#i would have also given it chin/neck details but I cant be asked

[xxrat--punkxx]

tri-fin Legiana doodle??

[amerrierworld]

You’re Being Whiny

for the request: dom!debbie with a brat reader

Summary: You’ve been touch-starved, and Debbie barely seems to notice, so you try to get her attention.

Characters: Debbie Ocean x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,022

Warnings: SMUT. dom/sub elements. spanking, some degradation. rough!Debbie and then she softens a lil’

“Get dressed,” Debbie said, poking her head into the bedroom, where you were digging through your wardrobe. 

“What do I wear?” you asked, nearly hysterical in the stress of deciding on an outfit, but Debbie was already gone from the room. You frowned as you were left alone, again.

You had been left alone all day, in fact. Sure, you lived together, but Debbie had been so cooped up with some kind of job that you had barely even gotten a conversation out of her. Let alone had sex. 

She never let you in on the details of her job, because if she ever got caught, it be best if you weren’t involved, so you let her be. But Jesus, a little care and attention for you would be nice. You did your best to be there for her when she was so hyper fixated on other things, but all that’s been causing was extra stress on both your minds.

And today you had a big event to go to as a couple, but rather than excitement building up, Debbie had barely mentioned it until this morning. She was so taken by her work that you had ended up forgetting it entirely. And now you suddenly had to pick something to wear, and that stressed your already-grumpy mind out to no end.

You pursed your lips, feeling extra bratty today, wondering if you’d be able to make Debbie look at you just a little more, and grabbed a short crop top, and an even shorter denim skirt. Some ridiculous heels added on should do the trick. 

You stepped out to the main hallway where Debbie was reaching for her keys. Hair curled softly, makeup bold but sensual. She was wrapped in her thick, black coat, and her bare legs underneath suggested she was wearing a dress. You wondered which one, and were about to ask when she finally looked up at you and her eyes flashed something furious.

“You are not going out in that,” Debbie scoffed, raking her eyes over your form. 

“Why not?” you grumbled, looking down and tugging at the skirt, “isn’t it good enough for you?”

A hand grasped your wrist and the other your chin, forcing your eyes to meet hers.

“You’re being whiny, Y/N,” Debbie snapped, “you know better than to dress like that for a gala dinner. Go change, now.”

You pouted dramatically, tugging your hand away and crossing them over your barely-covered chest. You didn’t budge from your spot.

A slim eyebrow raised slowly at your defiance, and you found yourself getting nervous as Debbie calculated what to do next. You chewed your lip and hoped she’d lay you over her lap, or maybe take out the restraints that had been laying unused in your drawers for far too long.

“Fine,” she said sternly, turning around, heels clicking on the floor. “You can stay home then.”

Wait. No. That wasn’t what you wanted. The gala was a big one, one that you had been looking forward to. You only wanted to have Debbie give you a bit more attention, because you needed it. 

“No!” you replied, clenching your fists by your sides. Oh, you really were whining now. 

Debbie halted, slowly, and turned back. Her hand undid the buckle of her coat and shrugged it off, revealing a backless burgundy dress that shimmered as she  walked. It was one of your personal favourite looks on her. 

She undid her heels, taking her sweet time. You glanced at the nearest clock, hoping this wouldn’t make you late. Debbie hated being late.

Once she was barefoot, she neared you and set her hands on her hips.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she demanded, her tone chilly, “why are you being such a brat all of a sudden?”

“I’m not being a brat,” you protested, grumbling, “you just don’t like my outfit.”

Debbie’s lips pursed into a firm line and she took a deep breath. There was a brief pause, and you didn’t dare break eye contact, wondering if it would also   break the sizzling electricity you felt in the air. 

“Is that all?” Debbie asked, nonchalantly. You nodded, shrugged, looked down, feeling smaller than you did a minute ago.

That clearly didn’t please your girlfriend, because a firm tug on your arm spun you around. You caught yourself, hands flat against the cold wall, and squeaked  in surprise as Debbie began pulling your skirt down.

“I clearly haven’t taught you anything about fashion if this is what you choose. Christ, Y/N, you went to the Met with us for crying out loud,” she growled. The denim skirt came off. You hadn’t bothered with underwear because the outfit had been for show, but it only managed to anger her more that you seemingly were planning to go commando. 

She slapped your ass without hesitation and you gasped, back arching, toes aching in the heels. A handful of spanks on your cheeks left your legs trembling, fingernails scrabbling against the wall. 

“I’ve been working, hard,” Debbie chastised, rubbing a firm palm over your reddened ass, “constantly. And what do you do, hm? Distract me every. Single. Time.”

Her hand struck you three times, sharply, and painfully. You bit into your lip and whined, loudly, ass raising involuntarily.

“Oh, sweetie, have I really been neglecting you that much?” she tutted, fingers running through your slick that was obviously sliding down your thighs. “You’re such a needy slut, little girl.”

“No!” you cried again, head down and eyes screwed shut. The spanking stopped. 

“No?”

Debbie turned you again, pressing your back flat against the wall. Her arms framed you, leaving no room to escape.

“You’re telling me that you’re not acting like a whore to distract me? Acting like an insolent brat?”

You shook your head, eyes stinging, barely making out the words, “w-wanted... a-attention.”

“Oh, so I haven’t been giving you enough attention?” Debbie replied, a mocking tone in her voice.

“You’ve been s-so... busy,” you whimpered, because Debbie’s hand was rubbing over your exposed middle, dipping down to your cunt but only lightly. “N-never get to see you.”

Debbie frowned, “I’m here every day, baby. I barely leave the house. What do you mean you never get to see me?”

Your hips rocked against her hand, and her thumb barely brushed your clit but the suddenness of it made you cry out, unabashedly.

“Never get that,” you sucked in a breath, “b-been so long since... since...”

Debbie rubbed a little firmer, and your voice reduced down to a collection of whimpers and breathy moans.

“I forgot how whiny you get when horny,” Debbie was grinning, you  barely could see it through your half-lidded eyes.

“N-not whiny,” you muttered, hips canting upwards. 

“Bedroom, little girl,” Debbie tutted, pulling away, “you’re talking back an awful lot today.”

You bit your lip to keep from protesting again, and went to the bedroom as she asked. There was still a pile of your clothes on the bed from where you couldn’t decide what to wear. 

“You’ve made a mess,” Debbie scolded, approaching you from behind and grabbing your hair with a firm tug.

“S-sorry..”

Warm lips sucked at your neck and your knees nearly buckled from the sensation. She quickly caught you before you were on the floor. Bliss coursed through your veins at the feeling of Debbie touching you, stroking you, and you barely noticed her taking off your top until her hands cupped your bare breasts. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing a few clothes out of the way and beckoning you closer.

The heels felt cumbersome now. She didn’t say you could take them off, so you didn’t. You towered over Debbie, but felt entirely under her control and the attention her eyes gave your body made you shiver. 

Then she leaned forward. A hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, and she pulled you to straddle her thigh. The dark fabric had ridden up so that your cunt was pressed against Debbie’s heated skin, and you choked out at the feeling, burying your face in her neck and the hair that sat there, smelling sweet and clean. 

You wanted to move, grind, fuck yourself against her thigh, but she hadn’t given you permission. Debbie took the time running her hands over your back, feeling your neglected skin, feeling your muscles spasm and tremble underneath her fingertips. She kneaded at your sore ass and chuckled darkly at the pained moan that escaped you.

“I could give you all the attention, right here, sweetheart,” she murmured in your ear, raking her nails over the abused skin, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, “but that's gonna make us late for the event. What do you think everyone is gonna assume when we show up late, and you’re covered in hickeys and bruises, hm?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment at the thought, and your hips rocked slightly, your clit on fire.

“So you better be on your best behaviour tonight, be a good girl, not be needy, and maybe I’ll let you have a go at pleasing me tonight, hm? Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you gasped, hands grabbing her shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Go on then, sweetie,” Debbie urged, “you can move. Show me how much you want it.”

She had just barely given you permission and you already started moving, rocking up and down her thigh, feeling the hard muscle tense underneath you as you chased your release. Her hands gripped your hipbones with bruising strength, helping you move, occasionally slapping your ass again, making pleasure spark in your core. 

“Such a good girl,” she grinned as you tossed your head back, “remind me who you belong to.”

“You..” you whimpered.

“And who do you obey?”

“You,” you repeated, feeling heated as her hands kneaded your ass again. A sharp smack drew a hard moan from you.

“And who never leaves her baby girl neglected, even when she's busy?”

“Y-you,” you were gasping, panting now, “I’m s-sorry.. I’m sorry, I’m sorry..”

“Hush,” she tutted, and her hand slipped down to press against your clit, “let it feel good, baby. I’m here.”

You came with a deep, guttural moan, body arching and spasming, toes digging into your heels as you rode out your orgasm on Debbie’s thigh. She rubbed your trembling thighs, soothingly, as you came back down to earth to her grinning at you with adoration in her eyes.

“I’m sorry for being distracting,” you managed to say between deep breaths. Debbie cupped your neck and pulled you in for a deep, loving kiss.

“No, I’m sorry for making you feel ignored,” she said, “I’ll do my best to not let it happen again. But perhaps you could just tell me next time? Rather than dressing like.. well, not like you were going to a luxury dinner event.”

You nodded, and then you paled a little at the realization that you had definitely made the both of you late for it.

“It’s.. the time..”

“It’s alright, we have time,” Debbie cooed, “we’re not supposed to be there until 8.”

Your mouth dropped open. It was barely 6:30. 

“You said it was at 7!” you spluttered.

“Because I knew you’d take forever to get ready,” Debbie grinned at your indignant expression. She rubbed at your cheek until your face softened again.

“Come on, I’ll help you get ready,” she urged you to get up. “Go take a shower. I’ll get your black jumpsuit out, that with those heels will look good, don’t you think?”

You nodded, blushing with happiness and content as Debbie began digging through your pile of clothes. Before you went to the bathroom you wrapped your arms around Debbie’s middle and kissed her neck.

“Love you,” you murmured, “won’t be long.”

Debbie laughed, turning and kissing you again, “I know you won’t. You’ll be sorry if you are.”

She pinched your ass teasingly and you squeaked, before she swallowed the sound with a hard kiss,

“Go on, otherwise we’ll never get out of this bedroom.”

A/N: Sandra Bullock really is just a work of art, isn’t she?

[twordytings]

When It Comes to You

(Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You get drunk at a party that Steve has no idea about. Somehow, Bucky is always there to keep your worries at bay.

Word Count: 1,582

A/N: okay this was actually a sentence starter prompt from an anon, but I’ve had this in my drafts for a while now so I just decided to incorporate that prompt into this. Hope this is okay!!

You probably should’ve thought this one over. Well, going to a high school party seemed like a good idea in the moment, but now you weren’t too sure. And right now, you were drunk; drunk would be putting it lightly, actually. You told Steve you were going to a friend’s house, which, technically, you did. You just didn’t say why for obvious reasons. Mentioning the kegs of beer that would be available didn’t seem like a very important detail to add.

In all fairness, you were pretty good for a sixteen year old. This was your first party and all you wanted to do was enjoy being young while it lasted, no matter the obstacle; that obstacle being Steve, of course. Steve was your older brother, your best friend, but he definitely had his downsides, one of them being his brutal overprotectiveness. He would die before he’d let you go to a party, let alone one with alcohol.

Once you had arrived, one drink led to another, even though it tasted absolutely horrible, and that was that; there was quite literally no going back. It felt as though your head was spinning in every direction possible. The friend you came with decided it was time to take you home, so they helped you up from wherever you were - you couldn’t remember - and you had both started to walk home. Driving wasn’t an option, since you were both unfortunately drunk, and by the time you got home, it was midnight; not necessarily the Cinderella story you had dreamed of when you were younger.

As you stumbled toward the front door, you clumsily found your house key to unlock the door, almost tripping as you stepped inside. You squinted to see a worried Steve and even more worried Bucky look up from their seats on the couch, only to get up and walk straight toward you. This was gonna be bad.

“Heyyyyyy guyyyysssss.” You smiled cheekily as you looked up at the two. To put it plainly, they weren’t smiling.

“Where have you been. It’s midnight, y/n.” Steve said with the most serious look on his face, but you not being in control of yourself, found it oddly funny.

“Hahaha! Lighten up.” You said as you brought your hands up to squeeze his cheeks into a smile. “There ya goooo Mr. Grumpyface.”

He pulled your hands from his face and looked at Bucky in disbelief.

“Are yo- are you drunk?!” Bucky asked.

“Whaaaat? Psh no way!” You said as you waved your hand away from your face to show how crazy that idea was. It wasn’t.

“How much?” Steve asked.

“Uhhhh maybe uhhhh one...... orrrr two....... actually maybe 4 I dunno. Not that much though that’s for sure.” Nailed it.

“Not that much? Do you know how worried I was? How worried we were? You lied to me y/n, and got wasted with god knows who... I- I cant believe you right now!”

You had royally screwed up this time. You were also way too drunk to comprehend half of what Steve was even saying, so you stood there looking practically brain dead.

“- are you even listening to me right now?” Not one bit, you thought to yourself as a stood in front of the two men.

Your blank gaze made Steve realize he was probably being a little too much right now, considering the condition you were in, so he let it go for the time being. He sighed, “Forget it, just go to bed.”

Bucky offered to help you upstairs, which you desperately needed since you couldn’t tell your left from your right at the moment. As he was walking you he quietly said, “Just so you know, I’m not mad at you.” You smiled at that, but you also felt a gurgling in your stomach that told you you needed a toilet immediately.

You sprinted to the closest bathroom you could find, and that’s when everything, like, everything came out. It honestly felt really good to throw up, but Bucky definitely wasn’t appealed. He winced but came quickly to hold you hair back. As you finished with the disaster that was now inside of the toilet, you felt a bit more like yourself. “Ugh. Gross.” You said as you flushed the toilet. You then went over to the sink to splash some water on your face and was met with a sudden feeling of regret. “What have I done. Steve is so mad at me.” You said as you threw your face into your palms. Bucky was unconsciously rubbing your back the entire time.

“Hey. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Just think of it as a learning lesson. I’m sure you were just trying to have fun... and then things happened to take their own course.” You nodded, but not understandably.

“No! That’s exactly where your wrong, Buck. I cant stand it when Steve is upset with me,” you huffed, placing your head back in your hands. You were just as disappointed with yourself as Steve was. There was a reason why you hadn’t done anything like this before: Steve taught you. The fact that what you had just done probably completely diminished any and all trust you had with him, was slowly beginning to creep over you. “He probably hates me now,” you uttered through your hands.

“Hey hey hey! Don’t say something like that!” Bucky scolded, holding you up a bit and walking you over to your bed to then sit down beside you. “Listen,” he said sharply, pulling you by your chin so you were looking at him, “the only reason why he acted the way he did was because he cares about you. Bug, he loves you more than anything... even more than me, and I’ve been his best friend since high school!” You furrowed your eyebrows at that; Bucky has been best friends with Steve for so long; how could he love you more?

“Really?” you said skeptically.

“Yes. I know I’ve been his best bud for a while, but time doesn’t mean anything to him when it comes to you. He could never, ever hate you. I need you to understand that,” he said to you with a serious, yet tender smile. You were taken aback by that. You knew Steve loved you, but you didn’t know it was to such a large extent. He was pretty hard on you most of the time, which made sense as to why you had never really figured it out.

You hummed in response, just barely moving one side of your mouth to show him you understood.

“Can you smile for me?” he said, having to move his head down to look at you in the eye.

“Not now Bucky...” you spoke as you looked all the way down, fiddling with your fingers.

“Guess I’ll have to do it for you,” he said casually, pushing you down on the bed and clawing his digits into your stomach.

“BUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHO!” you squealed, bubbly giggles spurting from you like hiccups.

“All you gotta do is smile...,” he sang as he grinned widely from ear to ear. You knew he was probably only doing this to cheer you up after just being yelled at, but the alcohol in you wasn’t going to let him have it too easily, so you tried your hardest to suck in your lips, keeping them tightly pressed between your teeth.

“Wooow, you want it that bad huh?” Bucky grinned evilly, knowing that you had just given him the opportunity to go in for the kill. He then pulled you towards him so he could sprawl his legs across yours, shaking his hands into your ribs in a flash. You felt like you were about to explode, given the fact that you were practically screaming through your nose as to not crack a smile. “Still nothing? Okay...,” he said as he cracked his neck and knuckles, then pulling your shirt up and blowing a huge raspberry right in the center of your stomach.

“HAHAHAHA! OKAHAHAHAY IHI GIHIHIVE I GIVE!” you yelled in defeat.

“Smile,” he threatened as he hovered over your limp form. You followed with an all too exaggerated smile.

“There,” you said as you switched to a straight face, “ya happy now?” you rolled your eyes as you yawned widely.

“I’m only happy if you’re happy doll. Now get some rest, you’re probably gonna have to hear what I said all over again from Steve tomorrow.” You groaned at that as you slipped under your covers.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he sympathized, walking over to the door of your bedroom to shut off the lights.

“Wait! Can you- maybe... sleep here?” you asked hesitantly. Neither Steve or Bucky had slept in your bed with you for a while now, so you were afraid he might think it was odd considering you were now a teenager.

“Who said I was leaving?” he said almost offendedly, running up to your bed and throwing himself beside you, pulling you towards him as he snuggled you tightly, making you giggle a bit. “G’night bug,” Bucky said softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“Night Buck.” He just barely heard you over the weight of tiredness that quickly overtook you; you weren’t excited about what tomorrow might bring with Steve and all, but you were satisfied with the fact that you had Bucky’s support, and for that reason, it made no sense to be worried.

[thanidiel]

Prompt Four: “Clinch”

CW: Hanging, execution.

An education is a foundation.

And in that, she knew that in spite of the turns’ worth of learnings that she has consumed as much as they seared back, that true knowledge had not been gifted to her yet.

Everything, so far, was thrown about to flit around her mind unanchored. It provided the distinct sense of someone high and mighty tossing about koban or butcher scraps onto the earth, curious to distill men to their natures in one apathetic swoop.

There was no end goal professed, no purpose.

She shaped foreign languages from a deliberate mouth and under a controlled hand without exercise. The sprawl of hundreds of works of calligraphy were never seen again after she had produced them. Recitations were insisted again and again without analysis of the source at all. And when suns came in which they moved from beyond the tranquility of Geigu’s small room, she was made to dance to no narrative, sing to no audience. When she was challenged to recall the exact movements of a stranger from a sennight ago, or to report a muffled conversation that leaked just barely through dozens upon dozens of fulms of hallway, she was nodded to without commentary. Ceremonies were performed with no one to partake, over and over.

All lessons; landing vacantly and without meaning. Given to her to play with or use as she felt she needed.

And then one evening she was touched.

Often, another would manipulate her body. Ceaselessly, endlessly, infinitely. To dress or undress her, pull her to one room or another position, pin gold-encrusted jewels and stone to her form or neatly remove the headache-inducing weights.

She was a doll, afterall.

But in this a clause, that she did not know existed, found itself violated.

Of course, when a law is broken by the unknowing, enlightenment wraps itself against the breast of punishment.

The man was a kitchen-hire, she overheard at some point in all of the flurry and setup.

He had tried to push her against the walls of the corridors in her passing, to touch her hip underneath layers of silk. Dimly as she warded herself, she developed cognisance of the vexations of her Elder Sisters. Their lacking disinterests in even crossing paths with another who was not their own nor patron.

Okimoto had ripped him off of her in the space between instances.

And now they were here.

In the red room.

The bloodlight radiating nothing but its hue, the expanse of the room so barren and chilling that she always expects her breathes to puff out visible in front of her. Like it did in the mountains to the breath of a girl she didn’t know anymore, in the village of yellow dust and thick snows.

It never does.

She does her best to not shiver, to control herself with the exactness demanded of her. No twinge allowed of her muscles, no itch at her lip or the way a pin in her hair pricks at the head underneath. She must be as stony as the Lady Chinatsu, this she knew without instruction. To be stoic from where she sits upon folded knees below the old matron.

Most of all, she must not look at Lady Chinatsu nor possess the urge at any point.

To look was to doubt Judgement.

Instead, she fixes on the details of her partner in crime: his fore nearly one with the black wood below.

He had to be two decades older than her measly sixteen Heavensturns, from what she saw earlier in the bulbous shape of his bones beneath worn skin starting to stretch.

And, evidently, he is possibly as poor as she was when she crossed the Ruby Sea. Like he could not afford the layered attire of even everyday persons, as what he has is of the cheapest dyes, and looks used and tugged to its limits. Like it had passed owners of multiple shapes and sizes before coming to him.

She counts stitches as Chinatsu verdicts and enforces.

Two crimes were perpetuated and both would be resolved tonight, even as the Lady of the Teahouse only shares one aloud.

This man had committed the crime of rudely treating her property, and thus insulting her.

‘Chitora’ as she had named the youth, had committed the crime of not knowing better.

One will provide reparations and the other will amend their individual failure.

“...it will be left to my Daughter to determine the best way you can make up for your rudeness.”

Here is where Xiaohu ‘Chitora’ tunes back to it all, with the new clutch of the familial referral. In its aftermath, a reminder of the force that Chinatsu enjoyed concluding all of her lawmaking with - the pale flare of the raking scar underneath her hair.

It is this particular moment, and all that it inspires, that she feels what is solid and sound underneath her.

This is her lesson.

This is her education.

The subtext, the want, the expectation, the demand, does not escape her. She has been prepared for this. This is the foundation that carries the Heavens that had been shared with her, brought to her by the materialisation of a Black Mist in a golden room. She has her answers now.

Her Mandate is not only to serve, but to rule.

She is to serve Lady Chinatsu, serve Tsukumogami, serve the Black Mist. But she is to rule all those outside of this, and thus naturally below and lesser. To not permit these offenses, to not have needed Chinatsu to control this affair in her stead. 

She is to be cruel. Cruel as to obliterate not only the insult of someone daring to offend, but also end any, and all, future possibilities before they can even be born within the minds of a thousand others.

Something about this causes what she knows to be fear to coil and slither through her belly, as though it wishes to rupture free. Different, from the aching Destiny and desire that had allured, allures, her to Tsukumogami and all of Their machinations.

Perhaps it is because she both knows and doesn’t know at all, what is needed here.

A test, a trial; her lesson.

She is expected to punish.

And so she is silent, and thoughtful, and above all, she does not look back towards the ancient moon looming over her, casting radiance that burns into her spine and shoulders.

She does not doubt Judgement.

But she does doubt herself.

She doubts that someone so young as herself can accurately perform this affair. She doubts that she will be evenhanded enough as much as she doubts she will be harsh enough, soft enough. She doubts she can go through with the minimal result she needed to walk away with.

Her mouth is unmoving. No shift of her lips; no grind of her teeth; no drag of her tongue. Stagnant, and dryer than ever before. Dryer than she thinks it would feel like even if she orders the man thrown out to die in a desert faraway.

Fear whispers to her like a witch’s cant, inserting its imagery into her imagination/prophecy. If she refused, if she was too light, how long? How long until she is thrown away? Would they simply toss her away? Besmirched and tainted, unable to thrive anywhere else than their arms? Or would they end it more quickly than that? If she refused; if she were useless in spite of all of their wants and investment, into what they thought she could become?

In this way, it has all become a matter of survival.

That is the consequence of her failure.

Her silence is too long.

Indecision is also a weakness, unfitting of this new understanding.

So she acts now, with a grandiose sigh. A theatrical gesture that Geigu had passed to her; a way of showing casualness, filling another with the insignificance of their conversation. Lets it open and relax her ribs and her squirming insides, twist along with her tongue and give her words the power of breathlessness.

“If it is in his like to be unable to keep his hands to himself, then he should feel what it is like to be powerless to help himself with them.”

Here is where she intakes the smallest amount of air, to allow the last of her words to flick off of sharp wind - provide the feeling of dismissal, the shutting window.

“I want him hanged.”

The moon raises her hand; approval and assent all at once in the dark shadow cutting the crimson lanternlight.

“Have it be done.”

Unnervingly, everything occurs shortly, smoothly. Like she had asked for something casual and everyday. The gravity of Chinatsu’s aether stealing all ability to scream and protest, as others used abilities beyond her to leap fulms up to the rafters and swing about rope that had to be half her weight in ponze… quiet. Normalised. As though they were all preparing a bowl of noodles from the streetside for her.

She feels so weightless that she might as well be the one destined to swing, if it were not for her concentration, her grounding. The repetitive and cyclical reminder that this is the foundation they had set out for her to learn all along. This is the foundation, and she had not gambled and guessed on this success like it felt. She was chosen for a reason, afterall.

So there is no fear, no need for fear with everything said and done.

There is only the feeling that she is adrift at ocean, holding on the sanctuary of debris beneath her belly, as the minutes tick by. An intimate, intensive, awareness of the wheezing filling the room, his fingers chipping nail and fleshsmears against rope fibers until they do not.

When it all stops, she raises her chin.

The body still sways from the force of a life that had wanted to be.

A detail catches her eye: the clinch of the rope butting snug, almost nuzzling, against the round jut of bone behind a bowed neck.

It is the most well-fitted thing the man has ever worn.

[breanime]

Heartworm (Part One)

Guess who got her internet baaccccck! This gal! So @songtoyou sent me this request and I IMMEDIATELY started getting ideas. This could be up to or past 5 parts, I don’t even know! It all depends if you guys like it and want more! This is kind of a soft re-imagining of season 2.

Request:  How about instead of Billy going to his stupid psychiatrists place to seek refuge, he goes to the home of a girl who he was in a serious relationship with. Like, this girl is the only person Billy could ever see himself settling down with. However, once he got money, status, and power from Rawlins he pushed her to the side and eventually dropped her from his life. But once she sees the state Billy is in and how sad, scared and alone he is she wants to help him.

Part One is based on Halsey’s Without Me, particularly these lyrics:  

Found you when your heart was broke I filled your cup until it overflowed Took it so far to keep you close (Keep you close) I was afraid to leave you on your own

I said I'd catch you if you fall And if they laugh, then fuck 'em all (All) And then I got you off your knees Put you right back on your feet Just so you can take advantage of me

*gif not mine* (I gotta stop using this gif lol)

You stood frozen in your living room, eyes glued on the TV. The news was saying that Billy, your Billy, was a murderous traitor and a danger to society. You watched as they showed footage of Billy’s apartment up in flames. They said he bombed it himself after killing a handful of Homeland Security agents, they also said that he hired mercenaries for his Anvil staff. The government seized his assets. He shot Curtis in the shoulder. He knew about Frank’s family. He set them up to be killed. Billy. Your Billy.

Except he wasn’t your Billy anymore; he hadn’t been your Billy for three years. You sat down on the couch, legs numb with shock, as you took in what the newscaster was saying about your ex-boyfriend, the only man you’ve ever loved. They flashed a picture of him on the screen. The caption read: “Armed and Dangerous, Do Not Approach”. The newscaster was saying something about Homeland and Frank going after Billy, but it was all starting to sound like white noise to you. Your mind said to get out of town and run until it was all over, but your heart wanted to reminisce, wanted to remind you why you even cared in the first place.

“…and I’m gonna have a Rolls Royce,” Billy said, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around your waist, “I’m gonna drive it to meetings, rich assholes love a power play.”

You smiled up at Billy, you loved listening to his grand plans for the future. “Are you gonna be a pocket square kind of rich asshole or a ‘Maureen, hold my calls’ kind of rich asshole?”

“Mm,” Billy pulled you closer to his naked chest, “I’m gonna be a pocket square kind of asshole,” he answered, “that’s the best way to run a business.”

“Of course,” you agreed, snuggling up against him, “you’re gonna be a big shot. And I’m gonna have to make an appointment with Maureen just to see you.”

Billy tsked and put a finger on your chin, lifting your face so you were eye-to-eye. “That ain’t never gonna happen,” his dark eyes bore into yours, “I’ll always have time for you.”

You smiled and pressed your lips against his. You felt Billy’s arms tighten around you, lifting you up until you were laying on top of him. You kissed him again, slowly parting your lips, inviting his tongue into your waiting mouth. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust when you pulled back. You rubbed your nose against his. “I love you.”

His smile made your chest heave with adoration. “I love you too, Y/N.” He kissed you again. “I promise I’m gonna make you proud one day, baby. I’m gonna get us outta this shit hole and out you somewhere nice, where you belong.”

You shrugged. Money and status meant a lot to Billy, meant success, but you were happy enough where you were. Yeah, your apartment was kind of small, and yeah, the heat stopped working every few months, but you’d lived in worst places. Besides, you had Billy. He made you so unbelievably happy; you could have lived in a cave—as long as Billy was with you, you’d be fine. “You know I’m already proud of you,” you told him, “You’ve accomplished so much already.”

“Mm,” Billy kissed the top of your head, “I can do more.” He kissed your nose. “I’m gonna get this security shit together.” He kissed your right eyelid. “I’m gonna get us a place uptown.” He kissed your left eyelid. “And I’m gonna make it so you don’t ever have to work again.” You sighed as he kissed your cheek next. “I ain’t gonna let anyone look down on us anymore.” He kissed your other cheek. “I’m gonna make you so happy, baby.” You felt yourself melt when he finally kissed you on the lips. “I’m gonna take care of us…

…I’m gonna take care of you.”

You turned the TV off, cradling the remote to your chest. You felt your breath getting shallower and casually recognized your erratic heartbeat. You didn’t know what to do. You believed the news—you weren’t sure about the details, but you knew Billy well enough to know that he would do anything for power. You had seen the change that money bought him firsthand, and you didn’t like it at all. You thought about calling Curtis, but you didn’t want to bother him. He was probably up to his neck in cops and paperwork and…Homeland Security, apparently. You wondered how it came to this. Frank was alive. Billy was a wanted man. Curtis was wounded. And you…were alone.

You spent the night on the couch, too numb and confused to get up. You dreamt of Billy and woke up shivering. You got up and made yourself a cup of coffee. Your phone was on the counter, and you frowned as you picked it up. You had missed calls from your mom, your best friend, your boss, and your sister. You had no desire to speak to any of them. You also had a call and voicemail message from an unknown number. Hitting the speaker button, you played the message.

“You’re gonna hear some things on the news.” Billy. “They’re true. I…I did all those things they say I have. By the time you get this message, I’m either gonna be on the run or dead.” It sounded like he took a breath before continuing. “I wanted to see you before I go, but…that’s not gonna happen. So just… Just know that I…” A sigh. “…I think about you all the time. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, a lot of bad choices, done a lot of shitty things, but… I only regret one thing: letting you go. I wish… I should have fought for you more. I should have…” There was some shuffling, and you thought Billy might have put the phone down for a moment. “Listen, they’re gonna say a lot of things about me, and people are gonna try to tell you that I’m heartless and evil, but I want you to remember…You loved me once. You’re the only one I could ever be honest with, the only person in this world who knows who I am. Just… Remember that. And… I’m sorry, Y/N. Goodbye.”

You stood in your kitchen and listened to Billy’s message for at least another 30 minutes. By the time you went back to the couch and turned the TV on, Billy was pronounced near-death and was being kept under constant surveillance at the hospital. Frank Castle was said to be ‘in the wind’ and Anvil was being torn down and all the profits split up. The news interviewed a medical professional about the chances of Billy making any kind of recovery. They predicted he would be dead in six months.

You turned the TV off and wept.

It had been nearly a year since everything went down with Billy. The coverage for Billy’s case had pretty much stopped after a month, and people were onto the next scandal now. Curtis had stopped by your place and told you that Frank left town. The visit had been brief, but he told you what Billy had done—confirming what you’d heard on the news—and said that his orders had come from someone named Rawlins. Rawlins, you understood, was dead. Curtis had word from Frank to tell you that he had been given a new identity by the government and was going to hit the road for a while. When you asked why he’d want you to know that, Curtis had just said: “you needed to know it was over”. You should have felt anger, or pity or sadness but… you felt nothing. You had been operating on auto-pilot, swimming in a thick fog of numbness, since Billy had been arrested. The last thing you could remember feeling, really feeling, was a deep and intense sorrow when you listened to Billy’s message. He had broken your heart, left you, and then revealed himself to be a monster and you…You were just tired.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Y/N,” Billy’s back was to you. You had barged into his office at Anvil, demanding to see him, but now that you were there… The way he was talking to you was cold and detached. His stance was rigid, his focus was on the recruits below him, not on you. This Billy—CEO Billy—was not what you had signed up for.

“I want you to say you’re sorry,” you said, “I want you to say you care.” Billy didn’t say anything. You clenched your fists. “Look at me, Billy.”

He turned. He was wearing an expensive three-piece suit and his hair was impeccably cut. His eyes, the eyes you loved, the eyes that looked at you with such care and affection, were hollow.

“What happened to you?” You asked, looking him up and down with disgust. “You never come home, you barely spend any time with me—”

“What do you want, Y/N?” He said, irritation clear in his voice. “I’m busy. I’m working. I’m trying to afford the penthouse we live in and the car you drive.”

“I bought my own car,” you reminded him, eyes narrowed as you glared at him, “And I work, too, but I make time for the people I love.”

Billy sighed, rolling his shoulders. “I told you, you don’t have to work.”

You sighed then. He was missing the point. “Billy,” you tried again, “I’m tired of this. I can’t keep being an afterthought for you. I need you.” You tried to look in his eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “I miss you.”

Billy walked over to you and put a hand on your waist. He pulled you towards him and kissed you. “I miss you, too,” his voice was husky as he moved his lips to your neck, “I know I’ve been working a lot lately, but we’re so close…”

You closed your eyes. You wanted to have a conversation, but it was hard to think of words—let alone form any—with his mouth on your skin. “Will you come home tonight?” You asked, breath short and voice heavy with lust.

“Mm hmm,” his hand slid to your ass as he kissed you again, “I’m gonna be all yours tonight.” He licked into your mouth and smiled when you moaned.

You felt his hardness pressing against your front and you deepened the kiss. “I don’t know if I can wait that long,” you whispered.

Billy chuckled and released you from his grip. You glared as you watched him walk over to his desk. He pressed a button on his phone and leaned over to speak. “Hold all my calls,” he ordered, smirking over at you, “I don’t want any calls or interruptions for the next hour.” He walked past you and you heard him lock the door behind you. His eyes were gleaming when he turned back to you and he looked like himself, like your Billy, again. His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Take your clothes off, baby. I want to spend some time with you.”

You sat up with a start. It had been months since you’d last dreamt of Billy. You looked around you and cursed under your breath. You had fallen asleep on the couch. No wonder you were off. You hadn’t been able to have a full night’s rest without sleep aids since…since Billy had left that message on your phone. If you didn’t take a pill before you went to bed, you would dream about Billy. You didn’t want to dream about him, you wanted to ignore the ache in your chest and the emptiness in your life and just… Get over it. Get over him. You felt a headache coming on, so you shuffled to the bathroom for a quick shower before bed.

Your mind kept going back to Billy as you got ready for bed; you remembered the strain in his voice in the message he left you, how he used to laugh when you stuck your cold feet on his back, the way he stared down at you as he shifted inside you, driving you wild. You could see his eyes, dark and expressive and so full of love when he looked at you, every time you closed your eyes. You gave up on sleep and went back to the couch, deciding to just spend the night watching horrible night time TV until you could get Billy out of your head.

You were finally getting into the Real Housewives marathon you had been watching when you heard a knock on your door. You glanced at your phone: it was 11 pm. Who the hell would be at your door at this time? You grabbed your phone in case you needed to call the police and stood on your tip-toes to look into the peephole. Your mouth fell open at the same time your phone hit the floor with a dull thump.

Billy Russo was standing in the hallway of your apartment. And he was covered in blood.

*************************************************************************************

I have the next two parts locked and loaded! Pleaaase comment and let me know if you want the rest. The more feedback I get, the more I update! Thanks for reading, and may Billian be with you.

BTW, I got the title from this “emotion that’s hard to describe word”:  Heartworm: a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

TAGLIST: @delicatelilyflower @doneobrien @ladyblablabla @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor  @starsfragments @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @hisgirlwednesdayaddams@fictionwillneverdie @maria-beretta @sadnessxvodka @ymariejp @sunnycolors @moonlightsay @its-all-o-kay @damagelove @keyeluh @itsmylife98 @funerals-with-cake @littlemermaidprobz @teacuplotus @king4thesirens @mrsjaxtellerfan @thebabblingbook @tartelette-aux-fraises @madamrogers  @charlylama @iaintnofurry​ @k-buggz2001​ @whitewolfslittlesilverfox @drinix @elanor-of-imladris @floralpeaceofmind

[bonbonswirl-blog]

Safe (a little sequel to "impressive"?)

NONE OF THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME THEY ALL BELONG TO @BRUEKLYNN ONLY I OWN NOTHING.

U dont really have to read "impressive", but you may get really confused about what are the characters talking about here and wat happend bc the idea is like lil sequel to that fanfic. Something before we get to some action fanfic guys! also sorry bc one of the characters is a little OOC here (or maybe even both!) enjoy if you can lol.

Its been two hours since rob was searching for jim to ask him for his opinion about the new script he wrote for the new jokey episode. The proplem is, he cant find the stuttery storyboarder anywhere in sight! He looked in many rooms, He asked a lot of people if they saw him, with only samuel replying to him that jim was running away strangely like he was in a hurry, before telling rob to leave his office. Rob didnt really understand why would jim run that quickly like this in the studio, he was always so cautious about every little action he takes, espicially with the 'dangerous' things to him, running in the studio is an example, he knows that jim would tell him that doing this have many bad outlooks. like, he may fall and break his bones! Or have a few scars on his face! Or maybe fall hardly to the point that the ground break down under him and fall to the second floor beneath! Thinking like that was a little funny to rob, he never met someone before with the same thinking method. But presently he was tring to give jim some excuses for running like he did, what if he maybe had a meeting that he was late for? or he forgot to do something important in his job? or he was alerted about something and wanted to tell everyone? Rob wont know the exact reason, but he hopes that jim had done whatever he needed to do and right know, Rob needs to find him to finish this script review before the night come, he was already too tired of searching for jim. It may be weird to think that someone would hide all day in one of the studio room until the night, but everyone told rob that jim was noticed to be absent from the view since hours. With no sign that he went out of the place, the only option left is that jim locked himself in one of the studio rooms, which is the last option Rob wanted to consider since the studio is reeaally big and have many many rooms there....

Rob was already exusted greetly, his legs in pain, He looked in every studio room out there, expect for five ones, and good thing for him those are the last five. Whats even better? they are all in the same hall. Finally! Jim must be in one of those five, and all what he have to do is open and close the doors. those rooms seem to be some kind of store rooms in the studio, with each one having random things stored inside it.

Rob walked to the first room in the right and opened it, wishing jim is already there. But he saw nothing but some music instruments, he closed the door and went to the second room in the left, opening the door, finding just a bunch of papers everywhere, closing the door in dissapointment again, this is really boring and he is tired and want to end this work now. He went to the third room in the right, he was about to open it but....suddenly before he do...he heard a voice...a very low and odd voice.....but the hall he is in was so quiet that the odd voice was the only thing that could be heard, other than rob own footsteps. It was a very unclear and inditinct sound...it looked like it was coming from behind him, which was the forth door in the left, that is right behind him. It must be for jim right? Who else could it be for? Jim is the only one who must have locked himself in that room. When rob moved softly near to where the audio is coming from, the voice started to become a little more clear, but when rob drew his head near that door he tried to figure about what this voice is saying or who is he talking with. but he couldnt understand a word, perhaps those are not words and this is..........is this sobbing?....no.....he hoped that this is not what he is thinking about right now........he was really very worried about what is happening inside.........he even forgot about his whole purpose when he was searching for jim and just wanted to check if he is alright there.....he slowly moved the door handle and moved it down to open that door only to be greeted by..........

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"AHHHHHH!!!!!"

Jim screamed in fear and jumped so high when rob opened the door, breathing so heavily and hardly! on the other hand, rob screamed when jim did out of that sudden move, he just jumped a few steps to the back, he did it! he found jim! But before he utter any word he saw jim and..........he was highly startled by what he saw........jim face........all of it was......so ruddy......even his freckles were very hard to be noted under all of this redness..... his eyes...so puffy....so dark.... so swollen.....so dry......dry because all of the tears inside were used....the traits of the endless river of those salty drops that streamed down his tight face were etched on it as if he had been crying since forever....even some drops were still falling from his chin....his face was wet, on every inch of it......his shirt and hands even drenched....

".........Jim!............." " r-r-rob!.....I-I-I!..........I-I.....I....." jim whole body was trembling....he couldnt bring himself to say something.....how can he explain now? he looked like if he is trying to hold himself up strong...but he just..... gave up....collapsing on his knees, looking at the ground woefully. Rob was dolorous to the scene in front of him...he never thought that one day he will see something like that happen to one of the dearest people to him...... he tried with tender steps to approach his quivering friend, when he did.....he sat on his knees too, very placidly putting his hands on jim fallen face to make him look at him....but looking at jim crying face only made his heart sink....sink deep to places he never knew where there...it seemes that rob had a spot for his friend. That was a horrid thing that rob didnt want to witness again, Or jim...That cordial gloss that favoured jim eyes was no longer there... The look in them were so lonesome. The glint they had that revealed a world of darkness, his eyes revealed it all. The dark, colourless eyes that mourned his despair....rob gloomily moved his hand gently up and down his soulmate wet cheek, as if telling him that he will be ok, everything is alright now, he gave him one last sad look before starting to talk.

" ...What happend?..... " jim eyes went to the ground, the muscles of his chin tremble like a small child, despite the consolation feelings from his friend warm soft hands on his tensed face, he couldnt bring himself to speak of what happened, what if this ilwas a stupid reason to cry or to be afraid of? Rob waited for an answer, but it never came, he could sense that jim still have some doubt and terror inside him. Rob closed his eyes with a sigh, pressing his hands on jim face to make him focus on his once more "....jim....you are a very dear friend to me....my best friend...my soulmate....I really feel so worried about you...know that whatever happend...im here with you...I will always support and be next to you in whatever goes....I cant be fine when I see you like this...you can tell me anything you want to..I promise that I wont tell anyone...and will help you in whatever you need...please let me be a shoulder to you..and let me understand whatever bother you...." jim was....moved by what he just heard...that reminded him of how much lucky he is to have someone in his life like Rob, oh how much he loved being with him. He forced his desperate neck to look in the eyes of his understanding soulmate, he wanted so bad to be able to start narrating the story.

" R-Rob...can I tell you s-something?...." " ofcourse! You can tell me anything! " ".....I....sometimes rob....I....really w-wish that...I had a...n-normal childhood like all t-the other people...." he paused for a few seconds because that was something he wasnt certain he should talk about, rob looked at him with a confused face. " you s-see.....I-I just wished t-to run around in an o-o-open feild after butterflies like everyone...p-play in those small playgrounds in the b-backyards...d-draw with those colorful watercolor p-paints without being s-so scared to touch them...I-I-I just w-wish I was given t-the opportunity to try new things l-like all the others, without my freedom b-being held back by 'them'....if I j-just had a better people that could h-help me grow u-up...Insted Of Having A M-M-Man That Always Make Me Scream In Fright E-Every Moment He Comes home! A-And Cry Myself To S-Sleep!..." jim didnt know if he felt better or not after admitting everything...rob listened to him with every detail...he understands it all now... ".......jim.....I....Im sorry.....I-I understand you had a troubled family...but its alright...you are away from them now...you are here with us...that 'man' was all just a bad memory from the past..." ".......no.......worse......he wasnt j-just a memory... h-he was here.....h-here in the studio....h-he was trying to get me....a-again...pull me back to h-his drakness...He a-almost catched me...but t-thanks the gods samuel w-was there to save me..." rob got confused again, he thought jim was talking about his bad childhood, but it was more. He stopped. He gets what really happened now. Linking together what jim and samuel told him, he connected all the puzzle pieces together now. Jim father was here in the studio hours ago, jim saw him and fled away quickly, with samuel saving him in the last moment before being captured. Jim looked at rob, looking broken " r-r-rob!....I-I-I cant let him s-see me again...I-If he had me in his hands one more time....h-he.....h-h-h-h-h-h-h-he......" that last part was choppy as if jim tongue got tangled, his body shivering again, looking down in sorrow

" Jim "

The shy storyboarder, shakingly looked up hearing his name being called, his eyes started having a tenuous layer of water over them. Rob didnt speak a word. Insted, He opened his arms, as if telling his friend to come over here, rest his head on his shoulders, lay on him, and let it all out....jim understood it, he was taken aback by rob sudden genial offer, but he accepted it, crawling to him, then wrapping his shuddered lanky arms around his friend, resting his lumbering head on his best friend strong chest, feeling his mild heartbeats. Hearing it reminded jim of the nice and tenderness waves he feels when he is with rob. Who just closed his eyes and toke him in a sympathetic embrace.

Without hisetance, The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down his face, unceasingly, hands clutching at his holder back, who held him in silence. Perhaps these tears will help wash the blood out. He pressed his head against his friend chest, hoping that those heartbeats will soothe him down just like the patting in his back do. There is a static in his head once more, the side effect of this constant fear, constant stress he lives with. He hears his own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. It takes something out of him he didnt know he had left to give. That's the way it is when people are hard. It's like a theft of the spirit, an injury no other person can see. Rob held him in silence, rocking him slowly as the tears soaked his chest, a tiny lapse let jim pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before he collapse again, his howls of misery worsening. The pain must have come in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling him back into the outstretched arms of his grief.

" Shhhhhhhh.....Shhhhhh.....its alright jim.....you are here with me....in my arms you will be safe.....you are safe now.....you are safe...."

Just a few more minutes and jim was done, he now really feels better, he feela.....safe....a feeling he didnt encounter for such a long time ago, in Rob arms all his troubles have been washed away, how much can he be thankful to have him here with him? He lift his head after that break down to look at the script writer in gratitude, trying to find the right words to say, But before he do rob placed his hands on jim shoulders, making jim back stright, rob stared for momebt into his eyes.

" Now I want you to take a breathe and, inhale.....exhale....inhale....exhale" jim was taking deep breathes after rob. feeling the remaining weigh of stress go away.

" Now I want you to repeat after me..... My name is jim gooder. " " M-My name is j-jim gooder....." " I am a talented storyboarder. " "I-I am a t-talented storyboarder......" " and I have many friends who are by my side." " a-and I have m-many friends who are by m-my side....." jim stopped for a moment, he felt that he was a new person now, like he was reborn again. While rob gave him a friendly smile, feeling so happy for his dear soulmate recovery.

[fanficimagery]

Anonymous said: Do u do monty imagines bc i rly need more of him + Anonymous said: Please give me more monty i cant get enough

Author's Note: Because some of you asked so nicely.. enjoy my attempt at Montgomery. Also, much thanks to @jayadoreee for creating 'Dating Montgromery Includes' headcanons that sparked the idea for this ;) One headcanon in particular had me laughing, but as I was listening to a couple of songs.. inspiration struck! So go listen to 'Gangsta' and 'Crazy in Love' to get a feel of the mood I was in when writing this XD

MONTY X READER

Montgomery de la Cruz. There was a lot to be said about this bad boy, a lot to dislike about him as well, but given that he's been your boyfriend for the last eight months.. well you mustn't find him all that terrible.

But that wasn't the case once upon a time. Once upon a time you sneered at his attempts to intimidate fellow students, told him to fuck off one too many times to count, and even shoved him off Alex once when they got into one of their monthly fist fights.

His cruelty lessened when he turned his sights on you and every time you went to tell him off, you found that your amusement would spike. He noticed it, too, if his attempts to get a rise out of you almost everyday were anything to go by. Every curse you spewed at him was then followed by a smile and roll of your eyes instead of a sneer, and you found that Monty had wormed his way beneath your skin without even realizing it until it was too late.

The first time he asked you out, you had laughed in his face and walked away. The second time, you thought it over and rejected him with a joke, but the third.. the third time was the charm.

There was something genuine about his request the third time he sought you out, about the way he willingly took the jabs from his jock friends without lashing out at them that made you decide to give him a chance. You then ended up giving him several chances after that since his anger used to get the best of him and you were constantly bickering about his bullying tendencies, but he soon cooled off and mellowed out much to your pleasure.

Because if it wasn't for Monty, you wouldn't have flourished and opened up in ways that you never expected you were capable of doing. That and you never would have realized just what kinks you had.

"Hey, babe, ready to go?" Monty leans tiredly against the bleachers after baseball practice- hat worn backwards, shirt soaked with sweat and duffel bag hanging off one shoulder. "It's hot."

"Yeah. Let me just pack up." 

You quickly shove your textbooks and spirals back into your book bag, standing up and hopping down the stairs. Monty waits for you at the bottom, automatically taking your hand into his as he walks you to his vehicle. He's not one for public affection unless it's in a joking, teasing manner in front of his friends, but you don't really care to be all over him in front of anyone anyway.

Once situated in his jeep though, you both lean over the space separating you and meet each other halfway. The kiss is slow and languid, his tongue slipping into your mouth to caress yours. His teeth catch your bottom lip then and he bites down with just enough pressure to make you groan as he pulls back. His darkened gaze holds nothing but promises for a fun time later, and you momentarily wonder how the hell this boy is ready to go after a grueling day under the sun.

"You're showering before anything happens," you say, voice already thick with want.

He smirks. "God bless mothers who nag their husbands enough until he gets off his ass and takes her to Vegas. You're spending the night with me tonight."

Your gut warms in anticipation and you clench your thighs to ease the sudden throbbing when his hand lands just above your knee and slowly inches towards your inner thigh. "Yes, sir," you airily breathe and then chuckle darkly when he groans in return.

The drive to your house is as fast as possible without tempting law enforcement to pull you guys over. You leave your bag in Monty's vehicle, knowing you'll need it tomorrow, and make quick work of rushing inside to pack an overnight bag and clothes for the following day. And then the last thing you do before leaving is change your current underthings for something more fresh and eye appealing.

You barely have time to shut the door to the jeep before Monty's peeling out, you laughing as he clenches his jaw and wraps his hands tight around the steering wheel to make sure you get to his house in one piece.

Since you're already familiar with the layout of Monty's house, you casually stroll about as he takes the stairs two at time to reach his personal bathroom. You laugh at his retreat, grabbing yourself a bottle of water from the fridge before making you're way up. Setting aside your belongings takes no time at all, so you make yourself comfortable by kicking off your shoes and putting on some music.

Monty soon returns, the only article of clothing he's wearing being a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. 'Gangsta' starts playing over the dock speakers, the beat of the song setting the mood right away and you gulp at the sight of water droplets traveling down his chest. 

He smirks as he saunters towards you and you hesitantly stand to meet him halfway. "I have plans for you tonight, sweetheart."

Your eyes widen as your heart starts to thump faster and Monty rests his hands on your shoulders. His hands slowly travel down your arms until he reaches your hips, his hands then wandering towards your back and down to your ass, still travelling lower until he grips the back of your thighs in hand and lifts you up. Immediately your hands clasp together at the back of his neck and he chuckles deeply as he walks you around to the side of his bed before kneeling on the mattress and dropping you in the middle.

"Am I going to like these plans?" You ask, voice nearly a murmur.

"Y/N, you're going to love 'em."

His lips crash hungrily against yours, one hand diving into the hair at the nape of your neck. As he grips and pulls as hard as he dares, you moan aloud and allow him the chance to lick inside your mouth. It's hungry, yet passionate at the same time and your toes curl in anticipation.

Maneuvering you around so your back is towards the headboard, he pushes you down until you’re flat on your back and continues his nipping kisses down the side of your neck. "I know how much you enjoy my formal ties coming into play," he says, "but I got something a little different this time around.”

And it's true. You didn't think you'd be into the whole being tied up during sex, but something about Monty doing the tying up really got you going. Even more when Monty let you tie him up.

You don't realize what he's talking about until you find your wrists pinned together above your head, your eyes widening in surprise when you hear the jingle of chains. "Shh. Relax," he murmurs, nipping your chin. "It's not handcuffs."

No, it's not handcuffs, but it is leather cuffs that are linked to thin chains that are hidden between the headboard and mattress. "Fuck me," you mutter, feeling even more turned on than you were just seconds ago.

"That's the plan."

Your wrists are soon bound and you hiss when pull on them, the cuffs biting into the delicate skin. Monty chuckles as he slowly starts to slide your shirt up, groaning when he reveals black lace and then leaving your shirt as a blindfold over your eyes. You start to squirm as he trails kisses over the tops of your breasts, then trails his tongue down the center of your abdomen before sucking a bruise just above the button of your jeans.

"Monty," you whine. "Stop teasing."

"As you wish."

The button of your jeans is popped open, the material roughly yanked down your legs before your knees are spread and the warmth of his mouth covers your throbbing center.

♪♫My freakness is on the loose and running all over you. Please take me to places that nobody, nobody knows. You got me hooked up on the feeling. You got me hanging from the ceiling. Got me up so high I'm barely breathing. So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me, don’t let me go♪♫

With only a few hours of sleep, you find yourself waking up later than you normally wake up and rush to get ready for school. Monty merely rolls over and continues sleeping as you shower, you then finding him dressed and as smug as can be when you re-enter his room to finish dressing.

"Stop staring at me," you whine. "And hurry up. You know I hate being late for school."

"You look well fucked," he muses. "No matter how much you brush your hair or apply concealer, you look like you had a long night."

"Mhm. Thank you for that. Now Jessica isn't going to shut up today and she's going to want all the details."

Monty laughs as you pull him out of the room, kicking his back pack towards him as you grab up yours. You're in such a rush to get to the school that you don't realize until it's too late that you forgot to do something important. While you remembered to cover the hickies surrounding your neck, you completely forgot about the other two obvious marks.

"Hey, Y/N," Jessica muses, tucked happily into Justin's side as they stop by your locker, "why are yours wrists so red?"

You freeze, mentally berating yourself for forgetting to cover those. You slam your locker shut only to find Jessica and Justin grinning knowingly, but merely roll your eyes in return. "Don't ask."