back in, you swear to god—

But when you open your eyes, you're met with an unfamiliar sight.

It's…a stranger. In bed with you.

Their hair, however, was oddly familiar.

Purple hair…

Nah, no way. There's no way your plushie suddenly turned into a human, but that would definitely make you feel less anxious than assuming a stranger was in your home.

You take a deep breath and glance around for your plushie. If you can find it, then this man isn't your favourite stuffed animal and if you can't– well, it could've fallen into the floor. You won't sink into the delusion that this man was Raf, until that was your final option.

You couldn't find it with just your eyes, so you attempted to wiggle out of the man's grasp. However, this only causes him to hold you tighter, his arms squeezing around your waist as he pulls you further into his bare chest.

…bare chest?

You blink a few times. Your head is close enough to touch the man's chin.

Fuck it.

You put your hands on his chest and desperately try to pull away from him, full on struggling since you've decided to not care if you wake him up or not. He came into your house, why should you be accommodating toward him??

“Hmm?”

You hear his tired voice as he finally removes one arm from your waist to rub his eyes, and the moment he opens then, you have no choice but to accept that he was your plushie.

Seriously, like what normal human has pinkish-blue eyes?? No one. Unless he's wearing contacts, that is literally your comfort doll.

You know it sounds crazy, but how else would this random guy know what your plush looks like?? Especially enough to copy its looks perfectly.

“Oh. Good morning, Y/n.” He yawns, stretching his arms up and that's when you snap.

You quickly sit up and move away from him, holding a hand out in front of you. “What're you doing in my house? You're not…Raf, are you?”

“You recognize me!?” He almost blinds you with his innocently charming smile.

“You're…joking, right? I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to believe that?” You say, half asleep but clearly not buying this act. You run a hand through your hair, brows furrowed and you could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh…you don't believe me..” he frowns, sitting up against the pillows. “Hmm…what can I do to make you believe me?”

“Uh…say something that only someone who knows me would know?” You throw your hands up in the air, exasperatedly.

Come on, how the heck were you supposed to know?? Though, you'd probably believe him if he said something personal.

“Raf” brings his hand up to rest under his chin as he contemplates what to say. After a few moments of silence, you stand up from the bed.

“Alright, if you're not going to say anything, then–”

“When you were seven, you threw up and ran into your mom's room crying because you thought you were dying…uh, oh also, when you were ten, you were trying to ride a bike and busted your knee open when you fell– you have a scar from it. At eleven, you accidentally punched a kid in the face and got into your first fight– that you lost, by the way. And at sixteen, you were going to lose your virginity, but your ex said you had to get Raf off the bed and you said, and I quote, ‘the doll stays’.”

“Raf” looks at you after he finishes talking with an almost proud looking smile on his face and you tilt your head to the side.

You…

…what?

You had no other choice, but to believe him now.

The scar on your knee would've been the easiest to guess, but the others? But you don't want to seem too gullible…

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Tell me more before I make my decision.”

Surely he wouldn't say anything embarrassing, right?

“You've faked every orgasm with your current partner. You can only cum if—”

“Okay, okay!” You quickly place your hand over his mouth. Your face turns scarlet as you squeeze your eyes shut. “That's enough. I'll believe you for now.”

You feel something wet against your palm and jerk your hand back. “What the hell– did you just lick my hand??” You drag your hand against your pants to wipe it off, before shaking your head. “Look, go get dressed. I'm sure my ex has some clothes you can wear.”

You put an emphasis on ex, since you decided you weren't going to stay with that cheater the moment they left your apartment last night.

Then, you leave the room.

Honestly….Raf was a pretty decent roommate. Sure, he didn’t work, but you'd come back to a home-cooked meal after work every day. He'd do the laundry, the dishes, and he even painted on the side.

You weren't sure if he'd ever turn back into a plush, but you preferred him this way. With him as a human, you could talk about your day with someone, eat with someone…there's only one problem.

Personal space and…personal time.

You haven't been able to get off in almost a month– that's how long Raf has been human by now– and it has started to get to you. You usually aren't a very sexual person, but sometimes you just need to rub one out every now and again…and you can't with him constantly snuggled in the bed next to you.

Tonight was another night where you wouldn't be able to do what you wanted.

You let out a small sigh as you get settled in bed. The TV played a random show in the background as it illuminated the otherwise dark room. Raf laid next to you, one arm curled under the pillow so he could still watch the TV. He was shirtless too, so that made your conundrum even better.

“What's wrong?” He asks, not looking away from the TV and you quickly shake your head.

“It's nothing. Nothing at all.”

Raf shifts over to his side to look at your face, raising one of his eyebrows ever so slightly. “You haven't…Well, I mean, you usually do it once a week and it's been a month now–”

“Raf–” you sigh, covering his head with a pillow. “Shut up.”

He pulls the pillow down, so only his eyes are visible. “Do you still not see me as a man?”

“I don't want to talk about this right now.” You try to pull the pillow back over his face and he catches you by the wrist.

“I could make you feel way better than your ex did…” he trails off as he guides your hand to the front of his pajama pants.

You could visibly see a bump from over the covers and you choke on your spit as you felt something warm under your palm.

Something big.

“Raf…” you trail off, but you can't find the will to tell him to let it go.

His words made you curious…you wanted to know if sex could actually feel good or if he was just talking a big game.

What could he really know about sex, anyways?

He's only been human for a month now, so there's no way he could actually be good at it, right?

As you're lost in thoughts, your hand subconsciously squeezes his election and Raf tilts his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back a groan.

“Earth to Y/n.” He hums, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Yes or no, cutie? I want explicit consent.”

You were battling with your thoughts, but you ultimately nodded your head.

“Use your words now. Your pretty lips aren't just there for show, are they?” The man taps his finger against your bottom lip and you let out an impatient sigh, “Yes, now can you please–”

Your words were silenced by Raf's lips crashing down against yours.

One of his hands ghosts down your body, fingers resting under the waistband of your pajama shorts, just a few inches from where you really wanted his touch. His other hand slides up your shirt, cupping a breast.

You feel the bed dip underneath you as Raf swings a leg over your body, fully pinning you to the bed as he continues his assault against your lips.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, but you playfully refuse to let him in. In retaliation, Raf’s fingers pinch around your nipple and harshly tug at it. A gasp escapes you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue past your open lips.

The only time your lips part is when Raf leans back to tug his shirt off and takes off yours as well.

Now shirtless in front of the man, you can't help but feel a little self conscious.

Though Raf quickly dissuades your self doubt by dipping his head down to latch onto your nipple. His hand finally moved further into your pants. His index finger resting on your clit and you arch your hips up, trying to force him to move.

Your thigh stings in pain as you feel Raf's palm collide with your skin.

“Patience.” He murmurs against your chest.

His fingers draw lazy circles against your clit and, while it is pleasurable, you want more.

You dip your hand past his waistband and grab onto his dick. Your hand could barely wrap fully around it and you could only imagine how it would feel. It felt like it would hurt…a little. But what's a little pain?

Your hand lazily strokes Raf's dick, thumb dragging over his tip to collect a few drops of precum and that's when the man finally snaps.

His fingers move lower. His middle finger slowly glides inside of you and he gives you a few thrusts with his singular finger, before adding a second one. With both fingers sheathed inside, he makes a ‘come-hither’ motion with every thrust of his digits.

“R-Raf– wa—ah— wait..” Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder while your other hand pauses its movements. You try to hide your face in your shoulder, but Raf seizes your chin with a hand.

“Don't look away now, princess. I wanna see your face. Wanna see just how good I'm making you feel.” He tsks and pulls away for a moment.

He strips you of your bottoms, tossing them to the side as his big hands grip your thighs. His palm slaps the newly exposed skin before he taps your hands.

“Hold your legs up for me and don't drop them.”

You want to question his words, but don't. Instead, you wrap your arms under your knees and pull them as close to your chest as you can. It was, honestly, a really embarrassing position, but you couldn't help but get even more wet.

Your juices were tacky against your thighs and even dripping down onto the sheets below you.

“Raf…” you whine, wondering what's taking him so long since you expected him to fuck you already. But instead of his cock, you feel something else.

You feel something warm and wet against your clit, and a strangled noise comes up from your throat as Raf flicks his tongue against your pussy. His fingers going back to your entrance to slip inside as he wraps his lips around your clit.

Your head tilts back as moans spill from your lips. Raf's skilled fingers working at your center while he tongue draws figure-eights on your clit.

“R-Raf, inside. ‘Wanna cum with you inside, please?” You finally manage to say, your nails digging into your legs.

Your heart stutters in your chest as Raf makes eye contact as he eats you out. Only pausing to respond to you, his fingers still moving.

“You gotta be more specific, princess. I am inside you right now.” He teases.

As you open your mouth to answer, he curls his fingers and they just barely brush your g-spot.

“I want your di– ah, Raf, right there!” Your hips jerk with every thrust of his fingers and you can feel yourself growing closer to your first orgasm, but Raf has other plans.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for your climax, suddenly you feel empty.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Raf is licking his fingers clean.

A lazy smirk tugs at the man's lips and his hand disappears into his pants, freeing his dick from its confines.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his angry, red tip. The glistening precum. The way his hand drug against the length of it.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!”” Raf snaps his fingers with a pout. “Geez, you really know how to make a man feel like a pack of meat.” He taps the tip of his dick against your clit and your hips jump.

“Ah, what's the magic word, cutie?” His hand pushes down on your hips, effectively pinning them to the bed as he smears his precum across your clit.

“I…” You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs before you finally let them go and hold your arms out. “Please fuck me.”

Raf's arms wrap around you as he finally pushes his tip inside and his voice of reason finally snaps. He was originally going to take it slow, to give you time to adjust, but the feeling of your tight, warm walls around his cock makes him unable to think straight.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. Though there is a bit of skill to his thrusts, there's also a smidgen of inexperience mixed within it.

“You're so tight, cutie. Do you like my cock that much?” He hums, his lips dragging against the skin of your neck. He firmly presses his lips down, parting them slightly to suck a painful bruise on your neck.

His hips continue to snap forward. His cock languidly pumps in and out of your pussy. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin, the sound of your bodies coming together, fills the otherwise silent room.

His thumb dips down to make quick circles against your lip as his cock brushes against your g-spot and he claims your lips once more.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging up his skin to leave deep red marks in their wake. Your moans are swallowed by Raf's lips. His tongue collides with yours and you briefly fight for dominance. You ultimately lose, though you didn't put up much of a fight.

The man pulls out and you're about to complain, but suddenly you're flipped onto your knees. Raf presses his palm into the small of your back and your face slams into your pillows.

His cock re-enters as he thrusts, his palm cracks down across your ass. You can't hide the moan that slips from your parted lips and Raf raises a brow.

“Oohh, someone's a bit of a pain slut?”

With this new knowledge, Raf pulls you up by your hair. Your back against his chest and his other hand glides over your body. His two fingers make quick circular motions against your clit and he releases your hair, instead wrapping his hand around your throat.

“R–Raf, please. ‘M so close.” Another noise slips from your lips as his cock just barely kisses your g-spot and you can feel his breath against your ear. “You gonna cum for me?” He presses a small kiss on your shoulder, his hand squeezing around your neck as he quickens his thrusts.

“Uh-huh…” you nod your head, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to hold back your moans. You could feel your juices soaking your thighs, could hear the evidence of your arousal with every thrust.

With one last precise thrust that brushes your g-spot, you cum.

You tilt your head back with a choked cry, your hips jerking as your walls spasm around his cock.

“Princess…” Raf groans, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he surges forward. Your body falls forward and your hands go out to steady yourself as he continues to harshly thrust. “Inside or out?”

You take a moment to think before you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes. “Out, please.”

Raf flips you over onto your back once more and after a few more pumps, he pulls out. His hand quickly strokes his cock before his head tilts back and he moans. His tip shoots out strings of cum, painting your stomach and chest with white ropes.

“Fuck…” he takes a few breathes before you meet each other's eyes.

Then, you both laugh giddily and he dips his head down to gently kiss you.

“I'll go grab a washcloth to clean you up.” He smiles against your lips before he gets off the bed to head into the bathroom.

You sit up and stretch out your sore limbs while you look around for your phone to check the time. “Huh…I could've sworn it was on the bed..” You click your tongue and sigh, sliding off the bed to check if it fell into the floor.

Your hand pats around under your bed and you let out a small squeak of surprise as your hand brushes against something soft. You jerk your hand back, but notice your phone was on the floor. You press a hand against your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. Then, you turn on your phone's flashlight to look under your bed.

“Wait…” you squint, noticing something that looks oddly familiar and once you fish it out, your eyes widen.

It…was Raf.

Slightly dusty since it had been under your bed for a few months, but…this was most certainly Raf, your beloved plushie.

Your head slowly turns in the direction of your bathroom with wide eyes. If your plush Raf was in your hands then…who was in your bathroom?

The door swings open and Raf– no, the stranger walks out from your bathroom with a washcloth in hand.

“I think I'm going to need to do the laundry soon. This is the last clean on– oh, you found it.” The purple-haired man leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I– who…” you look from your cherished plushie to him. “You're not even…”

Then, he chuckles.

“You ever noticed the little black ball on his beret?” He taps a finger against his temple. “I gave you that when we were little…been watching you ever since.” He has a smile on his lips as if this was a normal thing to admit.

“You're—”

“Highly intelligent? Devilishly handsome?”

“—insane.”

“No, silly girl. My name is Rafayel. Don't worry, I'll fuck you a few more times so you can remember it.”

I tried my best and that's all that matters tbh 😭 I think it seems so bad because it's in second person and I'm used to writing smut in first. But I'm hoping I'll get better at it with practice!

Either way, I'm sure this isn't the worst smut you've read so I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, sorry there isn't a drabble this week! I might write one soon since I've got two days off 🤔 I'm not sure yet tbh

[judesmoonbeauty]

Chaotic Night CE: Jude Jazza

☾ CW: Dub-con/Non-con Behavior: I am marking this as both DC & NC, just in case.☾ MDNI: For suggestive themes. This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy is not guaranteed. Cybird owns everything. Thank you so much for your support, and I hope that you enjoy the story! ☾.

(That person’s back, could it be…)

Kate: Jude?

When he turned around, I saw a wizard’s hat and unfamiliar glasses hiding his eyes —

Kate: This is…..

Jude: Don’t look at me.

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Everyone falls asleep when they make eye contact with me ‘cause ‘o that extract that quack made.

Jude: Can’t get no work done, dammit.

His spitting voice hit my ears as I quickly averted my eyes.

(That’s right, he said he had work after the party, so he left early.)

Undoubtedly, the cursed ability that puts anyone to sleep when their forehead’s touched, has been amplified.

(Even so…..)

Kate: Where’d the hat come from.

Jude: Hah?

(The pressure’s more overwhelming than usual….)

Jude: …..Ellis put it on me in the lounge, dunno, but it’s a costume.

Kate: It looks….kind of like a wizard.

My thoughtless words seemed to have struck a chord with him —

Jude: Does the princess see me as a wizard.

(Oh, no……)

Jude: Then, I’ll behave like the villainous 13th Wizard.[1]

With veins popping out on his forehead, he grabbed me by arm and started walking.[2]

Kate: What, where are we going?!

Jude: ……

Kate: Jude.

He didn’t respond as he dragged me away —

Roughly throwing open the door he tossed me on the bed.

Kate: Oof.

The sound of the door locking echoed out, and the moment I tried to look up.

Kate: Mmph.

The back of my head was grabbed, and I was forced into a pillow.

Kate: What are you doing?

Jude: What was that, can’t understand what yer sayin’.

Kate: I don’t know, hmm.

Suddenly, something is pressed between my legs and I let out a sweet moan.

When I moved my legs around, it seemed to be his knee —.

Jude: If I’m angry ‘n there happens to be someone to torment, then I got no choice but to.

The merciless voice from above stimulated me again between my legs.

Kate: Nnn, please stop.

I try to escape the pleasure by twisting myself from the knee that’s grinding against me.

Jude: Yer lookin’ pleased ‘though sayin’ stop, ya must feel good.

Kate: Your wrong!

The close whispers in my ear, and heat touching my back, made me realize that he had climbed on top of me.

Kate: For now, take your hand off my head.

The moment I touched his hand that pressed me against the pillow, there was strong pressure between my legs.

Jude: What’re ya so excited ‘bout?

Kate: [Gasp] !

Just as I was about to hit my peak from the sweet stimulation, I desperately tensed my legs, but….

Jude: Yer squeezin’ my knees, but yer lookin’ like it feels so good ya stand it.

Jude : With yer face pressed into a pillow, unable to move,

Jude: ‘n bein’ tortured…..yer so perverted.

Kate: I’m not.

Jude: What’s not.

When I heard a sigh his knee moved away, and I felt relief for a moment, but

Kate: Ahh.

His hand that lifted my skirt pressed against my sensitive spot over my underwear, making me come.

Jude: It’s wet here though.

Kate: —!

Jude: Even though I only touched ya a bit, ya came.

Jude: Seriously, yer so masochistic it’s laughable.

(This is so embarrassing, why did this happen…..)

I was so ashamed that tears started to form in my eyes,

And his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing.

Jude: Yer face is bright red, are ya so humiliated that yer gonna start wailin’?

Kate: [sniffle] , please let me go now! [3]

I thrashed my hands, repeatedly hitting his hand that held my head,

Jude: Ha, weak. Are ya serious?

The instant he sneered with laughter, his hand slid up to my chin, turning my upper body around.

My vision is filled with him —

Jude: Can’t be helped, so let’s end it now. Look at me.

The moment our gazes almost met I quickly covered my eyes.

Jude: Hah?

Kate: I don’t want to.

Kate: If I sleep here, then I won’t be able to fight back while being tormented.

Kate: So I will NOT go to sleep!

I bit my lip knowing that I couldn’t just go to sleep after being humiliated.

Jude: Ya really are an idiot.

He sneered in a low, sadistic whisper.

Jude: There ain’t no way ya could fight back.

Jude: I’ll torture ya till I’m satisfied.

(If I had slept then, this wouldn’t have happened.)

As I lay in bed on the verge of tears, too embarrassed to recall the memory,

His hand grabbed my cheek as he ripped off the sheet.

Kate: What are you doing.

Jude: ….All cured.

Kate: What? Oh, you’re right.

When our eyes meet I didn’t fall asleep, and he looks relieved.

Jude: The anger’s also calmed down, ya were useful.

Kate: Really?

I got so happy when he said that, then I came back to my senses…..

Jude: Looks like ya enjoyed bein’ tormented.

Kate: N-no, I didn’t!

Jude: Ha.

He stood up with a mocking laugh, his profile looking different than usual.

Jude: I’ll torment ya again when I have time,

Jude: When that time comes, be ready.

I watched him leave the room, then collapsed on the bed.

(Next time, I won’t let Jude do what he wants.)

I’m filled with embarrassment thinking about the next time, but

(The truth is,)

—There’s no way I could say that I hated it.

Some subjects were tough to identify in this translation. [1] Although we know this is translated as fairy in EN, due to his costume and context, I chose to keep wizard.

[2] ずかずか “zukazuka” was used here, and has several meanings such as: forward, directly, straight, rudely, without hesitation/permission. However, I opted to just use “started walking,” because I am not confident which of these are meant to be conveyed.

[3] There is no onomatopoeic word mentioned, but since she’s fighting back tears, I added sniffles.

[Event Master List] Dividers: @.saradika-graphics/@.natimiles

Tags: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

Please comment below if you wish to be tagged in translations!

So, what did you all think??? It's not as gory or smutty as his Villain's Night story event from last year, but it was still good I think! I am telling you we are going to see some freaky bedroom shit in his route and events after this.

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

[benedictscanvas]

hey love! im sorry your request box hasnt been what you were looking for but maybe this will work! can i request a ball with benedict bridgerton where feelings are only realized when one of them dances with someone else? i dont really mind if its reader or benedict but i just think it would be cute!! hope you’re doing well <3 <3

hello my lovely. you're the sweetest, thank you so much for such a gorgeous request. I've got a pretty similar fic where Benedict realises his feelings, so I was super excited to do the other way around, I hope you enjoy <3 <3 | 1.5k words, fem!reader

There is a woman in Benedict’s arms and it isn’t you and you think you might throw your lemonade at her. Accidentally, of course.

You don’t know her, and if the reasonable side of your brain was in charge, you’d probably think she looks quite lovely. Her hair is adorned in elaborate braids and her smile is demure but still a little goofy - she isn’t shrouded in the fake humility that she finds so many ladies of the ton carry around with them. 

But still you find yourself fantasising about a large lemonade stain painting the front of her dress, the poor girl hurrying away in her shock and distress.

Away from Benedict. Who’s now laughing. At something the girl has said, no less. Why, you’d never seen him laugh at any lady of the ton who wasn’t either his sister or, once, Lady Danbury.

And yourself, of course, but you didn’t count.

At least, you didn’t think you counted. You didn’t think you wanted to count, content to while away the balls and the promenades by Benedict’s side, sometimes Eloise’s, whispering about so-and-so’s hat or whats-his-name’s hair. He’d never asked you to dance, although you’d never wanted him to before. Now that he was dancing with someone for the first time you could recall, however, you could feel that changing very swiftly.

”You know, looking vexed in the corner isn’t likely to win you many adoring suitors, Miss Y/L/N.”

Eloise always knows just when to get on your nerves and she’s grinning at you slyly when you turn to face her, finally breaking the spell that Benedict and his new dance partner had placed on you.

”Since when have you believed that was my endeavour, dear Eloise?”

”Since you’ve spent the entire night glaring at pretty young Miss Pennyforth. It’s making you look rather jealous, to the untrained eye.”

You turn away from her, fixing your eyes on her brother yet again. They’re not talking anymore, just staring at each other as he twirls her again and again. Maybe it was better when they spoke after all, because now your stomach is twisting into something that does indeed feel a lot like jealousy.

”Yes, well, you know better than to think I’m jealous. Though I do seem to be in a foul mood.”

Eloise nods exaggeratedly, a pretend-sympathetic pout on her lips.

”Yes, you poor thing. And it obviously has nothing to do with the brother of mine that you can’t take your eyes off.”

You pointedly look at her again but she just dissolves into giggles at the look on your face.

”If you have a point, Eloise, I suggest you make it.”

”Oh, no point at all. Only that the one ball where Benedict decides not to stand with you and ruin his prospects all night, you seem to be very dour indeed. With no correlation, of course.”

You glower at her as best you can. You have the irritable feeling crawling out of your stomach through your throat that you might be about to cry, and you refuse to do so here, or to allow Eloise to think it’s her fault if you do.

”You run along and find Penelope or I shall tell your mother there’s a gentleman asking after you.”

She gaped at you, quite genuinely.

”You wouldn’t,” she murmured, but then promptly hurried away when you fixed her with a look that told her you most certainly would. It was a lie, because you could never bring yourself to do that to your friend, but it was a ruse that allowed to slip away from the ballroom.

You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Benedict to see him kissing the back of Miss Penny-something’s hand and your eyes began to sting.

- - -

There was a little bench hidden away to the left of the grand entrance, just dark enough to not be spotted by those near the carriages. You managed to shed a few tears in private, silent silly things, and you wiped them away angrily.

It was only Benedict. Quiet, mischievous, generous Benedict. He was creative and caring and could come up with the most brilliant insults you’d ever heard. Obviously, he also had a beautiful face, but you’d never given it much thought. All the Bridgertons were beautiful, it felt like a requirement.

”Did Lord Tennesby try to talk to you again?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes with your head bowed. Of course he’d find you. If anyone was likely to be looking for a quiet spot for a moment’s reprieve, it was him.

You wiped at your face in vain before looking up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. 

“I’d be halfway back home if that was the case. What are you doing out here?”

Why aren’t you with Pennyfuzzy? was the unspoken second question that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask, knowing how spiteful it would come out. You wished you had realised you might want more from Benedict in the comfort of your own home, where you could take a week to process those feelings and prepare for how to deal with them.

Instead, you’d just have to see what happened in this conversation and go from there. Sounded promising.

”I was going to ask you the same thing. Have you…been crying?”

”I think it’s the flowers,” you point over at the hyacinths in the nearby flowerbed, “They often get the best of me this time of year.”

”Daphne’s ball last year was filled with hyacinths and you didn’t so much as sniffle.”

You frowned at him.

“I probably sniffled.”

“You didn’t. I would have noticed. I would have offered you a handkerchief like the dashing young gentleman I am.”

It was enough to pull up your frown at the corners, which in turn propelled him to take a seat beside you on the bench. You busied yourself with a crease in your dress when you talked to him.

“Maybe you’re not as dashing as you think.”

“I’m incredibly dashing,” he argued, pointing his chin upwards in that silly, mighty way you always giggled at, “I swept Miss Pennyforth off her feet just moments ago.”

Like an ice cold bucket of water poured right over you. You almost shivered.

“Ah, Miss Pennyforth. Has someone finally captured your wayward attention, Mister Bridgerton?”

You looked up at him and tried not to sniffle or snuffle or anything else that might give you away. He was just looking puzzled.

“What? No, I meant I quite literally swept her off her feet. I got the steps wrong, according to Eloise, who helped me up once she had a hold of her laughter.”

You blinked at him.

“You fell?”

“Into quite the heap. Miss Pennyforth was a good sport about it all but she did end up with a rather unfortunate lemonade stain all down the front of her dress. I think she was a little embarrassed.”

He had the decency to look a little embarrassed himself. There you had been, ready to hurl the contents of your cup at the girl and Benedict had solved your predicament for you. A twinge of guilt tugged at you.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you said honestly, face overtaken by a wry smirk since Benedict had not sat down singing her praises. Still you had to be sure, “She was looking a very good dancer before I left, I was afraid she might steal away my conversation partner.”

It ended up sounding far more transparent in your intentions than you’d hoped. But you held his eye contact defiantly when he grinned.

“I knew you missed me,” he said, smug, “I took one look at your face and I could see it plain as day. Really, you should have hidden it better.”

“I don’t enjoy these events and you know it, Benedict.”

Back to his first name and by the light in his eyes, he’d noticed the switch. He stood up and held out his arm for you.

“I know. I’m very grateful for it. Now come along, I’ve done my duty to my mother dancing with that girl and now I would like to do my duty to myself.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, not moving a muscle.

“I would like to make fun of the Featheringtons with my most cherished friend. Would you do me the honour?”

Something skipped inside your chest. Light and airy again, no longer weighed down and chained to something churning your stomach. His most cherished friend. Despite the evening’s revelations, that sounded heavenly.

“Is Eloise inside waiting for you then?” you can’t help but tease and he promptly puts his arm back by his side with a huff.

“You are intolerable. I’m going without you.”

“No - wait!” you laughed, following after him gleefully as he turned away from you and started walking. You managed to catch him on the stairs, threading your hand into the crook of his elbow with ease as you did.

The smile he sent you would take at least the next week to contemplate but you had time. You could be a very brilliant 'most cherished friend' for now.

(and you were far more cherished than you knew, of course, but he wasn't quite ready to tell you yet)

---

if you'd like to request something of your own, please see this post for characters I write for and two super brief guidelines. thank you for reading, sunflower <3

[clownyclaushoe]

art the clown/clowny claus x reader 🔞

a very belated christmas oneshot 😅😭🙈 because for some reason i really struggled with this one 😭😭 it takes place during the bar scene aka one of the best scenes in cinema with a much different, but debatably better ending than santa getting turned into a snowman 😈🤭 inspired by a dream i had of clowny claus eating my pussy while lying on the bar top 😫

it's a christmas miracle!

🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

you had stopped into a bar after your shift at work - it had only been six hours, yet it'd felt infinitely longer. it was the holiday season, so on top of being busier than usual, no matter how kind, patient, or good you were at your job, the holidays had only made everyone act more impatient, rude, entitled, and frankly, dumber, especially the customers you served at the small diner down the street. it seemed they missed the peace on earth and goodwill toward men memo. you'd often come in after your mid-shifts, becoming acquaintances of sorts, that soon lead to flirtation (and a little more), with the owner, eddie.

you sat at the far side of the bar and nursed your beer, a few stools away from the two girls throwing themselves at the guy dressed as santa, not taking the hint when he'd politely declined, mentioning he had a wife. though there was no judgement and he far from your type, you stared on as they continued, amused by the entertainment for the night. you and eddie exchanged incredulous glances, and had to bite back laughter at the things they said in an final attempt to sway the santa ("can i join the mile high club on your sleigh?" "i wanna do drugs on your stomach!") before stumbling towards the exit.

as they were heading out, you noticed a... clown? a christmas clown? was excitedly coming in, scrambling to make it down the steps and knocking the drunk girls over in his haste to make it into the bar and over to santa.

you watched the interaction between the three men and the odd silent clown, and this time, it's because you were interested in the mysterious man. there was something about him, a charisma and an energy about him that instantly drew you in. and despite his gaunt face and pointed nose - which you figured were prosthetics under the white, pasty makeup - and his slender body, it struck you how fucking hot you immediately found him.

some of his over-the-top expressions made him appear inhuman, like a curious otherworldly creature, and you had to admit, you found that attractive too. you'd hoped he had noticed you too, but didn't want to get your hopes up. he seemed a little too caught up in fanboying over santa to pay you any attention, unfortunately.

granted, he did look cute in the santa hat. "hey, santa, looks like you got some competition," said the man called smokey, one of the bar's employees, who usually stopped in on his off nights for a few. "it's clowny claus!"

the clown waved his arms, posing with his hands in a "tada" gesture, mouth open wide with a grin.

"no. hey, you're a natural," santa said. the clown smiled, and waved his arm at the flattery. "you look good. but don't get it dirty. and remember to give it back. you don't want to get on santa's naughty list."

the clown gave a surprised expression, shrugging and raising his arms, as if feigning innocence and suggesting any of his wrongdoing was because he just didn't know any better. you smirked to yourself, thinking of the ways the clown might want to get on your personal naughty list.

"hey, why don't you tell santa what you want for christmas, little boy?" smokey joked.

you thought, if this man wants his dick sucked in this bar, i'd be on my knees in an instant. though you knew you should feel guilty that you'd think of blowing another man in front of eddie, you also weren't committed to each other. yes, eddie was hot, and yes, a few times your flirtation with him crossed the line into making out, and it felt good to have his strong hands on your hips or squeezing your clothed tits or ass, to tease your hand over the crotch of his jeans, feeling him hardening for you.

but you made it clear to him from the start, you were just having fun and weren't interested in anything serious. you hoped, yet doubted, he would remember that.

"better hygiene," suggested eddie, who was working as bartender tonight, as he often did.

"all right, come on," said santa, trying to brush over the dig at the clown. "let's have a drink, uh, for everybody. okay. come on. even the young lady over there."

you saw the closed mouth crooked smile eddie gave you, a twinkle in his eye that betrayed his feelings for you. usually you would've smiled back, loving and preening at the attention from the older man, maybe saying some suggestive comment to provoke him. but not tonight, your desires lie elsewhere this time.

you looked at the other three patrons, surprised to find the clown staring at you, making eye contact for the first time - sending a shiver right through you, down to your core. he grinned and batted his eyes, then quickly looked away, as if he were bashfully flirting with you. your heart fluttered at the idea.

you approached the men, standing near the clown still sitting on santa's lap, the chair holding his mysterious big trash bag making it so you couldn't be as close to him as you'd like to be.

"got id?" eddie asked, and you couldn't help thinking his voice was tinged a little with bitterness and indignation, a subtle jealousy in his stance. he had to have seen that you couldn't take your eyes off the clown. but then again maybe he was just doing his job.

"come on. he's obviously old enough," santa said, as the clown gave a surprised O expression, and turned to dig through his trash bag.

"you think i'm gonna lose my license for this guy?"

"don't bust the clown's balls."

"this is normal to you?"

"sorry about this, clowny." the clown pulls out a wallet, tossing it on the bar top. "there, see? he's got it."

eddie looks at the clown with a brief glance of self-satisfaction as he grabs the wallet, opening it.

"'maurice jackson'?" you can't hold back a laugh at the disbelieving way eddie says the obviously phony name. "maurice" tills his head, grinning and batting his eyes rapidly, looking absolutely adorable.

you think, how could anyone refuse that face?

"eddie, you're killing me. can we just celebrate? come on."

"fuck it," eddie said, pushing the shots toward each of you, and you slip between the two chairs, leaning against the bar top to grab your glass of tequila, which eddie knew was your shot of choice. "it's christmas."

"all right, let's have a drink. to my new friend, huh? to maurice jackson."

"cheers!" you each clink glasses before downing your shots. a moment passes before the clown spat his shot in santa's face. smokey bellowed with laughter and you join in a little, unable to stop yourself.

"what the fuck is the matter with you?"

"what's your problem, pal. guy buys you a drink and you spit it back in his fucking face!"

"hey, man, that's wrong," smokey said, despite his initial reaction.

"see, you were just rude and you shouldn't have been rude. let's go clowny. get up."

you move aside, leaning your arms on the back of the chair holding the clown's trash bag, but he doesn't move. "no, i'm not kidd--" santa trailed off as the clown turned his head, mischievous grin spread across his face, followed by a trickling sound that took a few moments to register as the clown pissing on santa's lap, his urine splashing into a puddle on the tile floor.

"oh shit."

"what the-- what the fuck are you doing!"

the santa pushes back the chair as he stands up, shoving the clown away from him.

"he peed on him!"

"fucking told you," eddie said, as he climbed up and over the bar.

the clown silently laughed and mocked him as the santa lunging at him. "are you fucking kidding me? i'm gonna kill you, you sick fuck!" he grabbed the clown, but eddie pulled him off before he could get a punch in. "i'll fucking kill him!"

the clown taunted him, squaring up and bouncing on his toes, all the while, that wide mocking grin plastered on his face, looking simultaneously funny and hot.

you hurried to stand between them, placing one hand on the santa's arm and the other on the clown's chest, in an attempt to defuse the situation. the clown likely wouldn't be able to fuck you if he was put in the hospital, though the idea of sneaking into his hospital room to ride him as he lie in bed, maybe having him wake to the warm tightness of your pussy wrapped around his cock was a hot and distracting one, your clit starting to throb at the thought.

"he's sorry. he doesn't do well around the holidays. the stress..." you noticed eddie standing behind the santa, watching you with his brows furrowed questioningly, perhaps the pieces finally coming together.

as rude and gross as the clown's actions were, you appreciated his irreverence, and found it strangely admirable. he just didn't give a fuck.

sometimes you'd wished you could give less of a fuck. you felt jaded and drained by the world. it seemed no matter how hard you tried to be kind and considerate, people always made it so damn difficult; they didn't realize or care about the pain they caused.

"you know this freak? you seem like a nice lady, you should keep better company," the santa quipped. the clown frowned, shaking his head and swatting his arm in dismissal.

"come on, you motherfucker," eddie said, stepping around you to grab the clown and shove him to stumble toward the bench at the other side of the bar. "smokey, get his bag!"

when he sat up, legs spread wide, you swear you could see a distinct bulge as if he'd gotten a semi at being roughed up a little, at the escalating conflict. he shook his head in defiance and fixed his little hat.

eddie had walked over to the other two struggling to pick up the clown's bag, "what the fuck is in this?"

the clown silently laughed and pointed before eddie threw it at him, the clown moving just in time not to get hit, gesturing another taunt.

"you motherfucker! i'll kill you. goddamn it!"

"want me to call the cops?"

"i don't want you to call the cops, i want you to call a fucking dry cleaner."

the clown gestured that santa smells. he sure was relentless at pushing buttons, knowing just how to get under people's skin.

"dry cleaner? smokey, get a fucking mop!"

"i told you, don't let him the fuck in here."

"you said he's fucking normal! sit down, sit down." santa turned and walked to the bar. "fuckin' you told me. have a fucking drink."

the clown quickly rifled through his bag as eddie turned, realizing the unwelcome customer hadn't left yet.

"can't take a fuckin' hint, can you?" eddie said as he approached him. "i'm not going to tell you again."

the clown stood up, quickly extending his arm and brandishing a gun, firing a shot that clips the side of eddie's neck, and he grabs the wound as he drops to the floor. you think it's a shame he never went down on you before dying. whenever you did make a suggestive comment to rile him up, he'd have a habit of staring at you and licking the corner of his mouth, making you imagine his tongue plunging into your pussy. you'd stare right back at him while bringing your beer bottle to your lips, no doubt making him imagine your mouth wrapped around his cock instead.

santa still standing at the bar, startles at the gunfire, sending shot glasses clinking and shattering on the floor. a stunned smokey watches his boss and friend lying on the floor, gargling and choking on his own blood.

the clown points the gun at santa before shifting his arm to fire at smokey next, a shot to the head sending a spray of blood hitting the sign hanging behind him.

all the while you'd watched the intense scowl on the clown's face, as hot as it was menacing, and it was driving you crazy.

"oh no, smokey!" the clown slowly approaches the santa, gun still raised. "oh no no no, please sir. let me apologize for whatever's happened here tonight." he grabs the santa hat, offering it to the clown. "here, take it, it's yours. you looked good in it."

the clown takes it with his free hand, and there's a sudden slow shift to his expression, a big grin spreading across his face, his eyes widening as his brows raised. the santa laughed nervously as the clown continued to stare at him, laughter becoming louder and more desperate, unease gripping him to the point of near delirium.

in that moment you felt sorry for him. he seemed like a nice guy, just as eddie and smokey were; decent, working class men that had the misfortune of crossing paths with this crazed, homicidal clown. in any other situation, at any other time, and with any other assailant, you would've been scared, you would've cared more about seeing three innocent people brutally gunned down, you would've hidden for cover and called 911 immediately.

you don't know what had possessed you not to do any of it. somehow you knew he wouldn't kill you.

the clown tapped the butt of the gun against the suit, signaling he take it off too. santa scrambled to remove the suit, stripping down to his undershirt and boxers. "there, now, could you let me leave? please. i won't tell any one about that happened. i swear," he stammered as he continued to plead for his life, struggling to come up with anything to elicit mercy. "i have a name, charles johnson. i have a name, and a wife and two kids and i..." charles trailed off, knowing it was hopeless. his gaze dropped and the clown shot him, he fell to the ground.

the clown looked down at him and shrugged, putting the gun on the bar. you walked to him.

"can i get you drink," you blink pointedly, "something other than a shot." he shakes his head, swatting his hand. "what's your name, really?"

he gathered blood pooling on the floor and smeared it to the bar top.

"art? well, art, I think you'd look really hot in the santa suit."

art raised his finger like he's been struck with an idea. he grabs the suit, putting it on over his clown costume, adding the santa hat and white wig to complete the look.

you notice the blood on the white trim of the coat, pointing it out. "i guess that means you're on santa's naughty list." art frowns, shaking his head. "i was right. you do look fucking hot."

he smirks, leaning down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you so he can lift you up and onto the bar. he tears at your jeans as he pulls them off, taking you by surprise, much stronger than he appears. you gasp, leaning back onto the bar. you like a man who doesn't waste time.

a shiver passes through you at the cold air hitting your bare pussy. art stares at it and licks his lips, his brows bouncing appraisingly as his fingers graze over your labia. before you can beg him, art leaned in, latching his mouth to your pussy, sucking and licking alternatively.

"oh fuck," you struggle to get out already, fingers raking through the white wig. art rotated his head, dragging his tongue all around your pussy, then dipping down to wetly plunge inside. your head rolled forward, face screwing up as you watched him, his gaze intense as he fucked you with his tongue. "oh, art." you shouted out roughly, rutting your hips to meet the thrusts of his tongue. "gonna make me come so hard on your handsome clown face."

art shifted and though you missed the feel of his tongue inside you, he made up for it by constantly flicking it over your labia and up to your clit, eliciting high pitched moans as your hand held his head tighter, head falling back to give a guttural moan when he sucked at your clit.

anyone could walk in or glimpse through the window you getting fucked while three dead bodies lie on the floor, but you couldn't care less. all thought about anyone or anything else but art escaped you, worries pushed aside as his tongue and lips and the glorious suction of his mouth sucking hard at your clit pushed you closer to the edge. you give a harsh gasp as you come, that familiar feeling of hot shimmering liquid gold pleasure coursing through you, but burning brighter and more intensely than ever before. your body heaves and thrashes uncontrollably, unable to bear the immense weight of pleasure. "oh my fuck--fucking, ahhh."

art hasn't relented, tongue determined to lick up every drop of your cum, almost to the point of overstimulation - a second orgasm quick to follow, but you let him, figuring it's a fair trade for him gifting you the best orgasm of your life.

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