#i half assed this but it was rattling around in my brain and i had 2 do sumn w it

[sawvhs]

saw (2004) dir. james wan // who are you? - ajj

[bunny-jpeg]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: older men are no fun! - john price :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

price loved his petal in something that shows a little skin. he liked when his alarmingly young girlfriend strut around in cute tennis skirts and baby tees. with sticky lip gloss and cry-proof mascara. you were price's pretty little thing. the outfits were for him, from the cute socks with the bows on them to the thin bra that does little to hide your hard nipples. even the tacky lip gloss was for you to get around the base of his cock. so imagine his surprise when his precious baby girl was leaving he house in an outfit that was for his eyes only.

"petal, what's that?" "nothin', daddy." you were about to grab your purse when price stopped you by invading your space. you yelped when your taller, bulkier lover had you pressed against the wall near the front door. his arm braced over your head as he leaned in a little. "don't look like nothin' to me, baby." his other hand groped your breast and he looked you in the eyes, "looks a hell of a lot more than nothin'." you swallowed and explained that you were going out with your friends, you told price about this weeks ago. but you never told price about the outfit you were putting on.

no, no, a girl like you shouldn't be dressing like a whore. when you said you didn't look like a whore. price had you pinned to the wall with his hands up your dress skirt. "not a whore, huh? any bloke could come up and just take ya like you're nothin'. you'd be puttin' on a show for them if you sit wrong. but i bet my petal loves the attention. she likes when greedy men take her like she's worth a pence and a half." soon your panties were down to your ankles and price got you facing the wall. you whined when you could feel your boyfriend's heavy erection against your bare ass. "you're not fun, daddy!" too bad, petal. boys lose their dolls too easily, men know how to keep their woman at home. not flaunting what belongs to their man." you whimpered and kept against the wall while price got his heavy cock out of his sweatpants. he wasted not time getting it reacquainted with your sweet cunt. he sank in with little resistance, just as he liked you.

price was brutal, you could hear the echos of your fucking through the plaster and dry wall. price kept his hand on your hip as he fucked you roughly, his other hand kept your face up against the wall. he fucked you with such heat that the framed photo on the wall nearby rattled with such intensity that you wondered if it was going to fall off the wall. if you were going to go out tonight, price wanted you to smell like cum. his cum. mark you all over, from those pretty lips to your prettier pussy. but, he had a feeling after he was done with you, you'd be a whimpering little puppy in desperate need for her daddy. price liked being your daddy, he loved when he could comb his fingers through your hair but also yank on them strands as he fucked you with the same energy he was fucking you against the wall with. your body was practically limp against the wall and price continued to use your sex for his pleasure. hard to think about being a whore when daddy's got you pinned against the wall with his cock kissing your cervix. he knew that he ruined you for other men, there was no way that any other could satisfy you. your taste was more refined, that even a bit of grey hair didn't scare you. didn't matter, price could be all grey and he'd still rearrange your insides with ease. you felt your hard nipples rub against the front of the dress you wanted to wear. there was no way you were going out in that tonight. you whimpered loudly and felt your heart beat faster with each stroke of his cock. "see, petal. this is how you should be lookin', dumb on my cock. panting like an animal with a need to be fucked. stupid little thing, that's why you like older men, huh? someone to think for ya?" his voice was smooth in your brain and it made you feel hazy. the pleasure made you stupid. when you eventually came, you almost hit the floor. but, as always, your loving older boyfriend came to the resuce and held you up against the wall as he battered your pussy some more. cheek pressed against the wall while price just fucked you. there was no tenderness, it was all possessiveness. your poor little cunt would be bruised come morning. he pulled another orgasm out of you before he shoved every inch inside of you and finished with a hot heat between the two of you.

"you'll be good now, baby girl?" "yes, daddy."

you barely have a moment to breathe before you're able to reach for your phone in your purse to let them know that something came up and you couldn't go to the bar tonight. and you didn't get far before price had you over the carpet on the stairs leading upstairs. poor thing, your dress was torn at the seams and now you got carpet burn all of your pretty tiddies! but, don't worry, daddy will suck them till they're all better.

(just don't wear a low cut shirt for a few months weeks)

[carnalcrows]

THREE'S A CROWD - THANOS

pairing: thanos x male reader

synopsis: Getting high in the bathroom during the games is definitely not a good way to pass time, but hey- you're too out of it to care.

content warnings: 18+, smoking weed, frotting, mentions of a threesome

word count: 0.6k

This was, without a doubt, a horrible idea.

And yet, here you were—half on Thanos’s lap in a cramped bathroom stall, eyes heavy-lidded and limbs feeling light as hell. The cheap-ass joint you’d both shared was still faintly burning in his fingers, the hazy scent of weed mixing with the smell of old tile and whatever cheap soap they stocked in this prison of a facility.

Thanos took one last drag, exhaling slow and lazy, before passing it back to you. His purple hair was a mess, his eyes low and dark, and he had the dumbest, cockiest smirk on his face.

"You’re staring," he murmured. His voice was lower than usual, rough around the edges.

"You’re ugly," you shot back automatically, taking a drag.

He snorted, eyes flicking to your lips as you exhaled the smoke in his face. His hands were already resting on your waist, but his grip tightened slightly, fingers digging into your shirt.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in, slow, deliberate, lips barely brushing his. "What? You nervous?"

Thanos clicked his tongue. "Shut up."

And then he kissed you, rough and uncoordinated, like he had something to prove.

You grinned into it, tugging at his hair just to hear the little grunt he let out. His hands twitched on your waist, and god, he was holding on so tight. The kiss turned sloppy real quick, all heat and hands and desperation like neither of you had the patience for anything else.

"You—" Thanos broke off with a sharp inhale when you shifted against him. "Fuck, you’re—"

Outside, the bathroom was silent.

Inside? Just the sound of heavy breathing, quiet gasps, and the occasional creak of the stall door when you moved too much.

Without a word, Thanos pushed you off his lap, your ass hitting the ground with a light thug.

“Oi! What the fuck–” Your words are immediately silenced when he shimmies his pants down while still sitting on the closed toilet. His cock springs out, hard and leaking pre.

Oh

You got up carefully, trying your hardest not to make a sound. It would not be good if a guard walked in on the two of you. 

You tugged your pants down, cock springing out– before settling back down on his lap, so that both your dicks were almost touching.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea–” He breaks off, eyes wide as you wrap one of your hands around both your cocks.

You teasingly dragged your hand up and down your lengths, your other hand soon joining in. Both your hands were pumping your cocks in a similar fashion, as Thanos’s grip on your waist tightened even more.

Your mouth practically latched onto his neck, sucking and biting at whatever skin you found exposed. His eyes scrunched shut, whatever state the weed gave him was slowly starting to disappear, replaced by the feeling of your hands on him, your mouth on him. He could feel you everywhere.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he came without warning, shuddering as his cock spurted on yours, giving you enough slick to get to your own release.

"You okay there?" you teased, dragging your lips down his jaw.

"Shut up," he gritted out, gripping your waist even tighter.

You barely had time to smirk before—

The stall door rattled.

You both froze.

Footsteps.

Silence.

Then—

The lock clicked.

The door cracked open, and a guard just stood there, red mask tilted slightly as he took in the absolute mess in front of him.

Your brain short-circuited.

Thanos, still half-dazed, just blinked up at him. "...Yo."

The guard looked left. Looked right.

Then?

He stepped inside and shut the stall behind him.

You stared. "Huh?"

Thanos just grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[sturnsdarling]

teenage dirtbags, part two

Skater!Matt goes to overachiever!readers dorm so she can help him with his essay

vibe check: bickering, matt fancying the fuck out of reader but being unaware, reader being a snob, kind of flirting? idk if you can call it that lol.

1.7k words

A/N: this is so FUN. in my head, Matt has always secretly thought reader was gorgeous, but any and all good natured feelings were swallowed by an avalanche of irritation and borderline hatred

intro, part one, part three

love and cigs, merc

You were sat on the floor of your dorm, clad in a big knit jumper, little shorts and fluffy socks, cross legged on the carpet with a pencil dangling from your mouth as you scanned the margins of some 19th century text about the French Revolution.

You were pulled from your focus by the sound of your door rattling, three short knocks sounding through your room over the low hum of your record playing in the back.

You looked to your watch, 7:03, Matt was actually on time.

You pushed yourself up off the floor and made your way over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with a less than welcoming look on your face. You were met with Matt, board in hand and headphones hung round his neck, a flat grin on his face that quickly dropped.

Matt couldn't help but scan your figure, he'd never seen you in anything other than your clean cut outfits, so seeing you in a baggy jumper that hung off your bare shoulder and shorts that just covered your ass was, interesting.

"come in" you said, pulling Matt from his accidental objectifying gaze and stepping to the side to let him in.

"thanks" Matt said as he walked past you, taking in the sight of your room, it actually did smell like vanilla and academic over achievement.

You had more books than he had ever seen in his entire life, the walls covered by rows of bookshelves all packed to the brim with classic literature.

"this is a lot of books" Matt said, gawking at your collection.

You nodded, lips tucked between your teeth as you raised your brows slightly.

"have you read all of these?" Matt asked, pointing at the shelves.

you scoffed with a smile, "no" you shook your head, "just over half, probably"

"that's still impressive" Matt shrugged, dropping his stuff on the floor.

"should we get started?" You said, wanting to cut the small talk and get this over with.

"yeah, sure" Matt said, following your movement and sitting on the floor opposite you, pulling a bunch of crumpled up notes from his bag.

You looked at them in disgust as he tried to flatten them out on the floor, shaking your head as you got up, scanning over your shelves to find anything you had on existentialism. You pulled a few books out and returned to the floor, opening them and scanning over the pages. Your movement grabbed Matts attention, him watching you intently as you began to rip through all the possible approaches he could take, listing off essay summaries as if you knew them like the back of your hand.

Matt wasn't listening, mostly because he had no idea what you were talking about, but also because your hair was falling in your face slightly as you leaned down to scan the books, the strands framing your face perfectly as you spoke with your plump, glossy lips. Matt noticed the small constellation of freckles on your nose, how your eyes darted around the room as you spoke, as if you were literally searching your brain for information, how your brows knit together every time you said 'obviously' and how...what the fuck is going on

"are you even listening?" you snapped, pulling matt from his haze.

"huh?" he said, meeting your glaring eyes, "yeah, yeah, I'm listening" Matt said, shaking the thoughts from his brain.

"because I don't have to do this for you, you know that right? I have much better things to be doing with my time and you're honestly the last person I want to spent my evenings helping" you began to complain, your tone cocky and fed up

"charming" Matt scoffed, "trust me, y/l/n, you're not exactly someone I want to be spending my evenings with either" Matt quipped back, matching your cadence.

"right, well, maybe if you listen to me, this can go a lot faster, and we can go back to pretending we don't know each other" you said with finality.

"fine" Matt shrugged, holding your eye contact

"fine" you repeated, having to get the final word

Matt chuckled, shaking his head with a slight eye roll. You squinted at him, scrunching your face up as his attitude.

"what?" you spat.

Matt couldn't help but grin, "you haven't changed at all" He met your gaze once more.

"what are you talking about?" you said, your voice thick with attitude.

"you always have to have the last word" Matt shifted where he sat, bringing his knee up as a rest for his arm.

"no, I don't" you replied with a scoff.

"yeah, you do" Matt grinned, nodding.

"no, I don't" you pushed.

Matt didn't respond, only raised his eyebrows and tightened his smile, looking at you in an accusatory manner, as if you responding the way you did only proved his point.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and returning your attentions to the book in your lap, "lets just get this over and done with"

The rest of the night went...fine. There was some bickering, mostly started by Matt not listening or simply being himself. You ended up getting his introduction done before you decided it was time to take a break, needing to decompress from all the arguing.

You and Matt sat in silence, you fidgeting with your pen as you scanned over what Matt had written and Matt wandering around your room like a lost puppy, in his search through all your things, his attention was caught by the crates of records that looked as if they were holding up your mattress.

There were hundreds of them, all in alphabetical order, stacked on top of each other in the makeshift bed frame you had made with the crates. Matt scanned the names, in awe of the fact that not only did you collect music, but it was good music. Maybe you did have something in common.

"are these all yours?" Matt said, unable to take his eyes off your collection.

You looked up from the page, looking over to Matt who was crouched on the floor, peppering soft touches with his long, slender fingers over the spines of the records.

"who else's would they be?" you said, raising a brow at him as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"this is an impressive collection, y/l/n" Matt said, ignoring your attitude.

"thanks" you cocked your eyes to the side, generally irritated by him regardless of what he said.

"I didn't know you fucked with music like this" Matt returned his attention to the stacks, "maybe you're not as lame as I thought you were" he looked back to you with a boyish grin

You screwed your face up at him, giving him the biggest condescending smile you could muster up. Matt cheesed at your face, looking back to the music and scanning some titles.

"oh shit, Fleetwood Mac, I fuckin' love them" Matt said, pulling out the Rumours album and turning it over to read the track list, "still not as good as their self titled album from 75" Matt shook his head, putting the record back in its spot.

"are you serious?" you scoffed, "Rumours is easily their best album"

"absolutely not" Matt shook his head, sitting back down opposite you.

you simply stared at him for a moment, trying to process your bafflement, "In what universe is self titled better than Rumours?" you put the page in your hand down, leaning your palm on the floor so your body was towards Matt, your movement causing your jumper to fall down your shoulder slightly lower.

"In this universe?" Matt chuckled, "self titled has Rhiannon and Monday morning" He shifted, one leg tucked beneath him with the other acting as a perch for his arm, knee in the air with his foot on the carpet.

"and Rumours has the chain?" You pressed, "and dreams"

"okay, and?" Matt shrugged with a grin, drawing out his first word.

"you can't be serious?" you shook your head, "Rumours is incredible, you can literally feel the tension between the band with every sentence they sing, the energy is on a different level"

"so the album is good because everyone was beefing? how does that correlate to good music" Matt pushed, only slightly relishing in how worked up you we're getting.

"because?" you scoffed, "it's real, and raw, and the live shows were insane"

"you don't think self titled was real and raw?" Matt raised his brows at you.

"no, idiot, I didn't say that" you rolled your eyes, "rumours is just different, it was like all the anger from everything that happened was spilling out over the sheet music, it was...beautiful" your eyes wandered the ceiling as you explained your reasoning to Matt.

He couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, watching you speak so passionately about something other than how much you despised him was awe inducing, especially something like music, which he would have never have pegged you to care about this much.

You continued to argue your point, but the feeling of Matts eyes on you made your cheeks warm, and you stopped your rambling to look at him.

"what?" you deadpanned, cocking your eyes to the side quickly.

Your change in tone snapped Matt back into reality, and he was quickly reminded of who he was gawking at.

He cleared his throat, "nothing" he dropped his gaze from you, searching the floor for something to pay attention to other than the strange feeling in his stomach.

You furrowed your brows at him, watching the top of his head as he clearly tried to avoid eye contact with you at all costs. what the fuck was that about? you decided not to look into it too much.

"lets carry on, yeah?" Matt said, opening the book in his lap and clearing his throat once more.

"alright" you said, ignoring the tension in the air and returning your attention to the paper in your lap.

You spent the rest of the evening in silence, only talking if you really needed to and staying a good five feet apart at all times. Matt left once you had finished the outline for the body of his essay, still not looking at you for any longer than a second and hurrying out your room moments after you said that you could pick where you had left off tomorrow.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[itsa-me-lily]

I am still tired, but brain is less mush after some lunch. (Can you guess what I had)

Here is other Simon & Thimble playlist

Here is more Military Program Spouse AU

It helps to assume here that unless stated otherwise Simon is wearing a medical mask around reader. She’s just like whatever floats your boat my dude

Content warning;

Mention of food, medical devices, scars, cellulite

“Simon whatever your middle name is Riley you better not be looking at my legs.”

Maybe his mum had a point, that women developed eyes in the back of their head. He wasn’t deliberately looking at your legs, but he wasn’t not not looking either. For some reason unbeknownst to him, you had decided that you had to make the biggest batch of soup known to man. Sure the seasons were changing, summer slowly letting go for fall, but it wasn’t as if a chilly wind was rattling at the windows threatening to steal whatever heat existed. It was still relatively balmy, warm enough to have the windows open and enjoy the breeze. Warm enough that having the stove going made the kitchen borderline stuffy, encouraging you to cook in just a loose tank top and shorts that hit mid thigh.

Simon wasn’t a prude, he wasn’t scandalized at seeing the curve of your thighs, or grossed out by the cellulite. Everyone had fucking skin and however you wanted to dress in the comfort of your home you were welcomed to it. But he had eyes and well he was curious. His own body was covered in scars and tattoos that told a myriad of stories. So he looked to see what yours had to say.

Picking at the chicken you had left on the counter he counted the spots that your insulin pods left behind like stars, noticed how you missed a small strip of hair when you were shaving, even the mole that you had on the back of one ankle; they all came together to make up parts of a story about his wife that he was just starting to get.

He was so lost in thought, mechanically putting piece after piece of poached bird into his mouth, barely paying attention to anything besides the action of seeming busy, that he didn’t notice when you turned around, the exasperation in your voice finally catching his attention.

“Seriously? What did I just say?”

Simon wasn’t someone who startled, didn’t jump or hunch his shoulders to his ears. He had spent far to much time sharpening himself as to cut anyone who tried to catch him unaware. He just wasn’t prepared for you to admonish him like that, hands on your hips and looking for him to answer your question.

“What? You said not to look at your legs…I wasn’t lookin’ at them”

Not a lie, but not quite the truth.

“Yeah instead you’re eating your way through them!”

He blinked at you slowly once and then twice, following your gaze down to the plate of chicken leg quarters he was indeed making his way through. At least one looked like it had been pounced on by scavengers.

“You said no lookin’, nothing about no tasting.”

That was most certainly a twitch to your eye. That probably should have been concerning, but honestly Simon was secure enough in his height and size that if you tried to suffocate him he could throw you off. He was a good head taller than you, honestly how much damage could you do? When you pointed your wooden spoon threateningly at his chest it didn’t do much besides remind him of a little old grandma who would wield the same utensil as a weapon.

“You sir, are an asshole. Now go run to a shop and get me one of the pre cooked chickens.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve eaten half my damn chicken and like hell is my sancocho going to suffer for it.”

“Your what now?”

Yes Simon Riley knew he was being as ass. Yes he also thought that there was a realm of possibility that your upset face and clear murderous intentions were slightly endearing. But only slightly.

“My god damn soup. I swear to god if you fuck this up for me I will find a way to make you suffer the consequences.”

“Alright alright, no need to have a bird over some-heh, bird.”

He didn’t stay to see the double middle fingers you aimed for his back, he didn’t need to. He was pretty sure you were also cursing his name and maker. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind him that your colorful vocabulary was loudly shared with the world. It made him chuckle as he picked up his pace.

Heaven help anyone who got between a woman and her soup.

Edit

I am very passionate about my soup

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Moody Bucky -Oneshot

@imagine-all-the-fandoms informed me that I missed posting this one! I'm so sorry to those of you who were excited to read it, I got bogged down with requests and it got lost in the shuffle. Here you go!

Word count: 2684

“Yeah, yeah sounds good.  See you Saturday,” Y/N replied before hanging up the phone.  

“What’s that smile for?” Natasha asked, walking into Y/N’s room.

“Jesus!  Nat, quit being a spy for one day, please?” Y/N gasped, her hand resting over her rapidly beating heart.  “My heart can’t handle it.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.  “Who was that?”

“His name is Lars,” Y/N smiled.  “He’s one of the Asgardian recruits that Thor brought in from New Asgard.  We kinda ran into each other a week ago after training.”

“Lars,” Natasha cocked an eyebrow at her.  “He’s cute.  But then again, all Asgardians are beautiful.”

“True,” Y/N laughed.  

“What about Bucky?” Natasha asked with narrowed eyes.

Y/N sighed at that.  She had had a major crush on Bucky for a while now.  He was the one she really wanted, but after a year and a half of unrequited feelings she was tired.  She felt like she had dropped some flirtatious hints to him while they worked together, and at times he would pick up the crumb and flirt back, while other times he was a perfectly polite gentleman.  He never pushed for anything more than friendship, and she didn’t want to ruin that friendship and work camaraderie with her silly little crush, so she didn’t push either.  “I’ve got to get over that, Nat,” Y/N said quietly, looking down at her phone in her hands.  

Nat sighed as well, moving to sit next to her.  “He likes you, too, you know.  He just doesn’t know how to go about it.”

“You keep saying that, but nothing has changed,” Y/N said, giving her an unimpressed look.  “If he really likes me and wants me, then he would have done something about it by now.  I’m not going to wait around forever.  I deserve more, don’t I?”

“You do,” Natasha nodded.  “If you like this Lars guy, then go for it.  Even if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be a nice distraction.”

Y/N huffed a laugh.  

***

“She’s got a date,” Natasha said flippantly as she passed by Bucky in the hallway.

“What?” Bucky asked, looking at her confusedly.

“Y/N has a date, this Saturday,” Natasha said, looking back at him.  “With an Asgardian.”  Bucky’s eyes widened at her.  “You waited too long,” Natasha shrugged.  “She deserves to be loved, Barnes.  If you won’t give her that, she’ll find it elsewhere.”  She gave him a tight smile then turned and walked away.

Bucky exhaled sharply.  You waited too long.  The words rattled around in his brain.  Had he really waited too long?  He had a sneaking suspicion that maybe Y/N reciprocated his feelings, but he was too afraid to do anything about it.  Potential rejection and ruining a good friendship held him back, but now…was he actually losing her?

***

Y/N adjusted her dress for the millionth time that night.  It fit her well, accentuating all the right places, the color complimenting her skin tone beautifully.  She was wearing much more makeup and had her hair done up more than she ever normally would.  She looked herself over in the mirror again, then sighed and grabbed her small purse.  “Chill out,” she whispered to herself.  Y/N walked out of her room, her heels clicking against the floor as she headed towards the living room she had to pass through to get to the elevator.  When she entered everyone’s eyes were on her.

Sam let out a wolf whistle.  “Goddamn, Y/L/N, you’re looking good,” he said in a suggestive tone.  “You clean up nicely.”

Y/N blushed and Steve stood up from his spot on the couch next to Sam and approached her.  “You look beautiful,” he complimented her, giving her a side hug.  

Natasha joined him and took her hand.  “Give us a twirl,” she teased, raising their conjoined hands and turning her.  Y/N giggled as she circled herself around, posing with her foot popped up behind her when she was done. 

“Get you some Asgardian ass!” Peter piped up from the corner of the room.  “Show him what we Midgardians can do!”

Y/N blushed and covered her face with her hand as everyone laughed.  “Stop it, you guys,” she murmured.  “Thank you.”

“Doesn’t she look great, Buck?” Natasha asked with a teasing tone, arching her eyebrow as she looked behind Y/N into the kitchen off to the side of the living room.

Y/N turned to look at Bucky.  His eyes were wide as he looked at her from head to toe, pausing particularly along her curves.  He swallowed harshly and blinked, a slight frown marring his face.  “Yeah,” he agreed, shooting a dagger-filled look at Natasha.  He softened as he looked back at Y/N.  “You look amazing, doll,” he complimented her.  He gave her a tight smile, then hung his head and quickly left the kitchen, marching down the hallway to his bedroom where he closed the door soundly.  Everyone watched him leave with a frown.

Y/N sighed quietly.  “I um…I think I forgot something.  Thanks everybody,” she said, quickly walking back down the hallway.  They all said farewell to her as she made her way toward her room, but then looked back to make sure no one was watching her as she veered to Bucky’s door.  She stared at his door for a minute, trying to get the courage to knock.  She pulled out her phone and texted Lars before putting it on silent and pocketing it, then knocking on Bucky’s door.

She heard shuffling and then Bucky opened the door.  He looked dejected until he saw it was her, then his face quickly changed into a pleasant smile.  “Oh, hey doll,” he said quickly.  “I thought you were leaving?”

“Can I come in?” Y/N asked.

“Uh, sure,” Bucky said with a slight frown.  He opened the door wider and stepped back, and she walked inside.  As he closed the door behind her she stood awkwardly near the edge of his bed.  She had been in his room multiple times, whether for a movie night, random hang outs or helping him through another nightmare.  Now it seemed formidable as she steeled herself for his response.  “What’s up?” he asked, looking almost anywhere but at her.

Y/N inhaled deeply.  “Can you be honest with me?” she asked.  Bucky’s gaze snapped to her, his frown deepening.  “Tell me right now why you don’t want me to go on this date, and I won’t go,” she said, gulping at the tremble in her voice.  

Bucky shook his head.  “I…I don’t…I didn’t say that–”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N breathed.  She walked closer to him until she was almost toe-to-toe with him, looking up at him with longing and hope.  “Tell me you don’t want me to go.”

His mouth slightly dropped, his gaze flickering around her face.  “I…I don’t want you to go on the date,” he rushed out.

“Why?” Y/N pressed him.

Bucky blinked rapidly.  “Because you…you’re…” he sighed and closed his eyes.  “Because I want you to be mine.”

“Look at me,” Y/N whispered.  He slowly opened his eyes.  “Say it again.”

Bucky bit his lip then inhaled deeply.  He slowly leaned his head down until his forehead rested against her forehead.  “I want you to be mine,” he whispered.

“Then ask me,” Y/N whispered back with a small smirk on her face.

Bucky huffed a laugh, his hands grabbing her hands and holding her fingers loosely.  “Will you be mine, Y/N?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she replied, her smile widening.  

Bucky smiled back.  “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” he said.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, too,” Y/N said.  

He nuzzled her nose.  “You do look amazing, by the way,” he said, his gaze slipping down her body appreciatively.  “Too bad it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh please,” Y/N rolled her eyes at his moody cheekiness.  “Whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” Bucky chuckled.  His fingers moved up her arms, until he reached the dress straps on her shoulders.  He slowly pushed one down so it hung loosely on her arm, then leaned forward and kissed her naked shoulder.  “I’m pretty sure you were thinking of me, though.”

“So what if I was?” Y/N teased.

Bucky pouted against her skin.  “You like torturing me, don’t you doll?”

“Maybe a little bit,” Y/N said.  “I mean, I could text him, send him a picture of my dress–”

Bucky nipped at her skin and growled.  His metal hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her against him, his flesh hand gripping her hip.  “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed, his flesh hand traveling down to her ass and giving it a quick slap that had her gasping.  “I don’t share.”

“Neither do I,” Y/N huffed, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.  

“You better call and cancel with him,” Bucky snarled in her ear.  “‘Cause I’m not letting you leave my room for the next few days…if ever.”

“Already did,” Y/N smirked.  

He laughed against her neck before pulling back and looking at her.  “Careful, doll, or you’re gonna make me fall in love even deeper than I already am.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at that piece of information.  “I love you, too, Buck,” she said sincerely.

Bucky’s eyes softened and he smiled before finally kissing her gently.  She kissed him back fervently, angling her head to deepen the kiss as her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping his face pulled down to hers.  It quickly became passionate, Bucky’s hands kneading her ass then leaning down to pull and pick her up by her thighs.  Y/N yelped against his mouth as he started lifting her dress with one hand while the other kept her positioned around his waist, her legs crossed tight behind him.  He got the dress off before laying her down on the bed, his lips barely leaving her skin.

When he pulled back he looked down to find her bare breasts, a thin thong barely covering her pussy.  “Fucking hell, doll,” he murmured.  “What were you hoping for tonight, huh?”  His possessiveness returned, making his eyes darken again.  “Was this for him?”

“Who?” Y/N asked, biting back a smile.

A low rumble came from Bucky’s chest.  “You’re just a little tease, aren’t you?” he asked, his flesh hand slapping at the side of her ass.  

“Sometimes,” Y/N shrugged.

Bucky’s finger dipped below the string of her thong on her hip and started pulling it off.  He threw it off to the side and dipped that same finger in between her legs, feeling how wet she was already.  “You’re soaking, doll,” he cooed at her.  “Who made you this wet?”  Before she could answer, his hand slapped her pussy lightly, making her gasp in surprise, looking at him incredulously.  “Was it him?” he arched an eyebrow at her.

“No,” Y/N whispered.  “It was you.”

He slapped her pussy again, tearing a cry from her lips.  “Who was that?  I didn’t hear you,” he said with a playful grin.

“You!”  Y/N yelped.  “Only you!”

“That’s fucking right,” Bucky grunted, then rubbed at her clit in fast circles with his middle and pointer finger.  Y/N tensed at the pleasure that zinged through her pelvis from his actions, her eyes screwed shut as she let out a shuddering breath.  He leaned over her again, kissing up from her breasts to her neck where he sucked at her skin, leaving bruises blooming in his wake.  “Nobody else can make you feel like this, can they?” he asked, his teeth scraping against the column of her throat.

“Nobody,” Y/N moaned as his fingers started flicking her clit instead of rubbing.  “Shit!  Just like that!  Bucky…baby…”

“Oooh I like baby,” he chuckled against her skin, licking up her jaw.   “What else do you wanna call me?”

“Anything,” Y/N hiccuped, her hips gyrating against his hand.  “I’ll call you anything you want, just please let me cum!”

He slapped her pussy again, making her squeal.  “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Bucky…baby…handsome…fuck, honey, love, daddy!” she yelled.

Bucky chuckled again.  “Wow, never been called ‘daddy’ before,” he smirked down at her.  “Say it again.”

Y/N’s eyes pleaded with him.  “D-daddy…please…”

Bucky eyelids fluttered at the pet name.  “Yes, babydoll?”

Y/N squirmed at the new version of ‘doll,’ loving how he was playing into the pet names.  “Please!  Daddy please, make me cum!” she begged.

“I’ve got you, babydoll,” he groaned, then his fingers pinched her clit.  

Y/N gasped and whimpered until after a few precise flicks she finally came with a loud moan.  Her legs were shaking as she panted and eventually came down from the high of her orgasm.  “Fuck…” she sighed.

“Good girl, Y/N,” Bucky praised her, kissing her cheek sweetly.  “Do we need a condom?”  She shook her head, unable to fully form words.  “Thank god,” he said, then suddenly sat up straight and manhandled her until she was laying on her stomach.  He spread her legs and lifted her hips so she was up on her knees, her face down in the blanket.  He slapped her ass multiple times, massaging the sting, before she felt the tip of his cock slip through her lower lips.  She hadn’t even heard him taking his clothes off, and she gripped the pillows by her head as she prepared for his cock.  “Ready doll?” he asked.

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N mumbled.  Her hips slightly jiggled and moved back towards him, making the tip of his cock push into her.

“Fuck yeah, you want my cock, babydoll?” he groaned, gripping her hips.  “Say it.”

“I want your cock,” Y/N breathed.  She was still so turned on and lightheaded from her first orgasm and his possessive, rougher treatment that she didn’t even know she liked until now.  “Please give me your cock, Daddy.”

Bucky moaned and finally started pushing into her.  They both gasped at the feeling, Y/N whimpering as he continued to push in, large and overwhelming her tight pussy.  “Holy fuck, so tight,” Bucky huffed.  “I’m not gonna be able to stop, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to,” Y/N said, trying to look back at him.  “Fuck me, Daddy.”

“Jesus Christ!” Bucky whimpered, then slammed his hips into her, making her scream.  He set a punishing pace, the skin slapping against skin echoing in his room between his grunts and her whimpers.  Within just a few minutes his grip became bruising as he chased his release.  “I’m gonna cum, babydoll.”

“Please…”

“Gonna fill you up…”

“Fuck yes.”

“Then I’ll fuck you again.  And again.  Mark you from the inside out, so he knows you’re mine.”

“Yes Daddy!”

“That’s right, scream my name.  Make everybody know you’re mine!  Let them know who’s fucking you this good!”

Y/N came again at his command, screaming his name as her pussy clamped down around him, her entire body shaking.  Bucky was right behind her, her pussy milking him of everything he had, cumming with a shout and falling on top of her.  They shivered against each other, his panted breaths fanning her neck and his hair tickling her ear as she twitched from the aftershocks.  

“Damn, babydoll,” Bucky breathed after a few minutes.  He lifted himself and slowly pulled out of her.  Y/N groaned at the loss of his fullness.  Bucky lay next to her and pulled her in to snuggle against his side.  He brushed her hair from her face with his fingers and stared at her adoringly.  “Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” she whispered, smiling at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes.  “I’m sorry, I got carried away–”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Y/N giggled.  “Great, actually…Daddy.”

“Don’t start yet,” Bucky narrowed his eyes at her.  “Let me recover first.”

She giggled again.  “So jealous and moody,” she teased.

Bucky grinned proudly.  “Only for you, doll.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Guilty As Sin

Batter Up Chapter 6

!!! This takes place After Chapter 2, when reader and Joel's relationship was still a secret. !!!

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What if Joel did in fact write MINE on your upper thigh when the two of you sneak away from your friend's wedding? Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, bondage, a singular ass slap, neck tie turning into a gag, Joel's got a dirty mouth,spot the Taylor Swift lyrics in my writing, panties are getting ripped off. Words: 3,030

A/N: Baseball Joel is back. Thank you for being so patient with me during my hiatus. I've had this fic rattling in my brain since I heard "Guilty As Sin" by Taylor... and I may have been in feral mode while writing this. This can be read alone, without knowing most of the story of Batter Up.

Masterlist Series Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Blake Velasco, the Capitals’ celebrated third baseman is finally marrying his longtime partner, and your friend, Gemma. You tell yourself you flew in for her, but really you’re here to see one of Blake’s groomsmen… Joel. You’ve been dreading today, your first official outing as a couple and nobody knows.

The two lovebirds really went all out for their December wedding. Crystal covered snowflakes hang from the rafters glitter in the flickering candle light, urns of white roses fill every extra space, golden and white tones fill the opulent mansion. 

Soft orchestral music begins, your skin instantly heats at the realization you’ll soon see Joel. Internally fighting and cursing every urge to turn in your seat and wait for the first sight of your boyfriend, you’re finding it hard to keep your cool. The procession begins, heartbeats begin skipping beats once you spot the same curls you like to tug hanging low against his neck. His longer offseason hair is slicked back, wide shoulders hugged perfectly by his form fitting black tuxedo. You can’t look away from his broadness walking down the aisle. 

Joel takes his place at the altar, the whole room dissolves around him. He searches for you, a perfunctory nod sent your parents' way turns into a smug smile once he spots you. His eyes crinkle in the corners, the same creases that show themselves whenever he’s closing his eyes in bliss appearing. He’s so debonair, all dressed up in his tuxedo, you want to wrap the silk black tie around your hand and pull him closer.

You’re sure he can tell how he’s affecting you. Helplessly trying to focus elsewhere, your eyes attempt to roam the room before staring at the chandelier above and bracing yourself for the next half hour of trying not to look at Joel standing tall and striking only three rows away. You look towards him, he’s still staring at you, a whimper chokes out. You brush a pretend piece of lint off your dress trying to cover your audible slip up catching your mom’s attention. She leans over and asks if you’re okay, you give her a weak smile and nod. Joel’s eyes still watch you, an imperceptible wink sent your way. Relief soothes your tenseness once the bridal procession begins. This is going to be awful. 

___

Swaying trees twinkle in the wind, fairy lights cascade down the branches, the shining orbs glow all around you, you wish they could warm you. It’s too damn cold. You just had to choose the tight gold dress only held together in the back by thin straps? You really had to forget your shawl in the reception? Sure, you wanted Joel to untie and unwrap you tonight, but now you wonder if it was all worth it... stuck shrouded in darkness behind the gazebo. Your teeth chitter, hands trying to rub warmth into your limbs while waiting for Joel to finally meet you far away from the picturesque mansion. 

You can just make out the loud music playing mostly drowned out by the raucous shouting of the party attendees. Your phone buzzes in your hand. Sorry, stuck talking, be out ASAP. You thumbs up Joel’s text and roll your eyes. Since when did he like talking? It’s been ten minutes and you’re freezing and frustrated. Joel’s teammates, your parents, and your friends are all in that far away house. Nobody has any clue about your tryst.

He’s been in your proximity all day, the two of you trading as many quick glances you can afford, a rush sent to your heart every time your eyes meet. Looking at him’s like playing with fire, you just can’t help yourself even though you burn yourself each time. He’s ridiculously handsome and he’s been driving you insane all day. 

Your wet core aches and you haven’t even touched him.

Joel Miller in a suit consumes your thoughts all day. Conversations flow around you, contrition and lust warring in your brain. It’s impossible pretending to listen to whatever story or joke people keep droning on about while he stands only a few feet away. Your nerves work overtime thinking everyone can plainly see all the fantasies in your head. Propriety in these situations always came easy to you, but today you’re suffering, longing for your boyfriend.

Looking up at the stars twinkling above you, you sigh, at least it’s a clear night.

A warm weight pushes against your back, Joel’s arms wrap around you, a large hand splaying against your stomach while the other rests across your breast bone. You’re instantly warmed. 

“Sorry baby, got caught up ‘n had to sneak out without anybody seeing,” he inhales your scent. “You look fucking amazing, it’s been so hard to stay away from you.” 

He pushes you harder against him, the shape of his half hard cock rubs against your ass.  

“Been having to adjust myself all fuckin’ night because of you in that dress, feel like I’m being haunted.”

His hands cup the weight of your silk draped breasts, his breath is hot against your neck when he kisses it. 

“We should probably find a safer place, anyone who looks hard enough could probably see us,” you groan.

“I know a place, slipped an usher a couple hundred.”

___

Joel leads you down a path back towards the house staying in the shadows of the outskirts of the yard, he confidently navigates the maze of hedges ahead of you. A dark building stands alone and quiet, perfect for the two of you.

Joel punches in a code on the door lock and opens it. Trepidation enters when you realize exactly what you’re doing. Sneaking into the guest house of the rented mega mansion your friends got married in to fuck your boyfriend that they, and everyone else, have no clue about. You’ve never been religious, but you feel like a sinner. 

“Is this okay to do?” the contrition begins to rear its head.

“It is baby, paid off a couple more members of the staff too. Cost me a couple grand.”

He leers at you like he’s a wolf and you’re the prey, he wants this. 

“Jesus Joel!”

“It’ll be worth it.”

He crowds and pushes you in before kicking the door shut. 

“Lock it,” you breathe. 

You’ve been caged up all night, now he’s here with you, his mouth on your neck. It’s time to crack the locks. You turn, crashing against him, hiking up your dress and wrapping a leg around him to rub your core against the soft fabric of his suit.

Your kisses are rushed and messy, moans floating in between your already labored breaths. 

“Fuck,” Joel pulls away, his eyes blown out with lust. “Turn back around baby, once I saw the straps of your dress, I had an idea.”

You follow his directions, turning quickly, heels wobbling on your shaky knees as he runs his fingers up your exposed spine. 

“This dress is something baby, love these delicate little strings all over your back.” He begins to untie the threads criss-crossing your back. “S’like you’re my own little present.” His fingers are quick and precise, chills shoot up your spine at his touch. “Turn back around baby.” You face him, dress falling to your hips. A mischievous glint in his eyes sparkles as he holds up two thin strips of silk. 

“What’s your plan?” Your heart shatters against your chest when he arches his eyebrows and licks his lips.

“M’gonna tie you up ’n take you right here in this guest house while everyone we know is just across the yard. You good with that?”

Your mouth drops, uttering a pathetic yes, your cunt aching with anticipation. 

“That’s my good girl,” Joel grabs a marker off the counter top. “Now, they told me there’s a bedroom to the left.” 

___

“Well, would you look at that? Gold sheets to match your pretty silk dress,” Joel chuckles. “Of course they have a four poster bed in their guest house, some people are too rich for their own good.” 

A light push lands you amongst the soft sheets. Joel takes in your flushed cheeks, parted lips, and gold dress sitting askew definitely too wrinkled for its own good. 

He hangs his jacket on the chair back, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. The sheets feel velvety smooth, you can’t keep still. 

Joel grabs your foot, easily turning your body around, the silk of your dress slides across the satin sheets. 

“Stretch your arms like this, baby,” Joel makes a T-pose to demonstrate.

You follow his direction. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

He straddles you, a bit of his weight placed against your stomach, his thick thighs strain in the black pants, your mouth waters at his closeness. He picks up a wrist, tying the string around you and the bed poster before doing the same for your other wrist. He tugs on both, smiling when they barely move. 

“They feel good baby?”

“Perfect. I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Me neither, but I think we’re going to like it.” 

He runs a hand down to your bra, effortlessly snapping the front hooks open. You blink in awe at the size of him taking up so much space on this king sized bed. 

He runs a hand down your face, pausing at your lips, dipping his thumb in to cover it in saliva. His thumb leaves a trail of wet down your chin and neck to your breast, circling your nipple before pinching it. You attempt to buck your hips at the sensation but you’re met with resistance from his weight. Both of Joel’s hands grab your tits, deep brown eyes getting darker when he watches himself push them together. 

“Look how perfect your tits fit in my hands. Perfect fucking size, so fucking smooth and pretty. It’s like they were made for me.”

Joel scoots back, now straddling your legs and pushes your dress up to rest against your stomach. He whistles a low note, taking in your soaked panties. 

“Baby, you’ve made a mess down here, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and nod.

“I’ll clean you up because this is my pussy and I gotta keep it in good shape, don’t I darlin’?”

“Yes,” you coo, another gush releases against the silk of your panties. 

“Because this pussy is mine, right baby?”

“Fuck,” you howl, body begining to quiver under his attention. “Yes Joel, all yours.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Just because all those people in that house can’t see it, everyone knows, right baby? You’ll always be mine.”

“Oh my god, yes, I’m only yours.” “Perfect.”

Joel reaches into his pocket, pulling a black Sharpie out and uncapping it. He looks up for approval, you frantically nod wanting to find out the mystery. 

The marker tip is placed against your upper thigh, the ink is cool against your searing skin. You lift your head up to watch Joel. 

M-I-N-E is written on your upper thigh. 

Your head slips back down against the pillows overwhelmed by the way Joel licks his lips while staring at his inscription against your skin. He caps the marker, placing it back in his pocket before laying down between your legs, stretching your thighs wide to fit him. 

Nuzzling his head in between your thighs, his mouth rests against your drenched panties. The sight must look so depraved, Joel’s almost fully dressed inhaling your scent with his nose nestled in between the divide of your folds as you writhe underneath him, your hands tied to a stranger’s bed. He grabs the seam of your flimsy silk underwear and tears them off, you’d chastise him if you weren’t so fucking ready to feel his mouth against you right now.

“You’re mine baby, forever,” his fudgy brown eyes gaze into yours when his tongue darts out and licks a long stripe up your aching pussy.  

He groans against your drenched cunt, lapping up all of the slick you’ve spilled out through the day. Your hands tighten against the restraints when he sucks your clit in the perfect way he always does. A thick finger circles your entrance, his tongue slowly teases your clit, both cause you to drown in satisfaction. You love how he looks in between your legs, his strong nose bumping against your skin, dark eyes focused on your face.

Your hips begin grinding against his face when he sticks another finger in, his biceps stretch across the white dress shirt with his movements. In, out, in, out, his two thick fingers fuck you, his lush mouth still adoring your clit with every lick and suck.

The silk ties pull at your wrists, your fingers dig into your palm, the buildup of watching handsome Joel Miller at a wedding made you ache all day, and now he’s here eating your pussy. You’re so overwhelmed by him, his love, his adoration, his fucking perfect mouth. Your orgasm rolls through you, your cunt rides the wave of pleasure against his mouth, grinding into his gorgeous face. 

He doesn’t let up, a third finger is pushed inside, his tongue traverses every dip, fold, and nerve. He pulls his fingers out and rests them against your aching entrance before burying them right back in. You shout his name over and over, chants of Joel screams across the room.

He pulls away.

“Baby, you gotta quiet down,” Joel’s face covered in your juices pulls a raucous moan out of you. “Baaaaaby,” he chastises, hand flying up to pull his tie apart. He balls the tie in his hand before stuffing it into your mouth. “Quiet.” 

You moan around the tie, biting down on it hard, shaking and aching as another climax splinters you. Your vision turns just as black as the tie currently packed in your mouth. Your arms burn as they strain against the ties, your legs locking straight.

“That’s it, baby, I’m fucking drowning in you,” Joel’s voice brings you back down. Your eyes open to him licking his top lip, tasting and savoring you. 

He pulls the tie from your mouth.

“I love you,” you weakly whisper, shattered by him yet again.

“Love you too baby,” Joel places a kiss against your makeshift MINE tattoo before climbing up your body and untying your restraints. 

__

He kisses each wrist as you shake them out. 

“You good baby?” 

“Of course I am,” you smile.

His thumb rubs your cheek, a doting look sits across his features. He still resembles the perfect picture of a formal man, shirt still buttoned, hair still perfectly placed, the only sign of any mischief being his missing suit jacket and sleeves pulled up to his elbows… until you notice his erection bulging his zipper out.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know what.”

“Oh,” Joel clutches his crotch in his large hand. “This, baby? Well, since you’re mine, I’m going to fill you with my cum and make you even more mine. Now, turn over.” 

__

Your head rests against the silk pillow, heart beginning to race hearing the unzip of Joel’s dress pants. Your legs are pulled apart before he covers you in his weight, the cool cotton of his shirt brushes against your overheated skin. 

His cock nudges between your legs, you adjust to allow him full entrance. Joel slowly pushes in, his arms framing your head settling fully above you. His deep exhale hits the back of your neck. 

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” sprawls from him.

“Hmph– oooooh,” a conceited retort is interrupted when Joel buries himself in you. 

“You feel so fucking good, been needing to fuck you since I saw you, sitting all pretty at the ceremony then watching you twirl on that dance floor, you’re so fucking gorgeous, still can’t believe you’re mine.”

Your bodies rock together, his big cock filling you, you’re engulfed by Joel. It’s delightful. 

“Mine,” his hoarse whisper ghosts against your ear before he tugs against it with his teeth. 

The tempo of his thrusts rises, your cunt gladly accepting the volume. 

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re mine, aren’t you? Only mine. Tell me,” he grunts.

“I’m… I-I’m yours, all yours,” squeals pathetically from your mouth, muffled by the pillow. 

Each snap of his hips against your ass sears so heatedly, you fear the bed sheets will be set ablaze. 

He rolls against the exact spot that amplifies your soul, a chorus of bliss strums through you. Symphonic ecstasy ripples overwhelming you, eyes squeezing shut, mouth screaming into the fluffy pillow. Your pussy flutters against his cock cramming your hole, the two of you entwined in a duet you’ll never tire of. 

Your head turns, lungs panting for air, whimpers yelping across the room as he rides your orgasming pussy, composing the melody of his own burgeoning orgasm. 

His hips stutter, the rhythm getting lost at the crescendo of his climax. 

Your name is moaned out, large hands gripping into your shoulders, his broad body collapses against you, briefly smothering you before rolling off.  

A quick smack stamps against your ass.

“Mine,” Joel growls. 

___

The mirror reflects someone who looks freshly fucked, Joel, on the other hand still looks flawless, his suit jacket already applied. He winks at your reflection while he efficiently knots his tie. 

“I get to go back now with no underwear, my hair’s a mess, and your cum is still leaking out of me, thanks. Hope everyone just thinks I’m drunk.”

He laughs a booming laugh, before kissing the top of your hair. “Anytime baby.”

Joel throws a stack of cash from his jacket on to the table before adjusting his tie, the smooth texture so obviously disfigured by your bite marks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you hug him tightly. 

“Tomorrow. I love you.” He sandwiches your chin between his fingers, placing one last kiss against your mouth. “Go have fun, I’ll be watching.”

“Love you too,” you breathily sigh, adjusting your wrinkled dress and heading for the door, with the final obstacle ahead… convincing all of your loved ones inebriated by the open bar that you’ve been there the whole time. 

“Miiiine,” he sing songs through the closing door. 

Guilty as sin.

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Not Sober.

“What is that smell?” Al asked, walking into the living room. She made her way to her chair- the only safe place to sit in the whole apartment. The men knew it was off limits for any and all bodily fluids, their pimply asses were not allowed to touch her fucking chair. 

“Oh sorry Al.” Wade said from the couch. There was a warble to his voice that instantly concerned her. She sat down and turned to face the other. The smell hit her next.

“Oh for fuck sakes.” There was a weak laugh from Wade at that. She shook her head disapprovingly. “You know what the doctor said.”

“That noes doesn’t miss anything, does it all.” There was a sound of someone sucking hard on something. A second later the smell of something with a fake fruity smell hit the air. 

“Wade.” She sighed before shaking out her head. “Did you at least get a good one this time?”

“Uhh dunno. Found it in the back of a drawer.” He spoke slowly, and she held her hand out.

“Motherfucker. This probably isn't even yours.” It hit her hand a second later, she brought it to her mouth and took a long breath in. She held it for a moment before puffing it out. “You are in luck, you little shit. I’d never buy something weak.”

“It’s not that weak when you’ve smoked half of it already.”

“Yeah you are right. Want to tell me why?” There was another inhale as Wade took another puff. 

“Because fuck it. Fuck every fucking damn thing. Just fuck it.” She shifted in her seat, getting more comfy for the rant she knew was going to come sooner or later. 

“What are we fucking and why?” She put her feet up and patted her lap. A second four legs were on her. She pet Mary as she wanted for Wade to wind up. 

The bottles on the side table rattled as Wade stood up quickly. “Fuck my doctor. Fuck my brain. Fuck every fucking thing.” 

“Had a bad day?” She asked as he started pacing back and forth. Wade inhaled again on the stick.

“No! That’s what makes it worse. I’ve had a good week, the best fucking week I’ve had in months. Only one bad day after talking to Dr. No-More-Weed-ingson.” 

“You haven’t smoked in 5 months. So why did you sweetheart?” There was a thump, and from the sounds of it, Wade was on the floor staring up at the ceiling no doubt. 

“I don’t know Al. Maybe because I kept telling myself I could start smoking it again soon? I just had to wait it out.” She hummed “And now it’s a forever no. Apparently it can make everything worse. Don’t they fucking get it that it makes it better?” There was some movement as Wade rolled around on the floor. “Everything is slower. I can be stupid- more stupid- than normal. I can get lost in my brain without all the bad coming. I just have to think of kittens, or Keanu Reeves and everything is light. I don’t have to be back on earth where everything is dark and it sucks ass.”

“Yeah, being sober is hard. Makes everything more real. You are struggling with the unreal Wade. You should keep the upper hand and stay where it’s more real.” There was a loud sigh and a thud as something hit the wall. She guessed the pen,It better have been empty before he tossed it out. 

“You’re right… I should but sometimes I don’t want to. Just for the next few hours, I need to float away. To have some control over my fucking body by not having control. Then I’ll get sober again, I’ll stop smoking weed.” 

“You can do it sweetie. You have a good head on your shoulders, when it is on your shoulders.” She felt a hand squeeze her foot and gave a little jump.

“Thanks Al. You can see so much that I can’t… Though right now I wish you could, cause I think my brain floated away. Do you ever think ‘damn chickens are sick as fuck.’ We have cool ass little dinosaurs, and I can have it in my home. Oh my god Al, Al, chickens are the only dinosaurs we can eat.”

“What about turkey?” 

“Al, holy shit we can eat more than one dinosaur. That just blew my mind.”  “Oh Logan is going to hate this.” “I’m going to hate what?”

--

don't do drugs kids. or do them safely and talk with your doctor.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Sally Headcanons

We’re gonna ignore how long it’s been since the last HC post ok?

Honestly idek what to say here about Sally as a character. The fandom has dragged her through the mud and back, not to mention her creator is…. That. But I’ve already included her in my HCs list, and I do have some things rattling around in my brain about her.

For clarification, yes, my Sally does follow the original story, but I’m going to try to steer away from that specific aspect of it, because I am a firm believer that you do not need to put CSA/SA into your horror media to make it scary, especially as a victim of CSA myself. However, I’d say Sally is a warning for those kinds of topics in and of itself unfortunately.

Depressing ass rant over, here are the headcanons you freaks

For all intensive purposes, that is still very much a child

If you had to ask those around her how they perceive her, Sally most often looks like a seven year old little girl with a glaringly large brain injury. Goopy brains, bulging eyes, and a fuckton of blood included

It does go further than that, though. The closer someone is to Sally, the more “normal” she looks

For example, to LJ and Nina, she looks like a normal little girl, sans a physical form

But for someone like Jane, Sally looks like a very grotesque victim of violence

Every one else sees her in between

For some odd reason, Sally has a particular effect on those around her that make them more susceptible to feeling pity and a sense of empathy and care for her

It’s an unconscious thing, Sally isn’t doing it on purpose, and those around her can’t control their emotions once in Sally’s vicinity

Unlike Nina, there is an explanation for why Sally has this effect on people

Add the cult centered around [REDACTED] to your bingo card folks, because they tried to fuck with Sally after death too

Unlike with Jane and Liu, the cult didn’t want to resurrect her to become a new follower. Instead, they wanted to make an example for how good their god is by bringing back such a poor, innocent youth stolen way too young

Of course, like always, they fucked up

So instead of coming back normally, Sally’s soul is now split into two parts

The normal undead little girl part

And the lesser demon that tried to hitch a ride

It’s not a Liu situation however. Sally is still fully “herself” and in control of her own mind at all times. Her mind is just… a lot more fucked up now. Because now she’s got half a demon functioning as part of her consciousness

It’s not two individuals acting separately, it’s two individuals merged into one. It would be nigh impossible to separate the two now, especially since Sally has gotten so used to feeling the way she feels with the influence of the other half on her mind

Imagine it like mixed paint. You can’t exactly turn green back into blue and yellow by taking out one of the colors, same goes for how Sally is now

So just imagine a normal seven year old kid who also thinks saw trap levels of torment and torture are entertaining. That’s basically Sally’s MO

Like most others, Sally would rather talk about anything else than her past for very obvious and painful reasons

Most know about her past and know not to bring it up, in general and especially around her

Yes these are murderers but we all know damn well they’ve got enough of a moral code to know that the shit that happened to her crosses a line for pretty much all of them

The others however don’t know about the whole half demon thing, and Sally wants to keep it that way

Eyeless Jack is the only one who knows, and has tried to talk to her about it, but considering Sally is absolutely terrified of him, he hasn’t made any progress on it

Sally is scared of Eyeless Jack for two reasons:

Doctors are terrifying to little kids in general. Which Sally still very much is

Sally’s uncle was a doctor

Jack knows about the typical kid fear of doctors, but not about that specific part of Sally’s history

Sally’s uncle being a man of such “high standing” is why her case was dropped fairly quickly. There was no arrest, no trial, not even an accusation

So it’s really no surprise how fast she went after him once she regained sentience

If the other residents knew the full extent of the hell she unleashed on this man, they’d be impressed, in a “holy shit that’s scary” way

LJ likes Sally specifically because of how chill she is when it comes to intense violence. Like he gives her toys made of organs type shit

Sometimes the others forget she’s still a child because of how chill she is with a lot of depraved shit. Ben’s gamer shenanigans, Jason’s demented toys, Jeff’s vulgarity. None of that really phases her. The kid is fluent in swear words too

She doesn’t scare easily, but she does get upset easily. She gets cranky when she hasn’t had enough rest, gets irritable when she’s ignored, and can and will throw a tantrum if you take something away from her

Not necessarily a spoiled brat but a lot of the mansion’s residents would rather appease her demands than deal with a poltergeist who can and will throw sharp objects if you tell her no

Being a ghost has its perks and downsides. On the one hand, she can phase through walls and shit, turn invisible, possess objects, and drops the temperature of any room she’s in

On the other hand, she has an extremely difficult time holding onto any object for longer than a minute. Do not let this girl hold anything because it will end up on the floor and broken

Fellow partial ghost Ben has been seen trying to teach her how to be more stable when making physical contact. It’s still very much a work in progress

Is friends/close with: Ben, LJ, Nina, Jason, Kagekao, and Helen

Has a tolerable relationship with: Masky, Ann, Hoody, Jeff, Liu, Puppeteer, and Clockwork

HATES: Eyeless Jack, Jane

Somehow has no idea who or what Slenderman is. As far as everyone else is concerned, it should probably stay that way. With how unstable her emotions are, most of them dread whatever reaction she’d have to it

Dislikes Jane for the sole reason of her being ignored all the time by her. Sally doesn’t understand that Jane is subconsciously aware of her half-demon nature and is thus avoiding her for that reason. Sally just thinks she’s being a big meanie

She’s in shambles over the fact she doesn’t need to, or is able to eat anymore. Do y’all know how badly this child would kill for a grilled cheese or a snickers bar? It’s agony for her. Anything she bites into and/or swallows just phases through her onto the floor. It’s sad to watch, if she even bothers to try it anymore. After the first few times she’s kinda given up hope on that front

She does like that she can go inside shit. She loves possessing her stuffed animals and walking around as them

Haunting the TV is also a fun pastime. Nothing like changing the channel on Jeff while he’s watching the news broadcast on one of his murders and seeing him flip out over it

[thriftingfreak]

Nothing Lasts Forever

Pairing: Luke Castellan x female ares!reader

Summary: Some moments in time where Luke and you can’t seem to figure out how you feel about one another. Part 1??? Maybe more if y’all like it!

Warnings: Yearning. Pretty much a yearning page at this point. Also a lot of background building. My bad yall. This is so long i’m sorry _____________________________________

the very first night

The day you rolled into camp is a day that will go down in infamy.

At least, for Luke it would.

There was no day he would ever remember more clearly.

The sun rose among the clouds beating down upon the plethora of kids and teenagers. He could remember helping some of the younger Demeter and Dionysus kids in the fields with their different crops ranging from strawberries to the beloved camp grapes. Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of grapes himself but he never turned down one from a Dionysus kid.

“Yes, those look perfect Courtney” A grin spread wide across his face as he watched the girl pluck a perfectly ripe strawberry from the plant. If anyone knew how to grow good fruit, it was a Demeter kid.

As he stood up, he brushed his khaki shorts clear of dirt. A flash of a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he came eye to eye with a very bewildered face.

“Where am I?” You muttered out. You bent over, placing your hands on your knees. He could tell that you had been running from something terrifying enough to prompt the expression.

“Camp Half-Blood” was all Luke could muster up.

“What?” Oh, this poor girl had no idea how her life was about to change.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking you up and down. Your jean shorts were slashed and your right elbow looked like it had been burned.

You looked up after catching your breath, you shook your head. It was a dumb question, because anyone could see you clearly weren’t doing too great. To this day Luke still felt embarrassment from it.

But even with your confusion and aloofness, you followed him to the infirmary and get the cuts and gashes cleaned up.

Your feet dragged along the path, a couple feet behind him. When Luke turned around, your eyes were pointed toward the ground to the mud stained tennis shoes.

He wanted to explain Camp Half-Blood and every single thing that came with it, the good and the bad. Although now definitely wasn’t the best time. He was afraid you would burst into tears or worse, start hitting him. Luke learned that some of the campers react in that manor, the hard way. Thoughts rattled his brain trying to figure out the best decision.

“Why are you staring at me? Never seen a girl been chased by a big ass bear before?” you snipped at him. At least she wasn’t crying, he thought.

“Uh, actually I have” Luke smiled at you, hoping you would appreciate the sentiment.

You did not. A scowl festered on your face. Maybe from all this anger you’d end up being an Ares kid.

This thought process would prove him to be correct.

Entering the infirmary, he guided you over to a room with several beds. Collapsing on one of them, you shoved your shoes off. You brought your knees to your chest, staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to comprehend the sudden and profound change in your life. Luke knew the feeling all too well.

Luke sat down in the chair across from you. He watched you, almost with care. You seemed to notice though because you immediately sat up.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” He noticed the sudden quietness in your voice.

Taking a deep breath Luke started the same speech he gave every new camper, with some exceptions. He left out minor details usually directed toward young campers. You clearly weren’t young, at least 16 or 17. Pretty old for a new camper but hey, Luke didn’t discriminate. A part of him didn’t want to scare you away with all of the knew information, leading to little white lies.

“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow morning of camp but I think you should just rest up for now” Luke stood up, walking toward the door. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew the Apollo kids had to do their job.

“Oh by the way” He turned around to face you, “I’m Luke.”

You gave him a curt nod before shutting the door in his face. __________________________________________

a place in this world

It took a couple of months but it finally seemed like you were settling in. Even though your mom had told you about the Gods and Goddesses and how your father was a God, you didn’t have the heart to believe her. That was, until a hairy brown creature was chasing after you.

For the first time in weeks you noticed you didn’t wake up with a heavy heart, missing home.

Someone else noticed it too.

Luke, very slowly, had built up your trust. He really was a good guy, even though he annoyed the piss out of you at first. Countless lonely nights in the Hermes cabin had been made better by him. He would listen to you complain about everything and cry over missing your mom.

That was until an intense game of flag football concluded in being claimed.

After Chris had thrown the ball to some poor Athena kid, you chased after him. Yanking the strap around his waist so hard it sent him flying into the ground. When the ball launched up in the air, you had caught it, sprinting so hard you thought you were going to throw up. In the end, it didn’t end up counting as a point for your team, to your disappointment. Although when a red holographic boar appeared over your head, peace finally seemed to settle in your heart.

The Athena kid did end up in the infirmary after the game but in your defense no one had explained the rules of flag football to you.

On the other hand being claimed meant moving out of the Hermes cabin. In some ways, this was an upside. No more blue dye in your shampoo or whip cream on your face. You wouldn’t feel like you wanted to drown the Stoll brother.

The one who was affected by your claiming the most though was no other than Luke. So many warm nights of your body heat radiating off of his own were no longer. He couldn’t reach out to you in the dark anymore. Now it’s for the better, he thought.

Even with these bubbling feelings, he couldn’t force himself to come to terms with them. They would sit in the back of his throat, burning and itching. But maybe the pain was worth it.

That night he helped you pack your things up to move in with your newfound siblings.

“I wonder why it took so long to get claimed” You wondered out loud, shoving your childhood teddy bear into your backpack.

“The Gods do everything on their own time” Luke’s face fell into a solemn stare. You knew it was a touchy subject for him, specifically his own father. Ares may not have been the best shoulder to lean on but in his own ways he still managed to beat out Hermes by a mile.

Doing your best to shake his mind from it you said, “Did you see Bryce though? I really didn’t mean to yank him so hard” You smiled at Luke and in return you were granted the smallest laugh.

The next morning, you were itching to hang out with your friends (and distance yourself a tad from your brand new siblings). It was a group Luke got along with, but didn’t care much for. Gods knows why. Of course, however, your new found sister Clarisse remained a part of the friend group and Luke never really liked her. She was soft with you and some of your other siblings but rarely anyone else.

The rocky path crumbled under your shoes as you made your way to dinner. You swung your water bottle around your hands before spotting a warm and familiar face.

“Hey Poppy” a smile broached your face. You linked arms with the daughter of Athena. Even though you loved your friendship with Luke, Poppy was your number one. She had only been here for a month before your arrival, causing a very tight knitted bond between the two of you.

“How was the first night in the Ares cabin?” Sharing a look, you both knew the answer. You shrugged. There wasn’t much to share. Your brothers and sisters didn’t seem to hold their rage as well as you thought they might. Arguments ended in screaming matches. Or a dagger being thrown.

“Listen, I’m hot-headed but they really take it to the next level” You both giggled.

Right before you stepped up to the pavilion, Poppy unhooked your arms, turning to face you. “Are you sitting with us today or,” she paused and in air quotes she said “Lukie Pookie?”

Ah yes, the nickname everyone around camp designated upon him. You knew Poppy meant no harm by it but even just by the mention of him, it felt like a pillow smashed your stomach.

Brushing it off you quickly looked around for him, “I was planning on sitting with you guys and I don’t even think he’s here yet.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow and pointed to the curly haired boy across the pavilion. Shrugging once more, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the opposite side of the benches.

Your friends, a cluster of kids from different cabin, were gathered in their usual spot. Before you could even sit down, someone called out your name. Whipping around, it seemed as if the curly haired boy teleported.

“Speak of the devil” Poppy muttered. You lightly smacked her shoulder.

“Hey” A soft smile graced Luke’s lips, “Mind if I sit?”

Interesting.

His eyes lingered in yours for a moment before you shook yourself out of it.

“Of course!” You patted the spot next to you. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to the group, just incase.

A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes but he plopped down anyway.

“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to ask you Luke” your friend Ben started “I was wondering if you could help me with my swordsmanship?”

Luke nodded quickly before turning to face you. It was the signal that he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Although you knew Ben would pry about it later as Ben was also a child of Hermes.

But he didn’t see things in the way you did. Instead Luke focused on how your hair fell in front of your eyes. It took everything he had in him to not move it. Others around him could talk and talk and talk but he was only ever focused on you. Over and over again he chose you. But what were best friends for, right? __________________________________________

snow on the beach

The sound of footsteps against a shallow pier never particularly bothered Luke. That was if they weren’t disturbing his peace.

The humming of the trees blowing in the wind, soothed his mind over. His eyes followed the way the fish swam with air bubbles peeking over the surface.

Watching the water helped slow everything down. His particularly dense relationship with his father was starting to wear down on him. Luke knew how even the scar on his face didn’t do his hatred justice.

Too clouded by his thoughts, he didn’t notice a familiar giggle breezing behind him.

You placed your fingers over Luke’s eyes and he immediately reached up to touch your hands.

He turned around and peered up, meeting your gaze. Luke’s breathe slowed when he met your eyes. There was a mutual sense of warmth between the two of you. Shared between little moments of laughter and light. And just by looking up at you, he knew he was in a little too deep.

Luke could, of course, fess up. But even the thought of that made him want to hurl his cookies. It’s not like he wanted these feelings and trust, he’s tried to get rid of them. They were more painful than awkward. The flutter in his stomach when you stood just a little to close to him. The way he caught his breath anytime you looked up at him and smiled. Or the shakiness in his throat and on his tongue whenever you quipped a snarky comment.

He quickly stood up reveling how he towered over you so easily.

His eyes glanced down to your hands which had been pulling something out of your jean pocket. A small string bracelet was cupped between your hands.

He snatched it from you, looking it over. It was covered in red and blue zig zags. His favorite colors.

“Hey” you whined, “I worked hard on that.”

A grin broke out on his face, “Is it for me?”

You frowned, “Well it was supposed to be but since you don’t seem to have much patience, I’ll be taking it right back!”

Before you could seize the gift back, Luke’s arm shot up in the air, holding the bracelet overhead. It was a trick he pulled on you plenty of times. Of course it did nothing but annoy you yet that was the fun of it.

Many could not dupe a child of Hermes. Even so, if there is one thing you inherited from your father it was the fight response in oppose to flight.

Your hands wrapped around the front of Luke’s orange t shirt, bunching it into a fist. Swiftly you yanked him back just enough before you efficiently shoved him backwards.

In the blink of an eye, he performed a large flop into the lake. Although the water that had skyrocketed upwards, dunked you clean with water. Worth it.

Now soaking wet, his mane of dark curly hair, bobbed up and down in the water.

“Not cool” He sputtered out. He pulled his upper body on the dock, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You sighed, knowing what was about to happen. In order to escape future prank endeavors, you had to let him do it.

Before you knew it, you were handing over your right to dry clothes.

Head hitting the water first, you tumbled off the deck. Your entire body, including the dry clothes, plunged into the inhospitable water. How on earth could fish swim in water this cold?

As soon as you breached the water, Luke shoved your head down. Well played.

“Was that necessary?” you groaned, water stuck in your ears and nose. Luckily it was pretty shallow otherwise you would have been way more upset.

“I have bad news” Luke paused, running a hand through his hair, “I think I lost your bracelet” He hesitantly waited for the backlash he was about to receive.

As soon as your mouth started to curl into a frown he knew it was over.

You dove headfirst into Luke. He tumbled back and you pushed him so far under he hit the sand. Although it wasn’t that deep, he managed to grab onto you, pulling you underwater with him.

Your laugh threw bubbles all around. His brown eyes shot open. For a minute he seemed like he was searching yours for something.

In just a couple of moments, it felt like the world stopped moving. You could feel the air in your lungs start to sting. Maybe it was time to resurface.

You mentally clocked all of the seconds you could spend underwater without passing out.

But when Luke smiled, all of your thoughts went muddy. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up.

You gasped for air, feeling the sharpness. It quickened when you realized Luke’s shirt cling to his body.

Look away look away look away look away.

A hint of rose rushed to your cheeks. You cursed yourself for thinking anything different.

After you two had burned every ounce of energy you had, you found yourself laying on the deck, eyes closed.

You could hear Luke breathe as his chest fell up and down.

The sun started to set in the distance, and the buzz of grasshoppers with Luke laying next to you is all you needed.

It’s all you ever wanted.

Almost as if he read your mind, Luke mumbled “I could lay here for hours.”

You hummed in response, simply glad he appreciated the sentiment as much as you did.

Something tickled your cheek with its moisture. You opened your eyes to find small snowflakes falling from the clouds. Snow, specifically snow at Camp Half Blood was rare.

It was weird, but it was fucking beautiful.

It crossed your mind that maybe it was Zeus’s doing, a little reward. You were reminded that even though the Gods had failed you time after time, there were small moments where none of it seemed to matter.

Like laying next to the boy who pulled at your heart strings when snow fell.

You glanced at Luke and caught a glimpse of his smile. The way his lips tugged at each other, you knew he felt the exact same way. It was provoking the way you both knew the ins and outs of one another.

In the back of your mind, you knew the snow wouldn’t last long as it was the start of summer. But oh how you enjoyed it so.

As some would say, nothing lasts forever.

———————————————————————

Authors note: I definitely meant to put this out sooner however I have been booked and busy! Now that it’s summer, I should definitely have more time to write because I love writing this stuff. Lemme know if you guys want more pieces in time of Luke and reader! Also if you have any requests or recommendations send them in!!!!

-Bee

[n30n-le0n]

“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”

"Leo, you gotta stop--"

"Stop saying--agh--"

Leo hunkered in on himself as the bolt of pain went through his shell at the sudden movement, gritting his teeth around a pained hiss as his entire body seized up. Why did it hurt so much, why did it feel like every single nerve in his body was on fire, how badly was his shell even cracked? He'd only woken up a few days ago--and he was still reeling from the knowledge that he'd apparently been asleep for months, that he'd missed out on a huge chunk of his life--but surely his injuries couldn't be that bad. Donnie was carefully dancing around the subject nearly every time he asked, his eyes flitting around like a nervous hummingbird to land anywhere but on his twin's gaze in turn, but....they couldn't be that bad. Right? He couldn't have--

He couldn't have.....fucked himself up irreparably when he had been trying to fix everything. Right?

"Leo, just stop movin' around, alright? Yer gonna make it worse an' then Donnie's gonna get on my ass-"

"Ooooh. Raph said a no-no word." He tried for a lop-sided smile, though he was almost certain it came across as more of a pained grimace than anything.

"Oh, shut it, will ya," Raph snapped half-heartedly, reaching over to gently push at Leo, and even though it was a friendly gesture, he knew it was, Leo still froze, his breath rattling in his throat as his brain conjured up the images--

Raph pushing him away before the flesh over his eye bubbled, before the pink growth spread across his shell and arm, and then he looked over at them and his eyes were a sickly yellow and pink instead of the warm brown that Leo was used to--

Raph coming after him like a bat out of hell, and it was all he could do to keep doing defensive moves just to keep him away, his katanas vibrating like they were going to shatter under the force with every blow, realizing with a sickening feeling that his older brother had been holding back every single time they sparred--

Being lifted by that tentacle, looking into Raph's eyes and seeing only blind, murderous hatred where there had once been love and care and understanding, and those hands that had only ever been used to hold him close, to shelter him from the world, to soothe his hurts, those hands were now rearing back to stab and maim and kill, and all that he could think of was that he deserved this, he deserved whatever Raph was about to do to him, he should have just told Raph that he didn't mean to annoy him so much before it was too late, and now Raph was going to kill him--

And he flinched away, arms instinctively going up to protect himself--

And then Raph looked at him like a kicked puppy, expression turning into something heartbreakingly vulnerable, and Leo realized what he'd done with a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt.

Raph would never, ever willingly hurt any of them. Leo knew that, he knew that, he knew that the only reason Raph had even been taken and Krangified in the first place was because he had been trying to keep them all safe, but the knowledge had made his heart leap into his throat and made him just react without thinking anyway, and now Raph was going to think it was his fault, and things would just be even more fucked up than they already were--

He started babbling before he was even aware he was doing it, voice choked. "Raph--Raph, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know you wouldn't hurt me, it's not your fault, I just reacted, I'm sorry, I know it wasn't you, I know, I know you'd never hurt me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't be mad please don't hate me--"

An arm gently reached out to touch his shoulder, feather-light, like its owner was worried about how it would be perceived, and that just made him sob even harder even as Raph spoke up softly. "Leo. Hey, lookit me. Why d'you think I hate you?"

"B-because I messed up!" he wailed, the tears not being able to stop now. "I w-was a little shit and I didn't--you got hurt because of me--a-and I didn't tell you--and now you think it's your fault--and I almost--and--and I didn't act like a hero, I didn't act like a leader, you should be mad at me, I messed everything up, that's all I ever do, I should've just told you I didn't wanna be the leader and I just made you mad at me and I'm sorry--"

"Oh, Lee. Raph's not mad. I was never mad, okay? We both should've been better, I--I'm just sorry I made you feel like you couldn't.....couldn't talk t' me. I'm sorry I just assumed stuff 'stead of talking it out, an' I'm sorry that.....if I hadn't gotten taken you'd be fine, I'd still do it all again but I should've--I should've been better, I--"

"No, n-no, it's not your fault, I'm the one who--AAGH--" Moving towards Raph made another bolt of pain go up his spine, made him curl into himself again, and before he knew what was happening he was writhing and tears were leaking from his eyes and then Raph was scooping him gently into an embrace, surrounding him with that old familiar warmth.

"Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You're okay. Raph's got ya."

Leo let out another silent wail then, burying his snout into Raph's arms even as the comforting rumble started sounding from deep within his brother's chest. "R-raphie.....it h-hurts, Raphie--"

"I know. I know it does, I know. I'm so, so sorry, Lee. For everythin'. If I coulda kept this from happenin'--I didn' want any of you to get hurt. I didn' want this to get so bad."

"....h-how bad is it. Donnie w-won't tell me--"

"We kinda had to.....staple your shell back together, a couple places. It's.....it'll heal, it just. 'S gonna take a while." Even with his snout pressed into Raph's arm, Leo could somehow feel the guilt and shame rolling off of his oldest brother as a snout was gently laid onto his head. "Don said that yer.....kinda lucky t' not be paralyzed right now, t' be honest."

Leo's breath rattled in his chest at that, his heart stuttering in its rhythm for a few moments before he was able to get it back under control again. To think that he'd been that close to permanently fucking himself up, all in the name of trying to fix things, of trying to make up for this colossal fuck-up that he'd found himself at the center of....that was a fact that was surely going to haunt him for the rest of the days, and judging by the way his entire frame was vibrating as he huddled into Raph's touch, it was already taking a toll on his mental state. Even though his tongue felt like molasses in that moment, he forced himself to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat and speak anyway, wanting so desperately to hear Raph's reassurance in that moment. "B-but it'll g-get better. Right? We can fix it?"

A pause. And then Raph nuzzled the top of his head gently, exhaling softly. "Yeah. We'll fix it. No matter what, okay? I've got ya."

Leo couldn't quite bring himself to believe that. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe that his brothers weren't furious with him for screwing up so badly, or that he hadn't irreparably damaged his relationship with Raph somehow, or even that he'd ever get out of this fucking hospital bed and get back to some semblance of a normal life. He'd suddenly been burdened with the knowledge that the mortality of his entire family hung by nothing but a gossamer thread even at the best of times, that even the tiniest decision could spell doom for them all, and he didn't quite know how to handle finding himself hanging over that new and terrifying precipice.

But at least Raph's hugs still felt the same. At least all of that seemed a little further away, now that his big brother was holding him close again.

And he would just have to be content with that much.

[galaxyedging]

HAPPY NEW YEAR, Liv!!!!!

I just wanted to stop by and bring you some cheer and a new year of smut!! Lol. Enjoy!

I was just thinking that this gave me dirty thoughts/idea of being on your knees and to conceal you, he wraps the fur coat over you. I was getting Dieter vibes here...but Rockstar Joel would also be good too.

Happy New Year Heather! I wholly approve of these smutty thoughts. You are so right.

I knew this would rattle something loose from my brain. I wasn't expecting this to come out.

Rockstar!Joel x f!reader.

Warnings: Smut. Angst. My attempt at song writing. I'm sorry.

Monkey's Paw

Becoming successful in later life has its perks. Having experience of the world made navigating fame a little easier. The years of hard work and yearning made it easier to keep your eyes on the prize and get what you want. It helped to steer clear of temptations and pitfalls that more naive people would fall for. On the flipside being so focused on one goal can allow life to slip you by. 

Watching your nimble fingers ghost over his guitar strings, Joel thought about everything he'd let fall by the wayside in his pursuit for success. Joel's fingers move on memory as if they are playing a well practised song as they dance up your bare arm. 

“Joel! We can't. Not here.” There's zero conviction in your scolding with Joel's warm hands smoothing over your stomach to pull you close. 

The soft, plush fur of his coat pushing into you provides a stark contrast to the hardness of his cock pressing the fly on his well fitted jeans into your ass. 

His lips are dry from being under the harsh spotlights as they skim the skin of your neck before he nibbles on your earlobe. The tug of his teeth sends a shiver of lust to your core. The door is firmly locked behind you. Joel has too many rabid fans to leave it open. Still you'd feel too exposed to do anything here. Joel had been watching your face in the mirror in front of you. He knows you so well he can read your expression with ease.

As his hands move to the fly of your skin tight jeans he drawls against your jaw. “Don't worry, Darlin’. I'll keep you hidden.”

While one hand slips into your flooded panties, the other wraps his coat around the two of you. Keeping your sinful activities, quite literally, under wraps. Calloused fingers trace tight circles on your swollen bud until you come for him. 

His hand holding his coat moves to keep your moans between the two of you. The sight in the mirror makes Joel's cock twitch. You with your head thrown back on his shoulder, his hand covering your mouth and the other down the front of your jeans cupping your still pulsing cunt.

The weakness in your knees works in your favour as you push Joel back to fall to them. Unusually Joel loves to watch those pretty eyes, lust blown and half lidded looking up at him as you take his cock in your mouth. Tonight guilt tugs at him so he tugs his coat around the two of you. Keeping the moment for just the two of you. The heavy fur heating his skin is nothing compared to the heat of your mouth taking his length. You lick and suck away happily humming at every groan you pull from him. Through the haze his impending orgams brings to his mind Joel thinks about how lucky he is to have you as his manager. He wouldn't be where he is now without you. He thinks he's even luckier to feel what it's like to be completely in love with someone. With that thought on his mind he bites his full lip to keep in your name and spills his load down your throat. 

Taking a moment to bask in the afterglow, you don't hurry as you pull each other's clothes back into place while you exchange kisses. Even a knock on the door doesn't hurry you. After the third louder knock, Joel gives you one final kiss before opening it.

“Joel! What, are you getting your dick wet….Mrs Miller! Sorry I didn't mean to imply….I thought Joel was otherwise occupied.” Joel's new assistant practically shakes in his thick soled boots as he sees you there.

“Thank you, Carl. We were just discussing tonight’s performance.” Carl visibly relaxes a little at your calm voice.

“I think Joel was amazing.” The younger man offers, sounding just a little starstruck. “Oh, your husband's here to pick you up.”

“Thank you, Carl. I'll see you tomorrow Joel.” You give Joel a tight smile.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow. Say ‘hey’ to Tommy for me. Tell him to drive you home safely.” Joel casually responds.

Once you and Carl are out of sight Joel shuts his dressing room door. Flopping down on his sofa he picks up his notepad and pen. 

Regret weighs heavy inside me.

Your gentle touch is heavier still.

It weighs down and brands me.

I'll never get my fill.

How did the bright lights blind me so?

How did I not see what was in front of me?

The spotlight dimmed the glow of your halo.

Their lure, so bright that I could not see.

I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

My wish was granted but I wanted more. 

You gave me almost everything. 

Oh, I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

A dream fulfilled with a twisted core.

You, to me, are everything.

I think about what we gave up, for me to chase my hollow gilded prize.

They'd be grown now.

Who's smile would they have?

Would they have your beautiful eyes?

The only thing that keeps me sane is that I know he treats you right, and now our stolen touches in the night.

I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

My wish was granted but I wanted more. 

You gave me almost everything. 

Oh, I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

A dream fulfilled with a twisted core.

I already had everything,

Without that crooked monkey's paw.

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 15: Braven, Second Time

I am really tired, so tired I legit fell asleep on my couch for a short period of time, but nevertheless I had the desire to write some more of the loftverse before bed. I don't even know. Like, yes, if I was going to write it probably should have been on Troped but... I don't have the brain for that. I just don't. I also haven't done anything else in a while and I think I need some variety.

This does not take place IN the loft but it's part of the same universe.

Braven, ~900 words, written in about 30-35 minutes, warnings for just a little bit of explicit content

Previous installments on the tag "loftverse"

*

The second time they sleep together, Raven tells him, "You're a romantic, aren't you?" out of nowhere into a slow-widening gray well of silence, and he almost has to laugh. She's sitting on top of him, and he'd been staring up at her tits, and the shape of her collar bone and the flow of her hair over her shoulders and her silhouette in the dreary winter gloom. But mostly her tits.

"What?" she asks, biting back a smile that's only an answer to his smile, pushing a confused half-bubble of laughter down. Slowly it softens. She touches his nose, the tip of her finger lingering there, then sliding down to bump against his lips. "I've figured that out about you," she says.

The first time was a one-off, the sort of thing good friends just don't discuss, but it opened the door to something that might become habit. He learned what she looked like naked because she brought him to her bedroom once and took her shirt off without warning--impatient as always, skipping over what she did not know how to do by using short cuts and fast tracks--knew the part of his brain that would say bad idea bad idea would be drowned out and shunted aside. And she was right. That was back in the fall after her boyfriend got caught cheating. Seems a lifetime ago now but she's not yet told him if she's over it, if she ever will be.

This one is on him. It's different in ways he can start to name, can't quite pin down. Maybe just that he didn't initiate by immediately stripping.

She'd come over early with this idea they'd go out to breakfast but the temperature had fallen overnight, the sky clouding up and dropping and that heavy, expectant hush in the air, like a storm gathering itself, so they'd stayed inside and eaten the rest of his cereal, then played video games on his couch. The whistle of the wind and the rattle of his windows in the blow and gust of it sounded of winter. He yawned, for real, stretched up his arm and let it rest around her shoulders.

She looked at him like, am I dumb? Do you think I don't notice it?

He gave her a smile that other women would find charming.

But she slid in against his side as she beat his ass six out of ten, threw the controller on the coffee table after and then just turned her face so her nose was crushed in against his t-shirt. He squeezed her arm, gathered her up close and listened to her inhale, and on the rattling long exhale, he slid his hand beneath her shirt.

None of it meant anything except that he was horny and cold and he knew if Raven minded, she'd just shove him away. Tell him to get over himself and shut up.

Now she's talking about romance and he's thinking about her tits, and wondering if she always takes her hair down to fuck.

The question (you're a romantic, aren't you?) is idle and content and hazy with sex, the bedroom small and square and the hour uncertain. His bed, a queen that he doesn't really need, came with the place and barely fits in the room. Around it is a thin border of floor, around and beneath it wall to wall carpet in an ugly gray-green color that always looks dirty, even when it's not. He's been planning to move out of the place for over a year now but hasn't found anything better, and because it was only supposed to be temporary, he never really decorated much: just a single framed painting on the bare white walls, a gift, which he's hung up over the dresser in the corner of the room.

He has two windows, though. That's the best feature of the place: the natural light. Right now they have the overhead light on and the floor lamp by the bed too, because the late afternoon light is the gray-white tone of a storm that just won't break, hazed out and cold. Occasional thin wisps of snow slant by, sometimes. Nothing that will stick; nothing that will stay.

Bellamy can see the snow, and the wintry light just on the verge of tipping into twilight, through the window just behind Raven, the window she's half-framed in. His palms are sliding up and down her legs, steady and warm, and his feet are still tangled up in the sheets of his unmade bed. He's thinking about Raven awash in his sheets and how she'd look if he flipped her right over and landed her on his pillows, and how he'll probably do just that, when he actually wants to come.

For now she's barely moving, only riding him slowly. As she watches him, the smile fades from her face, and she tilts her head and traces the curve of his cheekbone, wafts her fingertips across the freckles over his nose.

"Romantic?" he asks. He means himself, what she'd said, but for a moment she frowns down at him, confused.

Then: "You want a nice girl who will take you home to her parents," she explains, slow and quiet.

He squeezes her leg, feels the strong muscles there, the softness of her skin.

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugs. He wonders if this is the last time, if he should be taking in every detail now, before he tips over an edge, before the storm breaks.

"It's just something," Raven says, "I see in you."

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

i've got brain rot for lovelock. wrote a lil thing that's been rattling around in my head

hee hee hoo hoo @get-rammed

Lovelock sighs, trekking down the long ass hallway. One of the Map Bots is literally holding people hostage, even if they already have maps, so it’s Lovelock’s job to go fix it. He finds the thing wandering around the prize counter, jumping into action when it sees him. It wheels over faster than Lovelock would like, grabs him by the arm (definitely way too tight), and shoves its face in his.

“Hi! Please take this map. Take a map.”

“Mm-hmm. Ok, buddy,” Lovelock says, wholly disinterested.

He pulls out his faz-wrench, promptly powering the thing down. He grabs it by the collar of its shirt, using its wheels to easily move it into one of the many dark corners of the arcade. Sure, he’s supposed to go into the maintenance corridor, but the place creeps him out, and it’s way too crowded to work in peace. He parks the Map Bot, locking its wheels, and flips open the tiny step stool he carries with him. It’s a pain to do all of his work standing, and the thing is barely even a pound, so it remains one of the best purchases of his adult life.

Taking a seat, Lovelock takes out his bun and ties up the rest of his hair to keep it out of his face. He leans in, inspecting the wire connections on the bot’s back (he’s always thought it was weird and a little stupid that Map Bots have free-hanging wires). The area isn’t too bad; no major damage that might’ve come from a kid pulling at the wires, but it’s not perfect by any means. It’s probably not the source of the malfunction. He’s guessing something is the eyes are off and not letting the bots see maps, but it’ll save Lovelock a run in the future, so he might as well do that first.

Lovelock slowly sinks into his work, letting himself run on autopilot. He’s fixed up these things so many times it’s basically second nature. Humming to himself, he opens maintenance panels and fixes small sections of exposed wire.

“What are you doing?”

The little voice scares Lovelock, making him jump. He looks over and sees a little girl, decked out in Fazbear merch, with blond, curly hair. She’s got a face full of freckles, just like him, with a missing front tooth. She has a big smile on her face, eagerly awaiting Lovelock’s response.

“Oh, um,” he starts, glancing back at the bot, trying to find the best way to explain robotic maintenance to a child. He’s helped plenty of kids in the past– lost kids, hurt kids, kids scared by the animatronics, but he’s never had one come up to him and ask him what he’s doing. “The, uh, S.T.A.F.F Bots work really hard all the time, so sometimes, they can get a little… sick. So, I’m fixing up a sick robot.”

The little girl gasps, bouncing on her feet. “So you’re, like, a robot doctor?”

A soft smile spreads across Lovelock’s face, pulling slightly at his cheeks. He doesn’t particularly like kids, but sometimes they say the cutest shit. “Yeah, ha, I’m a robot doctor.”

The girl chats at Lovelock while he works, which he actually doesn’t mind. The little girl thinks it’s very cool that he’s a robot doctor, so that must also mean he’s very cool. By the time she’s finished her little tangent, Lovelock has finished up with the back of the Map Bot. He looks over to the girl, smiling and gently shushing her.

“I gotta keep fixing the robot, but I have to take off the face plate, which might be a little scary.” He smiles. “If you’ll get freaked out, here’s your free pass to leave.”

“No way!” The girl pouts. “I’m big! I can handle scary!”

“Ok, then,” Lovelock chuckles.

He stands up, pushing his step stool back with his foot. He unlocks the wheels of the Map Bot, turning it around with practiced ease. He locks the wheels again just as easily, not even looking when he hits the tiny lever with his foot. He pockets his faz-wrench, reaching for the two tiny buttons on the underside of the Map Bot’s jaw. The lower half of the face plate pops off with a slight hiss. The girl jumps in the corner of Lovelock’s eye, so he takes his time lifting the faceplate, watching the girl subtly. He removes the faceplate, finally, and turns to the girl with it in his hand. He makes jazz hands toward the exposed face, which makes the girl laugh.

“Eww, that’s so gross!” She laughs.

“Just wait; I have to take out the eyes next. Wanna watch?”

“Ew! No!” The girl laughs and runs off, presumably back to her parents, stopping midway to turn around and wave at Lovelock. He waves back.

He goes back to his work, popping out an eye, and whaddya know he was right. It’s an easy fix with the faz-wrench, which he gets done in minutes (compared to the like, ten he spent with the girl), and he resets the bot for good measure. He wheels the bot back to the prize counter, turning it back on and seeing how it does. The bot takes a few seconds to activate properly, but as soon as it has, it wheels up to a guest, politely offers them a map, and happily wheels away when the guests take it. Nice.

Soon enough, it gets close to closing, and all of the handers are wrapping up in the locker room. One of Lovelock’s coworkers, Clara, bumps him on the shoulder, catching his attention.

“You’re in a good mood today,” she remarks.

“Oh! Uh,” Lovelock scratches his cheek. “A little girl called me a robot doctor today.”

“What? That’s so cute!” Clara claps her hands together.

“Right?” He smiles, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, drive safe, Clara; see you tomorrow.”

“Drive safe!” His coworker calls.

Lovelock can’t get the little girl out of his head for the entire drive home. He thinks he’ll wear ‘robot doctor’ as a badge of honor for the rest of his life. He’d scribble it onto his nametag if he had the space. It’s the little things that keep this job bearable, so he’ll take every moment he can get.

[wewritetofeelwholeagain]

“Come on bruh, it's gonna be fine,”Quentin repeated for the fourth time,”You ain't been out in three years and it's time for you to get ya ass off the couch.” He stood overtop the disheveled form of his best friend, Isaiah. He sat shoulders hunched underneath a blanket much too big for him, a controller in his hand. The light of the TV reflected over his glazed eyes as he continued to play in silence. His black tee was covered in crumbs of the takeout next to him, his locs a matted mess.

It was true, it had been three years since Q had gotten the text that Isaiah’s girl dumped him. Without a spot to stay, he opened up his couch to his homie. Why wouldn't he? They had been together through thick and thin ever since high school. Shared all sorts of ups and downs like real ones do. He gave Isaiah all the space he needed, only offering the best assistance he could. But after the second year of trying to convince his friend to step out with him as two dashing bachelors, Quentin had enough. He was going to get that nigga outside.

Taking in a deep breath, Quentin went behind the TV and ripped the cords from the outlet. Isaiah froze; his eyes seeming to come back to life as the realization of what just happened connected to his disassociating brain. He shot up, spilling crumbs all over the carpet. “Ayo” He shouted,”The fuck is wrong witchu?! I was in my fucking zone and you goin fuck it up? That's messed up and-”

The smack echoed around the silent living room. Both of them held their eyes in shock as Isaiah turned his head back to face Quentin. The silence continued, echoing out. One…Two…Three…Four…Fi- It was chopped before the fifth beat by them laughing, loud and from the bottom of their stomachs. Quentin grabbed the wall, beating on it before sliding down it. Isaiah mimicked him, falling back on the couch before sliding onto the floor.

As the laughter subsided and they both laid on the floor catching their breath, they grinned at each other. It was something they had done only ever a few times: Slap one another and laugh it off, getting rid of the beef between each other quickly. They got up slowly, still in a mixture of pants and giggles whenever their eyes made contact. Isaiah finally caught his breath and sighed,”Aight bro. Lemme make the appointment and we can go out.”

The heavy thumps of bass against the walls of the club could be heard as the duo walked towards it. Quentin was dressed in a blue Hawaiian styled shirt half buttoned to show off his toned physique vaguely hidden by a white tank top. His legs were covered by black ripped jeans and fresh black and red midtop kicks. His from was plucked out, bouncing slightly with each step. Isaiah was dressed similar, his shirt white and the tank top grey. He went for blue bleached jeans and black and red chucks. His freshly done black and red locs went down to his mid back, gold and silver clips scattered among them.

“This is it bruh,”Q said with a grin as he tapped Isaiah's chest,”Eternal Night is really how it be when you in there. You can forget ya worries for a bit, maybe find a girl to take back to the crib.” His grin grew bigger when Isaiah cracked one himself, the confidence in him glowing from his honey brown complexion. “Yeah yeah whatever you say man. Let's just get in here first, aight?” The grins turned into wide smiles as they dapped each other up before getting in line.

Once they got inside, the music was just as loud as they expected. Walking past the towered speakers near the door, they felt the bass rattle them to their cores. Deep House reverberated from all around as they turned the corner, spotting the strobe lights dancing around the club. They went into the large room that consisted of the dance floor.

Bodies covered the dance floor as people grooved, bobbing their heads along with the beat. On the far wall they could see the bar, one of three as two smaller booths were set up on the eastern and western wall. Along the walls were four booths, one with a big “RESERVED” sign in bold letters. Quentin immediately took lead, taking them to the booth with the sign, waving to the host.

They were tall, even in the black high heels they were wearing. Their hair was up in a loc bun, white tips poking in and out of the black coils. They were a shape forming black dress that accented their curves and complemented their brown complexion. With eyes the color of light brown, they waved back to Quentin and Isaiah. “Hi Q! It's good to see you again,”They greeted. “Yeah it's been a minute! You know I was gonna come back and show love. Had to bring my boy Isaiah out here with me too.” As he said this, he motioned Isaiah closer, who smiled sheepishly. “Isaiah,” The host repeated,”I'm Deliah, but please don't think I'm delicate.” “I wouldn't dare,”He said as he checked them out, noticing just how long their legs were. How full they are. Wondering just how good it must feel to-

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized she was staring at him. He glanced at Quentin only to see him grinning, shaking his head. “Bro come on,”He teased,”I know I said I was gonna introduce you to some baddies but damn. You really needed to get out.” Isaiah shoots him a look and shrugged. “My fault Deliah. You just look good, that's all.” Deliah gave him a wide smile and shook their head. “It's cool - tells me I'm doing my thing tonight. I'll go get the bottles and y'all enjoy yourselves. I'll be back to check up on ya.” Deliah turned and made their way to the bar, Isaiah's eyes falling right on the heart shape curves of their ass.

Biting his lip, Isaiah turned back to Quentin and climbed into the booth. It was built into the wall, a large black table that could spin if you turned the edge. Black faux leather cushions made a semi circle around the table with two menu placards displayed in the center of the table. The two sat for a moment, eyeing the crowd for vibes and a few fine folks too. They exchanged glances with a couple of people, but Isaiah’s kept returning back to where he last saw Deliah. He scanned the bar, half searching, half watching. He did this every few seconds before dropping his gaze away, trying to remove any unwanted glances back. When he moved to look again, he found her eyes watching him too.

There was static in the contest between the two, something that he hoped that she was picking up on at least. “Yo,”Isaiah shouted,”I'm getting in the floor.” Quentin nodded and sat back, waving and motioning for a few folks to come over to the booth. As the small space started to cramp, Isaiah moved across the dance floor.

The music pumped through his ears and to his chest as he moved on instinct. Gliding across the floor while moving through the crowd with the beat of the music, it wasn't long until he stood next to Deliah, a smile plastered on his face. “You was taking a minute,”He explained smoothly,”I wanted to make sure you was good.” “And didn't I say not treat me like I'm delicate,”Deliah teased back with a smile,”I ain't need no help. I'm just waiting for the ice.” “Then I'll wait too,”He responded with a shrug,”If that's fine.” They smiled bigger and nodded, tapping their nails against the bar counter. As they stood there together, they couldn't help but notice a bit more about each other. Deliah stood over him, casting their eyes down at him while he gazed right back.

“So you've known Q a while?” She asked as the best of the music shifted. He nodded in response, leaning against the counter. “We met freshman year of high school in art. Bro been the homie ever since. He been keeping me up for a bit. The whole reason I'm here tonight.” He gave Deliah a glance and felt his face get hot when he realized they were paying him attention 100%. His throat felt dry and he couldn't help but awkwardly laugh, feeling embarrassed. “How'd you two meet? Can't say he's ever talked about you,”He added in to avoid any silence. “He used to come here every night,”They answered,”Open till close cutting it up on the dance floor. I saw him one night and gave him a offer as a promoter and we been tight ever since. He stopped for a lil bit, mentioning having to help out a friend. Now that I'm looking, I'm not sure what you need help with. You seem fine all by yourself.” Isaiah couldn't help but blush now, his entire face hot and bright pink. “Thank you, thank you. I was in a bad spot and he’s been a real one. Even when I ain't wanna listen to him. I think I'm better now though.” “Good,”They smiled as they dragged a bucket of ice towards him,”Then you can carry this for me.” Isaiah laugh was lost in the music as he lifted the bucket and followed behind her, being careful not to spill too much.

They went around the dance floor, doing their best to avoid bumping into whoever decided to hang out close to the wall. When they got back to the booth, it was packed. Two beautiful women sat to Quentin’s left while three handsome men sat to his right. In his lap was a person dressed in a flashy pink dress, their shoes clutched in their hands as they laughed at his joke. Quentin gave a nod to which Isaiah responded,”I was wondering where you went bro. Come here, meet the ladies and gentlemen-” “And enby,” Shouted the person in the pink dress,”Don't forget us!” Everyone around cheered, Quentin reached to grab the bottle of whiskey. “Come on y'all, shot time!” Everyone quickly grabbed a glass, Quentin pouring out one for everyone and two for himself. “To tonight,”He shouted over the music,”Wherever the fuck it takes us!” With a scattering of glasses drinking and cheers, everyone down the liquid, grunting or coughing as it went down their throats. Isaiah licked his lips as he put his glass down, closing his eyes as the alcohol hit his system.

When he felt a pull on his shirt, he turned around to Deliah, motioning their head back towards the floor. He grinned and only nodded as he followed behind them with their hands barely holding onto one another. He kept his gaze on their back, bouncing his head with the music. Watching as they began to twist their hips, he smiled and found himself moving with Deliah, keeping a comfortable distance as they got comfortable on the floor.

The way Deliah moved was hypnotizing. Swaying their hips, they moved in a small circle around Isaiah, sharing smiles as their eyes locked with each other. They came to a stop in front of him, putting their arms around his shoulders. He followed suit, putting a hand on their waist. They bounced in unison, letting the music speak for them. As their bodies drew closer, the bass picked up, reverberating around them.

Isaiah kept his gave on Deliah’s eyes only for them to fall down to their lips. The full color of their brown lips called out to him, followed by the smell of the whiskey. He swallowed, fighting back his urge to find out how good they must taste. Looking back up at their eyes, there was an intensity he hadn't noticed before. He twisted his lips into a half smile, feeling himself get lost in the music.

Just as the first track ended and the second began, they kissed. Deliah pressing themselves to him, Isaiah responding in kind as he pulled them closer. They parted their lips slow, Deliah tracing the outline of Isaiah's lips. He responded, opening his lips to taste their tongue as they wrestled for dominance in this moment. He could taste the whiskey fully along with the subtle hint of mint; guessing they may have had chewing gum before he arrived. They moved their hands, placing them on his wrists and guiding them from their waist lower. He smiled internally, giving their butt a squeeze as they continued to kiss.

He pulled back, catching his breath and staring at Deliah who smiled. They said nothing as they turned around, pressing their body against Isaiah in an effort to tease him. He bit his lip and rolled his eyes, trying to keep his stature. Placing his hands on Deliah’s thighs, he kept their bodies closed as they continued to bump and grind on the dance floor. The intensity exchanged between them was felt as they caught the eyes of others on the dance floor watching them, half smiles and looks of astonishment on their faces. Isaiah let out a laugh that was drowned by the music, letting his hands explore Deliah’s body. Roaming away from their thighs, he went up to their chest, gliding over the curve of their breasts and reaching their shoulders. A hand teased around their throat, squeezing on the sides before letting out, to the surprise of them both. Deliah shot him a pouting glance of their shoulder, he responded back with a small shrug.

Deliah turned back around, leaning down to speak only loud enough for him to hear. “I told you I'm not delicate…shit like that turns me on. Keep me entertained Isaiah. I just might let you have some tonight.” Pulling back from him to look at his grinning face, they started grinding against him harder on the floor, moving their hips in a way that Isaiah couldn't help but grab hold of them. He moved his own hips forward, rocking side to side as they both got into synch with one another.

The bass was almost numbing as they moved from the floor, fingers interlocked. Deliah led him outside, phone in hand as they called for an Uber. Isaiah watched them, looking back at the doors of the club. He could see the glowing strobe lights flash colors from the windows, letting out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding in. His stress and worries melted away as he exhaled, throwing his head back to shake the locs from his face. As the Uber pulled up, Deliah stepped to the door and opened it. They turned back to him, cocking an eyebrow. “You getting in? I gotta know if what you showed me on the floor really mean what I think it means.” Isaiah gave one final look back to the club before walking to the Uber, grinning. “Yeah,” He replied smoothly, ”I'll show you that and a lil bit more if you're good.” “Boy please, ”They scoffed with a shake of their head, climbing into the Uber. Isaiah chuckled and climbed in after them, closing the door.

[mxgalodon]

🐛

My Dreams? Don't Say I Didn't Warn You... [Accepting] An intense nightmare that made them wake up in a cold sweat

“Scarr!”

The rickety metal walls of the Nitro Drome rattled as I shouted in triumph, running up to her. Her ears flicked in response, then flattened against her head as I grabbed her arm and forced her to turn to me.

“Where have you been? What are you doing here?”

“Calm down.”

“You do not get to tell me to calm down.”

Scarr attempted to back away from me, “I’m fine, Megalo Don.”

“Do not walk away from me,” I roared, pulling her closer, tightening my grip around her arm. “Answer my question. Now.”

“I said I’m fine. Everything is fine. Now, let go of me!”

“Everything is decidedly not fine. Did you forget what’s happening in this god-forsaken island right now? Half of my people – our people –are mind-controlled, Scarr. Now is not the time for your childish, reckless antics!”

“What’s your problem? I just said everything is fine. I’m perfectly safe here.”

I growled, anger surging through my body as her willful ignorance grated against my patience. She should know better. She should know better! She was reckless, not stupid! What was wrong with her? What was she doing?

“You’re speaking utter nonsense. This island isn’t ours anymore. Even I acknowledge that, Scarr.”

“You’re the only one who says that, Megalo Don. You and those ‘Underground’ and ‘Avengers’ people. You know, the ones who are fighting us?”

“They hardly fought us. They didn’t do shit to stop my pipeline. All they wanted was those stupid fucking gems.”

“You’re really vouching for them?”

“Of course I am! They’re the ones fighting Dr. Doom. They’re-”

“Why would you fight Dr. Doom?”

Taken aback by the statement, I loosened my grip on her arm. She yanked it away, stepping back and resting her hand on the handle of her axe.

“What are you saying, Scarr?”

“I don’t get why you’re fighting him. Everyone else agrees what he’s doing for the island is great. Like, the best thing to happen. Ever!”

A growl bubbled up in my throat as I stared wide-eyed at her. What was she saying? Why was she saying that? This wasn’t like her... she never kissed anyone’s ass like this.

Then again, I didn’t quite feel like myself, either. Maybe there was an explanation for this… it can’t be...?

“Come, Megalo Don. Just join us. Join him. You’ll get your Leviathan back!”

Scarr took a step towards me. My vision swimmed as I stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between us. This couldn’t be happening… this can’t, she wouldn’t…

He got her. He got her, didn’t he? He got her, even after how hard I tried…

I knew I shouldn’t have… but I thought she could handle herself. She could always handle herself, that’s why she was my fucking friend! She didn’t take shit from anyone! Not even me! No matter how much I could have insisted I protect her, she’d just tell me to fuck off. Call me a bitch, a coward. Tell me I’m overreacting. She’d say she didn’t need my protection, say I needed her’s if I was going to be so emotional about things.

A hand on my shoulder brought me back to attention, even if I felt… dizzy. Short on breath.

“It’s alright, Megalo Don. Just let him in.”

The fuzziness in my head was suddenly replaced by an uncomfortable pressure. It squeezed my ears, against the back of my eyes, the inside of my nose; like someone had grabbed ahold of my brain and was trying to pull it out of my skull. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t hear, couldn’t think – an uncomfortable silence enveloped me as a wave crashes over you and pulls you out to sea. Lost, I fumbled about in the dark, trying to grab onto anything of substance. Anything that could break this. I would not fall. I am not done.

Doom will have to pay for taking what is rightfully mine.

My palm burned as I grabbed ahold of something. It was familiar, comforting… the first thing that truly felt like home in what felt like forever.

Rage.

My roar rang off the walls like the walls of a bell, causing Scarr to step back in surprise. I swung the braiser in my hand at her, capitalizing on her surprise, and knocked her away. I charged, took a swing, connecting with her head, crumpling her helmet in on itself.

“GET OUT OF HER HEAD, MYSTERIO.”

Another swing, and she deflected, retaliated, connected. I took it. I clamped my jaws down on her arm, causing her to yelp, and took the free hit against the side of her skull. GET OUT OF HER HEAD. Swung again, she blocked. GET OUT OF HER HEAD. Swung again, she blocked. GET OUT OF HER HEAD. GET OUT OF HER HEAD. GET OUT OF HER HEAD. A flurry of powerful blows that she swiftly countered, but couldn’t find a time to strike back. As she was distracted, I raised my boot, kicking her in the chest hard enough to knock her down.

I dove on her, my maw still dripping with her blood, the drops splattering against her mask as she raised an arm to keep me off her. We tumbled, trading blows as I tried to get at her head. I needed to get him out. I needed to hit him out. I needed to beat him out. I needed to rip him from her skull, the parasite he was. Out. OUT.

THAT WAS MY FRIEND. MINE. HOW DARE HE!

HE. WILL. DIE.

A strike across my jaw shocked me, and before I knew it, she kicked me away, launching me across the platform. I tumbled, flailing to catch something, to stop myself from falling off the edge. With a bit of luck, I caught the ground with my knees, and stood back up, stumbling back before stopping just shy of the edge.

My luck ran out as I looked up to see a flash of pink and blue. Scarr flew through the air, grabbing my neck with both hands. I choked, wobbled; I didn't want to fall. I couldn't fall. I couldn't.

“Give it up, Meg. Everything is perfect without you. You’re not needed. You never were.”

With a blank and lifeless gaze, Scarr kneed me in the stomach, causing me to buckle over, and pushed me over the edge. As I plummeted to my death, all my anger and pain disappeared, fading to just a few words:

Scarr didn’t really mean that… right?