#just to know the scope of the abuse

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Megumi’s life in ur “tsumiki and megumi are seperated” AU is super fucked. Does Gojo secretly put him on supervillain watch. Does he try to give him the worst counselling anyone has ever seen.

Worse he keeps trying to become Megumi’s New Dad and Megumi cannot emphasize enough how much he does not want him to do this. Why does Gojo keep asking him to throw a baseball with him. Why does he keep trying to ruffle his hair.

[classychassiss]

The Orion Pax episodes in TFP are interesting because they make good angst fodder on the surface level, but they've become more unsettling to me with time and a rewatch.

The first time I had missed entirely that Optimus was on Nemesis for months and not days like I thought. It sounds really good on paper to think of it as Megatron getting his old friend back but like...theres a two-fold wish fufillment thing going on here and thats: Orion Pax being his loyal and subservient Decepticon (as opposed to the Orion Pax who would argue with him and attempt to declaw his more extreme ideas) and having the pleasure of humiliating Optimus Prime by undermining him in front of the Autobots. And all of this happens with no memory and no sense of autonomy on OPs part, just the creeping sense of something being wrong.

And I think there is something sad about this in the sense that Orion Pax was never a Decepticon in name, but if things had been different he ultimately would have been. It isn't just about Megatron and their relationship to me, but its also the death of the cause and trying to come to terms with that. There is an immense guilt foisted upon Optimus that the revolution turned into a war. He knows he has to do what he has to do to keep the Autobots safe, but he also never 100% closes off the possibility that he could try to end this war diplomatically with Megatron if it means potentially stopping more carnage, nor does he 100% close the channel off for Decepticons to potentially work with them/defect to them. I wouldn't be surprised if a facet of his insistence on these morals is partly because of the guilt stemming from the party split and wanting to affirm that the Autobots are not the enemy, he is not an enemy, and that he does still believe in the core premise of the movement.

But then you see Orion Pax on screen threatened by Megatron, get beat up by Megatron's soldiers, and then eventually by Megatron himself, all while sporting a Decepticon badge. And you have to kind of sit there and think about the idea that Optimus might be his obsession, but that Orion Pax's worth is...questionable. It is a shame that Optimus doesn't retain the memories once he gets the Matrix back because like, I have to imagine this would have been another shattering epiphany that perhaps this perception of their fallout and the fallout of the revolution is still colored by that guilt, but that things were interpersonally broken long before then when it comes to Megatron.

Which is to say that its unclear if his treatment on the Nemesis as Orion Pax was a consequence of their war and the hatred Megatron has specifically for Prime and the Autobots or if this was always going to be the reality of how things would have played out regardless, the idea that Megatron has always had the ability to potentially hurt and discard Orion Pax down the line if he had pushed too far, even during the height of their friendship. One that Orion Pax vehemently defended even in the wake of some terrible things because he trusted Megatron at his core. One where Orion Pax did actively see the red flags but was led to believe that many of them were planted in bad faith by those who would undermine his friend and his movement for simply being a Gladiator. Only to then have all of that come back and bite him all over again.

Now you really have to question if the Megatron you thought you knew ever existed.

[hottestvirgin]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒: 𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings. dom!jaemin, sub!reader, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, dirty talk, passing out, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

it hasn’t even been an hour into this picnic and your boyfriend’s already horny. his excuse? your sundress.

you couldn’t blame him. you looked so pretty in this new dress and you knew it. jaemin loved how much the white piece of cloth set off your glowing skin.. but especially your curves.

“i wanna fuck you so bad.” jaemin tells you in that tone where it’s both playful and serious but it weirdly sends a shiver down your spine.

tsking at his words, you take a strawberry between your plush lips, taking a bite. jaemin licks his lips slowly, still holding your gaze. “you gon’ let me?”

taking a few seconds to scope the scenery, surrounded by tall, pretty trees, you nod at his words. “let’s be quick.”

so that’s how you found yourself bent over the picnic blanket with your dress bunched up around your waist. the center of your soaking panties pulled to the side so jaemin can bully his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

he’s gripping onto the amassed dress, knuckles turning white. he uses the cloth to hold and pull you back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, creating a creamy ring on his shaft.

you were choking on your own saliva from how often you were forgetting to swallow. your mouth’s just agape and it makes each thrust of his rough hips punch a moan out of your poor lungs.

“gimme your hands.” jaemin grunts and he wraps his own hands around your forearms, leaning slightly back and using your arms to balance his weight and pound into you.

the sweet, lewd sounds of your ass clapping back onto his skin fills nature’s silence.

you didn’t know what to do with yourself. jaemin never slows his hips, abusing that sweet, soft gushy spot inside of you. “s—shiiit. juzz.. just like that. pleeeze.”

“yeah? feels good huh?” jaemin grins at your slurred words and straightens his posture, pushing you down onto your stomach to sit on the back of your thighs, burying his cock further into you.

he holds your head down, slamming his hips into you and fuck. you were seeing fucking stars. not even stars anymore. suddenly, just black. and jaemin keeps rutting into your unconscious body, reaching over to cup and squeeze your plush cheeks together.

“you still with me, baby?” jaemin’s hand snakes down to your waist, squeezing there and you gain consciousness, squirting around him with a scream.

he holds down your squirming body, finding amusement in how you’re trying to pull away from his hold.

“so cute.. tryna’ run from it?” jaemin coos and lands a hard blow on your ass, earning a squeal from you.

“i can’t! i can’t take it.. gonna cum..” you whine, thighs starting to quiver uncontrollably.

“you can take it, pretty. doin’ so good for me, shit.” jaemin grunts, feeling his own orgasm approaching, “making such a mess on me, is my dick that good?”

you nod rapidly at his question, drooling against your arm. “love your cock soooo much.”

he hums at your words. “mhm.. i hear you. i’m in so fuckin’ deep, you feel that?” jaemin still his hips, pushing his cock in to the hilt while he lays on top of your back. and fuck. fuckfuckfuck. this had you over the edge on whatever you were clinging onto.

“oh my god.. baby, m’ gonna cum— i’m coming..” you cry into your arms, biting onto your skin to suppress the screams that tries to escape your lungs.

and jaemin rocks his hips against you. so slow and devoted, and you’re clenching hard around him, coming so fucking hard that your whole body shakes.

“f-fuck. i’m coming..” jaemin chants as he rides out his orgasm, panting your fluttering walls with his fluids. he lays his forehead onto your back, panting heavily.

“Y/N?” he calls out, shaking your shoulder. fuck, you had passed out again.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍 𖥔

summary ; after getting out of jail, luke shows up at the house looking for jj, and more than just old feelings are brought out into the open when he stumbles upon your secret. 

pairing ; jj maybank x girlfriend!reader

notes ; profanities, pregnancy, mentions of consensual sex, abuse, and luke maybank ew. let me know if i forgot any !

i do not consent to any of my works being transferred, translated or copied to any other sites. it's stealing and that's not cute.

of all the despicable and outrageous things you had witnessed and heard about luke maybank, from robbing stores and abusing his son, busting a pharmacy only hours after being released from jail really shouldn’t have surprised you. and yet, as you opened the front door of the house he used to once occupy, you couldn’t help but be stunned when you saw him standing there, gasping for air with blood-stained knuckles.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you sneer, venom in your tone as you narrow your eyes at the older man.

“y/n...” he says your name with surprise and a look of disappointment. you were the last person he wanted to see right now. “i, uh, i didn’t realise you and jj were still... together.” he laughs nervously, knowing exactly how to get under your skin, before backing away.

it was no secret that luke didn’t like you, but it also wasn’t a secret that you felt the exact same way. you loathed the man for everything he had done to jj, and you weren’t afraid to let him know exactly how low you thought of him – that he was the scum on the bottom of your shoe, and you hoped and prayed that he would get what was coming to him tenfold.

“aren’t you supposed to be in jail?” you ignore his comment, reaching for the phone in your back pocket to make a point of how easy it would be for you to call the police if he wasn’t careful.

“about that... is – is jj home?” he peers over your shoulder, but you pull the door towards you to cut off his view of the inside.

though in your attempt to hide the fact that jj was just in the next room, he gives it away when he comes scuffling down the hallway. he doesn’t look your way as he races around looking for his other boot, forgetting where he had slipped it off the night prior.

“hey, babe, have you seen my other shoe?” he calls out, and before you could respond, he continues, “never mind. it was under the couch...” stopping in his tracks the second he sees his dad, and immediately rushes to step in front of you.

jj was very aware of your hatred for his father. he was always aware of the fact that you would stop at nothing to see the man rot in hell. even if it meant doing it yourself or getting him sent back to jail.

“what - how did you get out?” he panics, taking notice of the blood.

“work release. good behavior. can you believe that?” the man chuckles before looking down at his own knuckles. “busted a pharmacy window. busted that pharmacist too.”

“what the fuck, luke.” you shake your head, lip curling with disgust.

“look, i gotta get out of here. that pharmacist can id me.” he pauses for a second to scope his surroundings. “i gotta get off this island. so you’ve gotta help me. i'm taking malcolm’s boat, and i need to get to the other side of the island.”

jj grits his teeth and tries to close the door, but luke stops it before the lock can clasp and pushes himself inside, grabbing jj by a fistful of his shirt. you're knocked into the wall from the sudden outburst, and as you try to get luke to let go, jj raises his hand, stopping you from interfering.

“you’re really not going to help your own blood?” luke leers toward jj, and you shudder, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from manipulating his son that was going to end well.

“absolutely not. no. no way.” you try to shut the whole thing down.

“you do this, and you will never have to see or hear from me ever again. isn't that what you want?” luke sneers in your direction, and while the idea definitely intrigues you, you didn’t want to risk getting caught by the cops.

you could see the gears turning in jj’s head as he looks from you to luke, and then back to you, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. there was a glimmer of contemplation in his eyes, but ultimately, he looks to you for guidance.

this was something that could potentially ruin your lives if you were to get caught aiding and abetting him, but it was also something that both you and jj wanted – to have him out of your lives forever.

blowing a sigh through your lips, you take in a deep breath and shake your head, unbelieving of what you were about to do. through gritted teeth, you turn to luke, “fine. what do you need?”

“you’ll help?” he looks to you with the same disbelief, and though reluctant, you nod, and he releases his grip on his son’s shirt.

“before we do anything, i want to make one thing very clear,” you step toward him, putting a divide between him and jj, who grabs a hold of your arm for safe measure. “we are not doing this for you. we are doing this for us. so don’t for a second think that you’re in control of the situation because if you so much as step one foot out of line or lay another finger on jj, i have the stations number on speed dial. got it?”

you watch as the man tenses his jaw and fights back a snarl, but he doesn’t argue. he nods before making a beeline for his bedroom to grab anything he’ll need, leaving you and jj alone.

the second he’s out of earshot, a shaky breath escapes your lips, and you suddenly feel heavier. like the weight of the world had fallen onto your shoulders and not just because of luke.

for the first time in forever, you had more than just you and jj to protect, and you were scared as to how this was going to play out.

from your side, jj’s hand brushes across your skin, and he threads his fingers through yours. he pulls you towards him, arms wrapping firmly and securely around you, “i know how much you must hate this, so thank you.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“hate isn’t anywhere near a strong enough word,” you both fall into a soft fit of laughter. “but, i'd do anything for you. even if that means helping your convict piece of shit dad get off this island.”

“i seriously don’t deserve you,” jj smiles down at you. his fingers dance across your jawline before he straightens and looks toward luke’s bedroom. “i should go see if he needs help.”

he presses another soft kiss to your lips and starts to walk away, your fingers still locked together until he’s too far and they fall apart.

it's not long before the two of them re-emerge, luke with a bag thrown over his shoulder and jj heading straight out to the shed to find a torch and some rope. you stand there in silence, arms crossed over your chest, and the entire time you can feel the man’s eyes on you - as though to be studying you.

“y’know, you really shouldn’t get your hopes up,” he almost snickers, and when he sees the unimpressed look on your face, he adds, “i’m just saying, all maybank men have a tendency to run when things get... real.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask, irritated by his crypticness.

this time when luke speaks, he stops what he’s doing and stands up straight, “nothing. i just - i take it jj doesn’t know about the pregnancy tests hidden in the back of the bathroom cupboard. y'know, the ones with the two blue lines... clear as day-”

“that is none of your business!” you cut him off as the panic of him telling jj sets in, and a shiver of fear rolls down your spine.

“like hell, it ain’t. jj is my son and that thing growing inside you is my grandbaby.” he points to your stomach.

“no, you see, that’s where you’re wrong. this baby is going to have absolutely nothing to do with you. we’re making sure of that right now by helping you leave,” you argue, your heart racing as your blood boils. “and you couldn’t be more wrong about jj. he is nothing like you. he is strong and protective, and he actually cares about those he loves. he doesn’t sit around getting wasted and taking his anger out on an innocent child, and he will certainly be a better father than a deadbeat, good for nothing, piece of shit like you!”

“you watch your mouth when you’re speaking to me,” he steps toward you, anger seething through him just as jj rushes back in through the door and pushes his dad away.

“what the hell is going on?” he demands, looking between you both but directing his words at his father.

“why don’t you ask her?” luke nudges in your direction.

jj looks at you, confusion tangled in his features.

“your dad’s just proving he is what everyone says he is...”

“and what’s that darlin’?”

“oh, i think i already covered it.”

luke urges another step towards you, but jj holds him back, “okay, that’s enough. dad, why don’t you just go wait in the car.”

“gladly.”

the two of you watch as luke disappears out the front door and slinks his way towards your car before looking back at one another. jj pulls you into his arms once more, his hands nestling the back of your head into his chest, and he heaves a sigh.

“are you going to tell me what that was about?” he asks, his voice low and soothing as he runs a finger across his brow.

“it’s nothing,” you hold him tightly before pulling away, “now, let’s get this over with.”

the drive to the docks isn’t long, but it is silent as luke sits in the back, making sure not to be seen by any pedestrians. being that it was early on a weekday, most people were at work, and so getting through to the marina wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

once you pull to a stop, jj climbs out of the passenger seat and quickly checks the status of the dock to see if the coast was clear, leaving you along with luke once again.

“listen, i know you think you’ve got it all worked out, but i promise you, i'm right on this one.” luke inches forward from the back seat. “the second he finds out that there’s a baby involved, you may as well start looking for a new baby daddy.”

“you know nothing about me or jj, and what type of man he is. but what i do know is that he doesn’t give up easily. he's stubborn like that, and he’s going to be the best father for this baby. i promise you that.”

“you keep telling yourself that, princess, but we both know that whatever it is that you two have going on is going to fizzle out, and you’re going to wish you had listened to me. hell, you probably got yourself knocked up just do he would keep you around-”

the anger from before boils up within you again, and in a swift movement, you wretch your elbow back into the man’s face. watching as he recoils from the blow and tends to his noise, but before he gets a chance to react, jj gives the signal for him to make his move.

“get out of my car,” you smile passive-aggressively.

luke groans as he exists the vehicle, fingers pressed to his nose to stop the bleeding as he meets jj halfway down the footpath. he takes in his father’s bloody nose and looks at you with wide eyes despite the fact that he wasn’t really all that surprised. you simply shrug.

“hey, luke?” you call out before he makes his way to the boat, and when he looks back to you, you shout, “go fuck yourself.”

he turns on his heel to walk back towards the car, annoyance sprawled across his face, but jj stops him and pushes him in the other direction. and the second you’re alone, you let your head fall to rest against the seat as a large sigh leaves your lips.

fifteen minutes pass, and there was still no sign of jj, though you could see him in the far distance at the end of the dock watching as the boat disappeared into the horizon. despite knowing how much jj hated luke and how he wished he was dead, he was still his father, and having to watch him leave for good was going to be tough no matter the circumstances.

you clamber out of the car, pulling your hood over your head and make your way up to the docks as jj remains still, his gaze unwavering from the water before him. and when you meet his side, he smiles though his eyes are filled with sadness.

“you okay?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

he nods, a slight chuckle leaving his lips before he sighs, “y’know, it’s funny how badly i wanted this, and now that it’s happened, i just... i feel weird.”

“it’s always hard having to say goodbye, but if it makes you feel any better… you’ll always have me.” a soft laugh falls from both of you before jj lifts his arm up and around you, pulling you in front of him.

“y’know, before he left, he said something that really got me thinking, and i know it’s probably going to sound stupid, but i have to ask. otherwise, it’s going to literally eat me up inside.” he scratches the nape of his neck, a nervous smile present.

you already knew what he was going to ask, that your little secret wasn’t so much a secret anymore, and you turn away from him. you should’ve known better than to expect luke to keep his mouth shut, but he knew this would be his last opportunity to get back at you, and he took it.

jj notices your reluctance to look at him, and with gentle movements, he cups the sides of your face and moves your gaze back to meet his. running smooth circles along your cheeks, he stares you with curious eyes, “babe... are you... are you pregnant?”

tears pool in the corners of your eyes, the guilt inside beginning to claw its way up your throat. your heart speeds up, and breathing deepens as you stare into the eyes of the boy you loved and shakily nod your head.

a soft gasp leaves him and he licks his bottom lip as his brows furrow in the center of his forehead, “how long have you known?”

“a week. a bit more,” your tears fall freely now. “i’m sorry, j. i should’ve told you the second i found out.”

he nods in a way that was him processing what you had said rather than agreeing and then returns his gaze back to the water. he remains silent for a moment before a small chuckle leaves him, “i mean, it kind of makes sense now that i think about it.”

confused, you sniffle back your tears.

“you have been a little moodier lately, and you demolished an entire pizza, and garlic bread, the other night,” he says, laughing, and you can’t help but smile.

once the laughing dies down, you ask, “you’re not mad... or freaked out?”

“are you kidding? you’re having my baby!” he looks at you with glistening eyes. they're so big you can see yourself reflected in them as he brushes your hair from your face. “this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a sigh of relief sputters from you, and your eyes glaze over with tears. the thrill of it runs down your spine, all the way to your toes, and his hands come up to brush your cheeks. “you’re sure you want to do this?”

“of course, i do. there's nothing i want more than for us to be a family, and we’re going to be the coolest parents ever. oh my, god. we can teach them to fish, and surf, and take them on rides on the hms pogue.”

it's heart-warming to see him so excited about, but he quickly stops after realising he had been rambling on while you stared at him adoringly. he clears his throat and shrugs, trying to play it off nonchalant-like, but your giggle tells him that it hadn’t worked.

“come here,” he kisses your forehead before meeting your lips, and everything you had been holding back erupts into a long, passionate kiss.

when you pull apart, he wraps an arm around your shoulders once more, leaning his head against yours, as you watch the sunset, and after a moment, he chuckles to himself. “so, i must’ve been like really good in bed, huh?”

“oh my, god,” rolling your eyes, you shrug his arm off and give him a little shove. “the quality of your performance has nothing to do with the fact that you got me pregnant. but... for your ego’s sake... yeah.”

“my ego thanks you,” he presses a hand to his chest before intertwining his fingers with yours at the same time tiny droplets of rain begin to fall from the sky. “okay, c’mon preggers. let's get you home before it starts to pour.”

“as long as you never call me that again.”

“no promises.” he scrunches up his nose as you make your way back down the dock, leaving behind all of your worries and doubts, and stepping into the next chapter of your life knowing that you and jj were going to be okay.

[haydenlovers]

FemReader x Sam Monroe and Rodrick Heffley

18+ - smut, threesome (mmf), bukkake, oral (m and f), face riding, double penetration, multiple orgasms, creampie, safe word (established but not used), praises, slight degration if you squint your eyes, swearing, pet names (princess, baby, darling.)

Word count - 2.6k

Summary - Sam and Rodrick were best friends, who lived across the street from you. You had hooked up with them both previously at separate times. But things escalate when they both find out that they’ve fucked you.

Not proof read

Enjoy :)

After a long day you stood in the shower as the warm water hit your chest, and a feeling of relief came over you. You had called Sam and he was coming over so you guys could hook up. When suddenly you hear footsteps entering your bathroom. You stare through the foggy glass as two tall slim figures stand there. You rub your eyes. “Sam?” You say.

“Yes darling?” He replies

You pop your head out of the shower to see Rodrick standing next to Sam. Shock flew over your face as they both stood there with a smug look on their face.

“So what made you call Sam and not me.” Rodrick asks.

You didn’t know the answer to that and you just stared at him blankly.

“Because, princess I can show you good time, if not better then Sam.” He smirks.

Sam punches him in the shoulder “you wish.”

“Do you think you can handle both of us.” Rodrick smirks.

You nod without a second thought.

“Use your words baby.” Sam asserted.

“Yes.” You say.

They both are quick to undress. Revealing their long thick cocks, hard and dripping with pre cum. Sam was long and veiny, with a pink tinge to it. While Rodricks was slightly shorter but thicker. It wasn’t the first time you had seen them but it felt like it.

You open the shower door to reveal your body to them leaving them breathing heavier and filling their eyes with desire. They entered the shower before Sam’s lips quickly met yours, the kiss was passionate yet sloppy, his tongue scoping out your mouth exploring as much as he could. Slowly moving down to your neck where he sucked small hickies all over. Rodrick leaned in to kiss you as Sam continued marking up your neck. Your tongues fighting, and his winning dominance easily, as one hand rested in your hair and his other grabbing your ass. Both hands in each of their hair tugging ever so lightly, as Sam explored your body with his hands and started leaving hickies on your tits. As slowly rubbing your nipple between his fingers, while his tongue swirled around the other. The kiss with Rodrick becoming more aggressive and Sam’s touch becomes more desperate. Your knees felt weak and your pussy felt wet, when all of a sudden they both pull away making you wince at the loss of their touch.

“Your safe word is ‘flower.’ If at any time you want us to stop, we will.” Sam says

Rodrick nods in agreeance. “Ok.” You reply

“Get on your knees baby.” Sam demands.

You get on your knees ands the warm water runs past Sam and Rodrick and hits your chest making your nipples hard. You hum at the sight of their lengths being so close to your face.

“Open.” Rodrick says softly as he lifts up your chin and grabs the end of his member bringing towards your mouth. As you open your mouth he gently enters his tip as you swirl your tongue around him tasting the salty pre cum. He grabs a handful of hair and lightly pulls to help guide himself further into your mouth. Hitting the back of your throat causing tears to swell in your eyes as he dragged himself back and forth inside your drooling mouth. He groans at the sensation, he bites his lip as you look up at him.

He slowly pulls away leaving your mouth empty, as Sam steps closer and smirks at you. You open your mouth and get slowly slides his thick hard member into your mouth. He grabs the back of your head and without warning he shoves his cock to the back of your throat making you gag slightly. He rocks his hips back and forth as his cock continues to abuses the back of your throat. He looks down at you and whimpers “so fucking good.”

He removes himself from your mouth, as a small string of saliva followed his member. You were unsure of who to look at, your eyes were filled with desire as they towered over you. They reached their hands to their hard ons and started stroking ever so slowly, only inches away from your face. They increased their pace, causing them to whimper. You could feel your walls clench with nothing inside, leaving you feel empty. Wanting their touch so badly. Soft whimpers left their mouth more frequently, as their veiny hands ran up and down their cocks.

“I’m gonna cum.” Rodrick moans

“Me too.” Sam grunts

Your chest felt heavy and your pussy felt wet, as you saw their dicks twitch, you knew that they were close.

“Be a good girl and open your mouth.” Sam whimpers

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue as they pump faster, hot spurts of cum spill onto your face and into your mouth as Rodrick and Sam reach their climax. Your face dripping with hot cum from your cheeks to your tits, you swallow whatever landed in your tongue, licking your lips to get another taste of their salty seed.

Sam and Rodrick stood there both out of breath. Rodrick puts a hand out to help you up, to stand under the water to rinse the remaining cum still left on your face and chest.

“Why don’t you dry off and we’ll meet you in the bedroom.” Sam whispered

You nod and head off to your bedroom with your towel barely wrapped around you. Rodrick popped his head out of the shower before saying “oh and don’t bother putting on any clothes, you won’t be needing any.”

You blush at his statement and go sit on the end of your bed fiddling with your hands as you wait for them to come out. You hear the shower stop, and footsteps approaching your bedroom. They enter with a towel wrapped around their waist showing each of their prominent v lines and happy trails leading down to the bulge below.

“Lay down baby.” Sam says as both of the boys drop their towels.

Sam comes closer to you and leaning in to kiss you. As his hands trails down your towel to find an entrance before opening it and revealing your nude body. He pulls away to look you up and down before Rodrick moves onto the bed as he rests beside you and kisses you passionately. His tongue explores your mouth, as his hands rest on your waist caressing your skin softly, while you run your fingers through his hair tugging causing his breathing to become heavier. You feel hands run up your thighs spreading your legs apart, and see that Sam is face to face with your pussy. He slowly kisses your inner thighs getting closer to your folds, as you can feel his hot breath brush against your clit. Your breathing became heavier as and the kiss with Rodrick becomes more aggressive as your tongue tries to fight for dominance. Sam licked a stripe up your folds, causing you to let out a soft whimper. He placed a gentle kiss on your clit before circling it with his tongue, and sucking it gently. Moving in such slow motions teasing you, and making you squirm. He wraps his arms under thighs to stop you moving so much. It became harder to concentrate on kissing Rodrick as Sam teased your soaking pussy. Sam pulls away without a word.

“No, please don’t stop.” You beg

Without another second his face dives back into your pussy as he starts to devour you. It was like this man was starved, and the only thing that he wanted was your pussy. Rodrick smirks at your reaction as you arch your back while Sam continues to eat you out. Rodrick nibbles at your jaw and moves down to your neck leaving more marks as he gently sucks your skin. Sam’s tongue moving faster around your clit, he slips one finger in your entrance curling it teasingly. Rodrick cupped your tit thumbing your nipple, while he sucked on the other. Sam slipped another finger in curling it in the perfect place, you grabbed Sam’s hair harshly causing him to groan against you. Pleasure coursed throughout your body as his tongue swirled around your clit, while wet sounds and moans filled the room. Tension started to built in your stomach, as Sam added another finger, causing you to arch your back. Rodrick continued marking up your tits, leaving love bites all over going back and forth between each of your nipples sucking on them harshly, making them hard. Moans left your mouth as you felt your stomach become tight.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” You moan

“That’s it baby cum on his face.” Rodrick says.

You reach your climax as your juices spill out onto Sam’s face, trying to catch your breath. He pulled his fingers from your entrance and licked then clean humming at the taste of you. Rodrick sat up and lifted you onto his lap, he laid down and placed his hands on your hips grasping them firmly. While Sam moved and sat behind Rodrick looking you up and down with desperation.

“I want you to ride my face.” Rodrick pleas

“I-“

“Full body weight I want to feel your pussy grinding on my face till you cum.” Rodrick interrupts.

You comply and move up so your pussy is hovering over his face. You can feel his breathing become more rapid as you lower yourself down, putting your full body weight on him as you face Sam. Rodricks hands rest on your ass, rubbing his thumbs gently to feel your soft skin. Sam placed his hands on your waist guiding you.

“Come on baby. Ride his face.” Sam demands

He moves your hips in a slow back and forth motion as your clit brushes against Rodrick’s nose. Slowly picking up the pace as you feel Rodrick tonguing your entrance, and groaning as it sends vibration up your whole body. Sam continues to move your hips as he leans in and kisses your neck, moving up to your mouth. He lightly bit your lip and you moan at the sensation. Now pacing faster and faster as you ride Rodrick’s face. Causing you to whimper and moan into Sam’s mouth as his tongue explored your mouth, you could taste yourself on him. Rodricks breath hitting your wet pussy, as you dripped all over his face. His face as the perfect seat. As his nose hit your clit in the right place causing your orgasm to built up quickly. The familiar feeling in your stomach caused you to, squeeze your thighs against Rodrick’s face as you became closer to your climax. Your movement became faster and moans became louder. The squelching sound of your pussy against his face causing him to moan.

“You doing so good.” Sam says in your mouth. His hands still rested your hips encouraging you. The tension released as you reach your climax and your cum spilling onto Rodrick face. You sat still for a second to gather your thoughts, slowly hopping up to see Rodrick’s face dripping in your slick, and just sitting down beside him.

“You did so good.” Rodrick praises

You and Rodrick trying catching your breath as Sam asks “Do you think you can come on more time for us.”

“Yes.” You say still out of breath.

“How do you want it.” He asks

“I want to take both of you at the same time.” You pry. Desire fills your eyes, and your body feels hot.

“Come on then.” Rodrick still lays beside you, hinting for you to sit on his cock. You face backwards hovering above Rodrick hard dick. He gathers some of your slick, putting it into your asshole. He lathers some lube onto his member, before grabbing your hips to line you up and lowing you down onto his cock, as soft moans left you mouth as each inch slowly filled you up, stretching out your tight ass. Rodrick pulled your waist back hinting at you to lay down. You followed and layer down resting your head in the nudge of his shoulder, he placed a gently kiss your head. Placing his hands on your hips, moving them towards your thighs to open them up. Sam comes forward and hovers over you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Just let us know if it’s too much, alright?” Sam assures

You nod.

“Use your words darling.” Rodrick whispers

“Alright.” You say

He lines himself up with your entrance, and slowly pushes his tip in. Moaning at the sensation as each inch made you feel more and more full. Until his cock was fully submerged in your soaking pussy, giving you a moment to adjust to the fullness of both other big cocks inside you.

“Let us know when you’re ready baby.” Sam exclaims

“I’m ready.” You say.

Sam starts thrusting slowly only dragging a small amount of inches in and out, before picking up the pace and making his thrusts deeper and harder. Rodrick thrusts from under neath you causing friction to arise. You had never felt so full, Sam fat cock brushed against your cervix. His motion becoming faster making you moan. The sounds of skin slapping, moans, and the sound of your wet pussy filled the room. Your fingers wrapped in Sam’s hair, pulling as he went deeper. Aggression started to built as each of their thrusts synced and became harder. Rodrick whimpering in your ear as Sam groaned while thrusting into you. You to arched your back. Sam’s groans became louder, as Rodricks whimpers became more intense. The sound you were all making was borderline pornographic. You could feel every inch of them hitting the right spot, your walls clenching around them, making you moaning mess. Your orgasm already building up.

“Fuck- feel so fucking good.” Rodrick whimpers

“Taking us so well baby.” Sam moans

You swear could have come from those words alone. Their thrusts in sync, abusing your sopping cunt and tight ass. Rodrick hands gripping your hips firmly causes them to bruise slightly. Pulling you up and slamming you back down as he thrusted into you so his cock was buried deep inside you. Sam’s hands resting on your waist, making sure your back was arched so he could get as deep as possible.

“M’gonna come.” You moan

“That’s it baby come.” Sam says

The build up and tension in your some arose quickly, your breathing becoming heavier and moans becoming louder. Your legs shaking at the anticipation, as Sam and Rodrick continued stuffing you.

“Fuck I’m getting close.” Rodrick groaned

You could feel their dicks twitching inside you, as your orgasm took over and pleasure coursed throughout your whole body and slick spilled onto Sam’s cock. Rodrick moans as he fills your ass up with his hot seed. Sam following as his cum spills out of your pussy as you come down from your climax. Sam keeps his dick in its place for a moment before pulling it out to reveal your swollen pussy leaking.

“Look so pretty.” Sam says looking at your juices mixed oozing out of your cunt. Rodrick lifting you up to remove himself, as his cum seeped out. He laid to the other side of you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “You did so good for us.” He whispers

Sam faces you and places a kiss your lips, trying to sneakily slip his tongue in. “Took us so well.” He smiled “why don’t we go get you cleaned up.”

You smiled simply not knowing what to say about what just happened.

Please let me know what you think. I don’t write smut often so I hope you like it :)

I also didn’t know how to end it, so I’m so sorry

[moondirti]

Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch. 

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit. 

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…” 

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.” 

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here. 

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in. 

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction. 

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.” 

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting. 

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.” 

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home. 

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm. 

So, you give them your name. 

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too. 

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night. 

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all. 

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?” 

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.” 

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond. 

“I- Yeah. I promise.” 

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet. 

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

[unconventional-lawnchair]

A Second Chance pt.1 {Blurb}

Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au

New Perspective Noah Kahan

Masterlist

Summary: You find a group of survivors who could really use your help}

Cw; Guns, death, animal death, hunting, cussing, minor character death, insinuations of abuse (reader is worried about Lily alone with the boys), Zombie apocalypse typical violence, reader is crushing on Lily, infants)

Wc- 2091

In the heart of the wilderness, there was a serene and tranquil grove. Tall, majestic trees stood like sentinels; their branches reached towards the sky. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a gentle glow on the moss-covered ground below. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the refreshing scent of earth and pine, it was getting later.

There was suddenly a sharp and ear-piercing shot that rang out. You lifted your head from the scope of the ancient rifle, looking across the beautiful thicket, and eyes falling on the limp body of your prize.

You had been at it for hours, avoiding the doe’s, knowing they had young hidden deep within the grass, much like yourself now. You stood up, lifting the bandana over your nose and hurried down the hill you were perched on. Pulling out your carvers knife as you got to work on the old buck at your feet.

“I'm telling you, it was a gunshot.” You heard whispers from behind you, the sound of fresh grass making way to footsteps. Two of them. 

You quickly packed your plastic lined pouch and turned around, training your gun on the approaching forms behind you.

“Fuck-”

“What did I tell you!?”

There were two men. Great. Men. This close to your hideout? You needed to make your next move count. You could let them go, and risk them coming back to find you. You could shoot them both now and waste your very limited ammo. You could escort them out of the area but that would waste a day of travel. She couldn't wait. Your eyes scanned over their figures. The first one you saw had long black hair, a thin frame, tattooed pale skin and seemed to be the more pissed of the two. Seemed to be the one who heard the gunshot too. The other one was definitely taller, he had thick brown hair and startling hazel eyes. He seemed to be more of a threat out of the two, with his broader build and definitely gave the impression he was in charge.

You turned your gun to aim it at the taller one. His breath hitched and they both stared at you in panicked fear. “Wait wait wait.” He quickly pleaded, hands up and taking a small step back. 

“Don't move or I'm pulling the trigger.” You threatened and he winced.

The black haired boy moved to step in front of him, but you cocking your gun seemed to knock some sense into him. 

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded. “I have a son, he's only a few weeks old. We have two other men in the group who are bedridden and injured. My wife is still recovering. We can't risk it.”

His pleading made your heart stop. It was so familiar it made your body ache.

~~~

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded with the men in front of him. The camp was ransacked and some of the tents were set ablaze.

You and Regulus had made your way out of the camp late at night. You were going out patrolling, unable to sleep, and as usual, Regulus didn't want you going alone. 

On your way out Barty joined you. So of course, Evan wanted to tag along as well. You attempted to convince them that one able bodied person should stay behind. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had just brought a beautiful baby girl into the world, so Mr. Granger was hardly focused on watching the camp. 

A few others were there to watch over as well, but it was a big camp, and they needed all the help they could get. Evan teased you for your worry, no one had even passed your location in days. He still, however, promised to stay close to camp with Barty to patrol. Leaving you and Regulus to walk along the outermost parts of the camp.

Regulus eventually headed back, you stayed out. You loved the idea that people were still growing their lives even in such a desperate situation. But God, that baby did not know how to shut up. She was precious, from a distance.

You regretted that night.

You regretted so much of it.

When you made your way back the smell of burning flesh hit your nose first. You had to hold back the bile in your throat. You had come to be familiar with the stench of rot, but not when it was set ablaze.

You ran to camp and heard the commotion. You were gone for no more than ten minutes, and the sight of the dead bodies of your friends around you would be permanently etched into your mind. 

You couldn't focus on anything through the chaos, until you heard Mr.Granger pleading. He had his hands up, standing outside one of the only standing tents left. You snuck around, taking in the situation from outside of your clearly useless walls. He was cornered, four men around him while one of them held the arm of Mrs. Granger like a vice, taunting her husband.

You made eye contact with Mrs. Granger and hers widened. You slowly reached for your gun and her expression shifted to pure desperation. She kept glancing at the tent and your heart fell. Hermione was still in there.

You took a deep breath and cursed. Hurrying to sneak behind the tent and cut into it from the back. You gathered what you could, what little you were able to scavenge from towns for Hermione as well. You heard two gunshots, but you didn't want to think about it. Quickly covering Hermione’s mouth with your hoodie to keep her cries muffled.

You didn't look back, running as far away from the camp as possible. You came back the next morning and eventually managed to find your own supplies and one of the several cars they seemed to have left behind. Worrying they may come back for it, you packed up what you could and left in the dinghy vehicle.

That was only a month ago.

~~~

You couldn't do it. You couldn't pull the trigger. You slowly sighed and lowered your gun, much to the startled surprise of both boys. There was a loaded silence between you three before you bit your lip. Looking down at your bag you gestured to the venison on the ground. “You can have what’s left. I can only carry so much.”

“W-what?” The black haired boy muttered out and the brunette seemed to lighten up at your offer. Eyebrows raised and mouth slack.

“On one condition. I want to know where your camp is. And.. I want to meet the mother.” You gestured to the deer again, as if to entice them, and the brunette narrowed his eyes in confusion but the other seemed to catch on. Giving a firm nod and walking over to the buck. You flinched heavily to the side so as to not be too close to him.

“What's your name?” The taller boy asked and you snapped your attention to him. You creased your brow in suspicion but, what could they really do with just your name?

“{Y/N}.”

“{Y/N}? Nice to meet you. My name is James.” He introduced and offered his hand, You simply stared at him and he cleared his throat and tried to play off the obvious rejection. “A-and this is Sirius!” 

Said boy, Sirius, finally managed to get the deer over his shoulder before gesturing in front of him for you. “I’d rather stay behind you.” You huffed and he gave a brief nod. Turning with a hmph as he steadied the kill on his shoulder. 

~~~

You quickly learned, in your brief walk, just how much James seemed to like talking. You were starting to genuinely believe that he wasn't a threat, but more wondering how on god's green earth he survived this long with a trap like that.

Sirius, on the other hand, was quiet for the most part. He would ask you questions to gauge how comfortable you were and how much you were willing to share with them. Mostly nothing.

When you passed by a certain stick standing in the ground, James gestured ahead. You peaked past him and saw the camp. 

It was decent, but exposed. A large tent you assumed housed all of them, with a table and a campfire, the set up even allowed for the most sight around them. It was certainly temporary. The thought comforted you, but the idea they were traveling with an infant made you nervous.

“This is all?” You asked in a not intentionally condescending tone.

Sirius brushed past you and walked into the center of the clearing, dropping the load and standing up with a stretch. The tent door opened and you fixed your grip on the rifle, James grabbing the barrel and lowering it, earning a glare from you. Out limped a rather tall boy. Tanned skin, scar ridden, messy sandy blonde hair, and a clearly mangled leg. You took a deep breath. 

Okay, they housed the injured and kept them around. The leader of the group was rather charming but that could go both ways. You needed to see the girl.

As if he could read your thoughts, Sirius spoke up and drew Remus’s startled expression from you. “Remus, can you get Lily?”

“She's reading to Harry.” Who you assumed to be Remus muttered and glanced back at you. Sirius shook his head. “Just a moment.”

Remus eyed you for a second before he peaked back into the tent and muttered something. Eventually, a tall red head stepped out of the beige shelter and she looked at Sirius, clearly annoyed. “What? I just got Harry down.”

“We have a visiter. Wants to make sure you aren't being held here against your will.” Sirius cheeked and you gave a glare his way, he simply winked back. Much more playful in his own domain.

“What?” Lily muttered and looked up at you. Your eyes locked for a moment and her jaw rolled as she sized you up. You suddenly felt extremely self conscious. Then, the most dazzling smile appeared on her face. “You wanted to check on me? How old are you sweetness?”

Her tone gave you such a rush of comfort you didn't even think before you spoke. “N-nineteen,” You whispered and she placed a hand over her chest and cooed at you. “You're just a baby. Are you alone?”

“No, not… not really.”

Merlin, her voice was like a siren song. Your shoulders went limp and the gun lowered. James gave a knowing smirk and Sirius looked offended at your compliance with Lily’s questioning. How does she do that?

“Shouldn't you be heading back? Someone must be looking for you.” She fretted and you tried to steady your breath. Remus looked between you two and slowly settled against the base of a tree with a wince.

“N-not yet, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You mumbled before you looked at James. He was smirking at you. He was smirking at you like your friend would in elementary before declaring he knew who your crush was. 

You snapped out of your trance and quickly took a few steps back. “Actually-”

Your remark was interrupted by a loud bout of thunder. You looked to the sky with the rest of the group and you heard a loud cry from inside the tent. You felt your stomach drop. You could care less about the boys, but you couldn't leave a week old child in the middle of a thunderstorm.

You watched as the tend opened again and a sickly, pale boy stepped out. He was taller than you with a bit of a belly, he seemed friendly to a fault, a small smile growing on his sleepy face. Lily walked over to him and picked up Harry with a thank you to Peter.

“We need to get to some serious shelter soon.” James huffed and you looked around at the worry on everyone’s faces. You finally let your morals win  over your common sense.

“I have a place.” You mumbled and Lily looked at you, startled.

“Honey, you really shouldn’t offer up-”

“I know, I know. Just..” You looked at Harry and Lily slowly smiled. She looked at the rest of the group and nodded. Peter seemed startled as he just noticed your presence, James seemed surprised just like Sirius. Remus seemed in distress, rubbing his leg as the storm grew closer. 

“We would love your help.”

[ot3]

Just curious, what’s your opinions on Kristoph and Phoenix? I see you reblog ship posts about them sometimes and I’m really curious about your opinions on their dynamic both inside and outside of ship stuff, because I didn’t really know how to interpret Kristoph in particular. I think he’s one of the worse villains in AA tbh, it’s been a while so I may be misremembering, but I just didn’t… get that much substance from him?

kristoph is certainly a really hard character for me to fully develop an opinion on in isolation. i think the only area where i'm capable of saying anything about him i can back up with significant references to the text is in regard to his relationship with phoenix, because that's where the meat of his character interactions are. and more broadly because as a #phoenixhead my primary means of looking at the entire franchise is how things relate to phoenix. if you'd like to read about my interpretation of phoenix and kristoph's relationship more specifically i've got a post on that subject here. i think it's a character dynamic that has a TON going for it relative to the screentime if you're able to disregard fanon and look directly at what's in the text.

but more on kristoph individually

kristoph suffers from the same thing that all of aa4's major characters and plotlines do: not getting another game. there was clearly more to the gavin brothers' story we didn't get and will never get, and knowing that there's Something there we have absolutely no means of predicting or unraveling makes it hard to theorize. he kind of exists in a quantum state for me where i can see a ton of alternate perspectives on his character's complexities and just buy whichever one i'm feeling at a given moment. i personally wouldn't say he lacks substance because every interaction he has with any other character is, imo, very compelling and gives me a lot to chew on. but he's a character that's all questions and no real conclusions for sure.

i don't think he's a cackling machiavellian serial abuser. i think hes easily the kind of person who has the capacity to be emotionally abusive and manipulative to the people closest to him without being Pure Evil. because we have so little on him it's very easy to portray kristoph as the kind of sinister that provides whatever OP's favorite flavor of angst is. and i'm certainly no exception to that; i just happen to be a person who is into maybe some subtler flavors.

he's both one of ace attorney's most calculated villains, with poisoning vera's nailpolish being an incredibly cold maneuver that suggests a lot of foresight, and one of ace attorney's most brutal murderers, capable of getting aggressive enough in a moment to bludgeon a man to death with a bottle. i think kristoph can be understood as a character whose primary motivation is control, both over himself and others. there's that critical line in turnabout succession where he tells klavier he's out of control, and klavier says "whos control? mine, or yours?" his reputation is built on his ability to stay calm under pressure, and his ability to stay calm under pressure is built on his tendencies to preemptively engineer situations in his favor. the stuff with phoenix and the gramarye case represents what we can presume to be the biggest failure of his career.

i think this puts him very much in line with AA1's main villains. people like to compare him to dahlia a lot for obvious reasons and there's some fun to be had there but i think it lets people overlook how well he ties into AA1. redd white controlled the press and controlled the judges to get away with his blackmail ring. von karma controlled the witnesses to engineer his perfect cases. damon gant controlled the police and the evidence, and then controlled lana to control the prosecution. although those were all one-case villains i think kristoph justifies his larger scope in aa4 by the significant and longstanding personal connections he has to the rest of the main cast. kristoph represents the mirror image of those AA1 villains; aa1 shows the way the deck is stacked against the defense. kristoph shows what it looks like when someone tries to stack it in the other direction

i think kristoph plays an important part in the larger franchise by showing what corruption looks like from the defense's bench, and how this corruption takes a different cadence when it lacks the systemic power that the villains like gant had. i think his cold, calculated approach to defense works well as a foil to the type of defending we saw from phoenix who is all heart and charges in head first. i think apollo works well representing a sort of compromise between the two, being a little bit shrewder than phoenix but no less earnest. i think klavier, then, as a prosecutor who is much less aggressive than the previous 3 both personally and professional serves to further invert the expectations set by the trilogy in a way that's really satisfying.

is kristoph missing some pretty critical backstory that i would love to see? yeah. absolutely. but i think when you look at him as a story device rather than an underdeveloped character he adds a tonnnnn to the series. that said, i will die wondering.

[junespriince]

Winged heart au

Wally, walking out of his bedroom, in Nightwing gifted PJ set: Nightwing, it's 3am I swear to— ah shit it's the rest of the clowns, is.... My window!? You broke it!

Jason, to Tim: see, he's exactly his type, pay up.

Tim, fishing out his wallet: well his driver's license ain't flattering I thought he was fugly.

Wally: insulting me in my own damn home, AND BROKE MY WINDOW! you're paying for this, or I'm sueing.

Damian, at Wally's turtle terrarium: good size, good bedding, looks healthy. Well, I like him for his excellent reptile care, he may date Nightwing.

Bruce: we can't decide that on reptile care, he could be a villain.

Wally: I'm about to be, stop eating my food! Get out!!

Duke, eating warmed up leftovers: damn he can cook, Nightwing needs to bag him before I do.

Bruce: no... You're 16...

Cass: plus, Wing will kill you if you take his man

Steph: def def, but dibs on coming here for breakfast!

Wally: no! No dibs!! Leave!!

Dick: hey babygirl... Why are you guys here.

Jason: scoping out our new brother in law, duh.

Steph: babygirl? Really?? Jesus you're a simp.

Wally: that's it! I'm calling my mom.

Jason: ha! We know your not in contact with your abusive bios.

Wally, on the phone: I wasn't talking about her.

Bruce, knows Iris: ... Shit shit shit get me out of here the kevlar not strong enough against that woman!

Iris, bust through the door: Batman, what the hell did I just told you about bothering my baby boy!?

Bruce, trying to get out but kids in the way: IT WAS THEM THEY DRAGGED ME WITH THEM PLEASE, HAVE MERCY!

Jason: damn, no loyalty with this man.

Barry: not when it's Iris.

[yeet-noir]

Wait people actually believe Gabriel was redeemed in the end? He manipulated people up to his dying breath and wished to be seen as a hero. I know the ending seemed strange, but it definitely did so purposefully. This was a set up for the conflict next season not a wrap up of his arc.

I get the initial shock, but this show never held back on the abusive nature of Gabriel. In season 5 alone the total shift of Gabriel was idgaf about my son’s happiness and being mad at his lack of control he has on him. The last thing he did was control Adrien’s perspective of him. He went from wanting to be with his wife to being completely power hungry. His power hunger lead to Gimmi granting his desires.

And if that still isn’t enough to comfort people just remember that every season ends with a set up for the conflict that will follow in the next season:

Season 1 finale introduced Lila as an antagonist interested in the Miraculous and Marinette’s personal life which lead to Lila’s arc start which more so carried out in later seasons.

Season 2 finale introduced Mayura and Ladybug, Chat Noir the other heroes had their first epic fight beyond the scope of villain of the week. This lead to the introduction of sentimonsters and Mayura’s arc which heavily carried out in season 3.

Season 3 finale was another epic fight, but this time against Hawkmoth and Mayura. Master Fu’s identity becomes compromised leading to him passing down his guardianship to Marinette. This introduced Marinette’s guardian arc and season 4 heavily focused on her struggles with being one and maintaining peace with Chat Noir. This season also ended with both the love square “moving on” from one another which in turn caused season 4 to focus on their alternative ships.

Season 4 finale ended with Ladybug loosing the miraculous after being swindled by Felix. Felix offering a trade off with Gabriel for the Peacock miraculous. We literally ended with Ladybug having a mental breakdown and Chat Noir comforting her. This introduced the Monarch arc. Season 5 dealt with the consequences of this mistake.

So what I am trying to say each season finale ends with something that makes you wonder what will happen next. It never ends with a final conclusion only introduction to the next big arc. Seeing a weird reality where Gabriel is remembered as a hero despite us seeing him as villainous as ever to the very end isn’t his conclusion it’s a new arc.

[bboricha]

rule breaker

➳ 🚫 mdni ➳ pairings: college!scaramouche x afab!reader ➳ synopsis: you cannot believe that he convinced you to do this. fucking in the library again, you mean. part 1 (both can be read as standalone pieces) ➳ wc: ~700 ➳ cw: not proofread, exhibitionism, unprotected, scara has a tongue piercing, he's referred to as "kuni," lmk if i missed anything

you told him that last time this happened, it would be the only time and now look at you. sitting on his lap, hugging him close to yourself so that anyone walking by would simply write the two of you off as an overly expressive couple displaying PDA. though, it would take just a little bit of interest for anybody to realize that he’s slightly thrusting up, fucking his girthy length into your cunt as you quietly whine against his neck. a little bit of interest just to take a look at your face and see the hearts and stars fluttering over your eyes as you use his shirt to muffle your sounds.

it wasn’t your fault! you couldn’t help it! especially not when he suspiciously sat next to you and placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing the flesh and slowly moving upwards and under your skirt, playing with the hem of your panties until his hand happened to slip under. and especially not when he starts rolling your clit against the tips of his fingers, dipping another finger into your dampening hole. and when he starts abusing that gummy part that he knows you love? you just simply cannot be blamed for falling for his capable fingers and antics yet once again.

you know that the chances of someone coming to the corner where your table sat between old documents and boring manuscripts laced with dust were practically zero to none, but your heart can’t help but thump every time you hear a noise coming from somewhere other than the two of you. it was hard to stay focused on someone catching you both though, kuni made sure to keep your attention on him. he’d kiss you, nip at your neck, tease your nipples, flick your clit, or give a particularly hard thrust that almost makes you squeal. you can’t tell if that’s just him being needy or telling you that it’ll be fine and to look at him instead, but regardless it makes your heart thump in a different kind of way.

“i’m not sure what you like the best—you seem to tighten up at everything i do,” he laughs breathily. you flush at the bluntness of his words, about to pull away from the hug until he removes his hands from your hips to hug you back instead, keeping you in place. you’re about to protest when you hear voices nearing and you freeze. he puts your head down against his shoulder, holding it there when you hear footsteps quickly passing by your heart racing a mile a minute. you squeeze against him at the sound as he softly grunts in response. the footsteps are now fading and you cautiously lift your head, scoping the area to make sure the both of you are alone again.

“i really think you have a preference for this,” he smirks and you hit him.

“i swear this is really the last time we’re doing this,” you hiss, about to open your mouth again to argue more until he kisses you, shutting you up promptly. you haven’t even noticed him taking off his glasses to do so, the thought immediately interrupted by the feeling of his piercing against your own tongue. thrusting again, you moan into his mouth. he’s right, honestly. the thrill is almost irreplaceable, but you’d rather go celibate for the rest of your life than to admit that to him out of all people. all of a sudden, kuni grinds against you as you bite back a whine, clutching onto his sweater to ground yourself.

“baby,” he groans out, his voice is raspy and the sudden use of a pet name makes your cunt throb, “it’d be in your best interest to keep your eyes on me.” his thrusts are getting sloppy as he brings a hand towards your clit, rubbing fast figure eights against it. you can feel the coil in your stomach winding so much that it’s close to snapping, the sensation making it harder to contain your noises.

“where?” he asks, his pace unrelenting as you recklessly mutter “inside,” pulling his face close to yours to pull him into another kiss. he gives one last flick to your clit, making the coil snap as you convulse around his cock. holding you down against him, he releases his warmth inside of you, groaning against your neck. he breathes heavily into your shirt as you both come down from your highs quietly. you’re thinking about how to run to the bathroom to clean yourself up before anything could leak out until he opens up his dumb mouth asking,

“wanna go again?”

➳ an: inspired instantly by this. thank you to this artist for this. thank you. he is so fine. i do not know how to act.

[drewsarms]

Fresh Meat

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི these two… need them bad. I was inspired by this post and this post . Maybe I’ll turn this into a series! Feel free to send me any asks!! I’d love to answer them! Hope you enjoy!!

𐙚 frat!!jj x inexperienced!naive!reader x frat!john b

𐙚 warnings: slight substance abuse, slight manipulation, 18+ mdni!!!

“Oh come on,” your friend states with a little excitement and annoyance. “We have to go out at some point. Besides this is the biggest party of the year!” College had just started for the two of you. It hadn’t even been a full week and already the whole school was going insane about some party. “I don’t know girl. I mean we don’t even know a lot of people.” “And that’s the point. We’re here to meet new people & have a good time. Besides you never really had the chance to go out and now you have all this freedom.” You hated to admit it but in a way she was right. Your parents had been super strict on you all through high school. They never let you party and your curfew was 10pm. You sigh looking at her as she’s finishing her makeup. “It’ll be so much fun!” She looks at you through the mirror giving you a reassuring smile. “Whose party is it anyway?” “It’s those two really hot guys. JJ Maybank and John B.” You heard of them. Seen them around. From the looks of it they seemed like nothing but trouble. Always looking for a fresh new girl to invite to their parties and later bring them to their dorm. You sat there and thought about it some more. Unsure if you should even associate yourself with guys like them. But the more you thought about it the more you realized it was time to have some fun. How bad could it be, right?

The night was wild. The loud music blared through your ears as you reached the huge house. People laying on the grass from having too much to drink, cups sprawled everywhere, guys cat calling the two of you. It took everything in you not to want to call an Uber and go home. “Please don’t leave my side,” you say to your friend as the two of you make your way to the back where everyone was. It was definitely the biggest party of the year. It seemed as if the whole college was there and maybe even more people. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks I’ll be right back!” You grip onto your friend’s hand. Giving her a daring look to not leave you. You knew as soon as she saw a boy cute enough she’d forget all about you. And that’s exactly what happened. Standing alone and scoping the scene you start to hear a bunch of commotion. “Look it’s the life of the party!” “Yo! JJ. John B let’s take a picture!” After a few seconds you turn around, feeling a huge presence over you. It’s them. The two boys all the girls rave about and god do you see why. The blonde has a bottle of alcohol in his hands with shades so dark you couldn’t see his eyes. And the brunette…his thick curly hair and brown eyes caught your attention. He seemed sweet, smiling while looking at you. “Well what do we have here?” The blonde says walking closer to you. You quickly look down at your feet feeling out of place. “JJ. Be nice,” the brunette says as he steps foward. “Relax. I just want know who she is. What’s your name sweetheart?” They were both so good looking it was hard for you to maintain eye contact. The way their skin looked so tan against the neon lights and the backwards cap the brunette had on made you dizzy. “I-I’m… my name is y/n.” Your nervousness made both of them chuckle. “It’s alright we don’t bite.” The brunette says trying to make you feel somewhat safe. “I’m John B and this is my friend JJ.” You look over at JJ who’s clearing staring at you through those shades. John B looks around as if he’s looking for someone else. “You came here alone?” “Uh, no my friend. She’s…well she’s somewhere.” You try looking around for her but she was nowhere in sight. “It’s okay sweetheart we don’t bite. I’m the nice one. My friend here…” he says putting his hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Well he’s the one you have to watch out for.” Your whole body went cold as JJ took off his glasses. Those blue eyes piercing right through you. “I’m nice to y’know… I won’t bite…unless you want me too,” he says smirking making your whole body blush. “Why don’t you come sit down with us?” John B suggests. Now, you know you shouldn’t have but you couldn’t stop your body from following theirs and you didn’t want to look awkward standing alone. As you sit between them looking down at your legs, fidgeting with your fingers, you can feel their eyes watching your every move. Like they were hungry and hadn’t had anything for days. JJ scoots closer to you making you move unto John B’s lap a little and place your hand on his thigh for leverage. JJ hands you the bottle he’d been drinking from. A little hesitant as you hadn’t ever touched that stuff, you looked over at the blonde who looks like he could rip you up in seconds. “Go ahead, have a little sip,” JJ says. That devilish smirk peering on his face. You take a sip, face turning into disgust as the burn from the drink moves down into your chest. “That’sss a good little girl,” JJ mumbles loud enough for you to hear. Then you turn your head to the brunette. His sweet brown eyes looking at you making you feel small. Your needy eyes staring at him, hoping he’d make JJ stop influencing you. “Just relax sweetheart,” John B says. The back of his hand slowly glides along the side of your neck moving your hair behind your ear. His lips press against your ear lobe as he places a slow, sweet kiss against it earning a whimper from your lips. They both chuckle against your skin. “Ohhh, we’re going to take such good care of you,” John b says while his tongue slowly licks your ear as JJ presses sweet, alcoholic kisses against your cheek. “You have…no idea.”

taglist: @shawtycoreee @nemesyaaa @drewstarkeys-world @starfxkrreloaded

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; blood; murder

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: The end. 4047 words.

1987 The new year

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

Mel nodded. “She will.”

He looked at their creation; it had to be perfect. Eddie wasn’t sure a thing like him was capable of perfection, but for you, he’d try. “Thank you,”

“No problem,” Mel replied, nonchalance in tone but Eddie knew her better than that.

“I mean it, Melissa. You’re a good friend to her. To me.”

Mel squirmed under Eddie’s serious gaze. She blushed, shrugging, and turning to leave.

“Just before you go!” Eddie rushed to say. “I, ah… I heard that you had discovered how Steve Harrington came to haunt you?”

Her head tilted in reply, just a curious small movement that meant to ask how he’d heard about it.

“Hailey mentioned it… Said you’d been working with Ev on…” Eddie paused, unsure what to call it. “Death… craft?”

Mel almost laughed. “Some of us know our magic early. We figure out our abilities. Others… like me… Haven’t entirely grasped the scope of what we can do… I, apparently, channel ghosts… Or something like that,”

“Something like that,” he repeated. “And, the door is open now?”

Steve Harrington’s ghost did a lot of things. One of them was leaving a door between the living and the dead open. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, that particular door existed somewhere within Mel.

Mel considered Eddie’s questions. The painfully earnest and hopeful expression on his face. He looked almost human.

“I don’t know how it works. I can’t control it properly. If that’s what you’re asking for,” she told him.

Eddie nodded and looked down at the wet grass. He kicked at it a little, droplets flicking around. It would dry soon, under their creation. The January cold rendered unaffecting.

“I… I thought you never really had…”

“A family? Anyone who cared about me?” Eddie finished for Mel. She winced at his bitterness. “Sorry… I did not mean for that to come out like that… My mother died having me. She’s who… I thought maybe…”

If any of the other witches had been standing in Mel’s place, they would have been offering already. They would have been consoling or planning or promising. But it wasn’t them. It was Mel. And Mel did what she did best. She listened.

“If she is there… Wherever there is. On the other side. If she’s there and has always been there, I want to make sure she sees this. I need to know she didn’t see what I had become and turn away in shame. I need her to know that…” Eddie’s jaw clenched. He felt raw and exposed. “I want her to know…”

Mel approached Eddie like he was an injured animal. She was intuitive; she knew that was exactly what he was. Slowly, she put her hand on his arm. “We can try. I’ll try.”

…

You frowned at the tiny white petals. How they formed dozens of flowers. And how the flowers grouped together and grew wildly. Yarrow. Yarrow was growing from your bed. Following the stem down to the wooden frame, you found no glue or magic trick. Yarrow was, very literally and quite suddenly, growing from your bed.

“Do you know anything about this?” you asked Eddie when he wandered into the room.

“I thought it was you,”

“Why would it be me?”

He snorted. “Because you are constantly gardening in unorthodox places,”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Eddie loved the surprised and confused expression on your face. Sometimes you knew yourself well. Other times, not at all. He detoured from what he was doing to pull you into a hug.

“Perhaps it is an omen,”

“Not one that I know of,”

“And, of course, you do know all,” he teased.

He loved the faux-annoyed squeaking sound you made. He loved how you melted into him, still eyeing the yarrow suspiciously. God, he loved you.

“Speaking of mysterious,” you said, pushing off him with your palms flat to his chest. “What were you and Mel doing this morning?”

“I accompanied her on her morning walk. You know what happens to her back if she doesn’t go on her muscle tension walks.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and hummed. “Once is happenstance. Two is a coincidence. But three… If one more out of the ordinary thing comes to pass…”

“You’ll what?” Eddie poked, shaking his head at you. It was difficult to hide anything from you, but he could not wait to tell Kelsey about the yarrow. She had been right.

You said nothing, just trust-fell back into his arms. 

“I asked her about what she’s been doing with Ev,” Eddie confessed. He kicked himself for not thinking of the cover sooner. Nothing worked better than the truth.

“The ghost stuff?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about my mother.”

That got your attention. You stepped out of the hug again.

“Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like I’m a poor broken bat once more,”

“That’s not what I think of you. You know that,”

“And yet you look wounded on my behalf,” he stated bluntly.

You nodded. “Sorry. I’m sorry… Um… Can she do it? Mel?”

Eddie shrugged. “She doesn’t know. She’ll try.”

You nodded again. “Can I ask… why? Or… maybe… What do you want to ask your mother?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing I can ask of her. I just want her to know that this is it.” Eddie gestured to himself as he spoke.

“You mean you? That this is your… final form, so to speak?”

“Yeah… And it would be… nice… to meet her. And for her to meet you.”

The room was quiet for only a second. Then, “If it doesn’t work with Mel, I can try. We can-”

Eddie silenced you with a kiss. The conversation didn’t need to happen. He knew you’d go to the ends of your magic for him. And nothing about that was taken for granted.

…

The sun was only just rising on the final day of January. It had been a cold winter. Snow had fallen on Hawkins in blankets, not thawing even when the weatherman promised it would. You would not let Hawkins burn anymore, so you cleansed it with water instead.

Eddie had spent the night asleep, curled up in his bat form with you. As the bedroom slowly lit up, you mumbled out the spell and he was back in his body.

“My love,” he whispered, lips cool on your neck. “I sensed your sleep was alive with story,”

“That-” a yawn, “-is a very dramatic way of asking if I dreamt. Almost Shakespearian,”

“You dreamt a dream tonight?”

“Yes, but dreamers often lie,” you recited back.

“In bed asleep, while they do dream things true,”

“Alright. End scene. Besides… I don’t think you want my dream to come true. You were in it and you were not happy,” you told him, wriggling yourself backward to be as spooned into him as possible.

“Do tell.”

It took a moment to catch the sleeping story before it faded into nothingness. Likely, it was inspired by your spell making project; it had begun as a joke, but you were sure you could resize yourself small enough to quite literally ride bat Eddie into the sunset.

“I was a bat too,” you started.

You had been a bat, swooping through pretty pink skies and fluffy white clouds. You’d chased shooting stars and nuzzled together with Eddie high up in Hawkins’ tallest trees. The other bats had kept their distance from you, as they had with Eddie. Then, the largest of the Eptesicus fuscus decided to gift you crunchy beetles and other tasty snacks.

“Wait!” Eddie interjected.

Before he could say anything, you cackled. “That is exactly what you did in the dream! You were very jealous that another bat wanted my attention,”

���What did the other bat want your attention for?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a real bat. Not like us. So probably to make bat babies. Don’t worry. I was not into it in the dream. Nor am I in real life.”

Eddie squeezed you tight in his arms, making a small huffing sound.

“Jealous of a make-believe animal,” you snickered.

Eddie’s smile was pressed into the nape of your neck. You felt him drag his teeth along your skin. The rolling want rippled down your body. The scent of jasmine was still strong from their night bloom. You glanced at them on the bedroom windowsill.

“Quiz me?” Eddie asked then, sucking all the sensuality from the moment.

You audibly wined, much to his pleasure. “It’s so early,” you complained, though it wasn’t your greatest grievance.

“It’s never too early to learn the craft,”

“Ugh. Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

Eddie screeched celebratorily, letting you roll out of his arms and turn to face him. He sat up and clapped his hands together.

“Heliotrope oil?” you began.

“To induce premonitions,”

“Correct. Polypody?”

“Nightmares,”

“Buckthorn?”

“Protection,”

“Um… Celandine?”

“That,” Eddie pointed at you, “is a cantrip!” he accused. You raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to greater celandine or lesser celandine?”

You laughed. “Eddie. I don’t know. It wasn’t a trick question. Which is the one with the superstition?”

“Greater,” he told you like it wasn’t funny. “And, so what if it is superstition? Isn’t that what we are?”

A spacey feeling overtook you for a moment. “Woah… déjà vu…” You shook it from your head and looked back at Eddie. “Oh god… You still want to answer the question, don’t you?”

“It can predict death, greater celandine. For someone with a terminal illness,”

“Can it? How does a flower do that?” you teased.

“Place a stem of it on their head. If they cry, they will live. If they begin to sing, they are doomed to death,”

“I wonder what they sing,”

“Another One Bites the Dust presumably,” Eddie answered without skipping a beat.

It was impossible not to laugh; whether it was because the joke was genuinely funny or because of the smug and expecting grin on Eddie’s face, it was hard to tell.

“So dumb!”

“Hey!” Eddie yelped, diving back under the covers and reaching out for you.

Some things needed to be studied to be mastered. You were learning how magic worked around the existence of Eddie. For his part, he was a student of the basics. Beginning with the very foundations of the craft. Other things needed not a guiding grimoire or senior supervision, for those things came easily -

Kisses trailing over the softness of your belly and down. Hands wrapped around Eddie, thumb circling the tip. Bloody bites licked clean and healed without scarring.

Your favourite part of sex was the moments just before Eddie climaxed. Somehow, in his monstrousness, a rumbling sound came from deep within him while he simultaneously made a pathetic whining noise. It was always eerie and beautiful and sexy.

Eddie’s favourite part was the moments just after, the way you came down from the high. A ragdoll body, fucked out and momentarily broken. He’d position you to be comfortable, leave you for a vampire second to get water and something sugary. You’d giggle, dumb, letting him tip the drink into your mouth. Often then, before sanity returned to either of you, you’d look at him with that expression. Do something weird, it would say, that pretty face of yours.

Eddie had forgotten what it felt like to have an alive, human body. He also loved to play the role of the freak. Loved to see how far he could go before you’d feel disgust. Loved you so fully and so intensely, that every part of your existence was a work of art all on its own.

Naturally then, he’d push his tongue up your nose. Use his fanged teeth to clean unidentifiable gunk from under your nails. Bite the tender flesh above your belly button, watch the blood pool, then body-shot it out. Spit in your mouth.

He’d lick you clean of sweat, reporting on the different flavours as he did so (the sweat that rolled down the small of your back was the best). Take strands of hair from your head and thread them through his teeth, pulling at them like dental floss.  Lay his head on your body and listen to the sounds inside; he could tell you when you’d need to use the bathroom before you could even feel it.

Eddie catalogued your body in an effort to see if anything that it made was consumable to a vampire like blood was. Sweat and tears had made the list. Tears tasted salty sweet and none went to waste. He was like a truffle pig, sniffing his way across the plains of your body, searching ferally for that edible high.

You had yet to feel disgust. You doubted you ever would. It all made you feel so very loved so very desired.

Do something weird.

Eddie gripped your face and licked at it like a long-lost St. Bernard reunited with its owner.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered when he finished cleaning your face. You tasted like the chamomile balm you wore to bed.

“A surprise?” you whispered back.

Eddie nodded. “It’s in the woods,”

“But it’s so cold,” you complained, wriggling down into the heat of the bed.

“You’ll be warm soon. I promise. Let’s go.”

…

“It’s the right day,” Ash said to nobody in particular from her place at the window. She was keeping watch, tasked with sounding the alarm when you returned from the woods with Eddie. “The thirty-first. Three represents creativity and growth and self-expression. One for new beginnings. So, thirty-one is about pursuing your passions and starting a new chapter in your life. And, thirty-one is a manifestation number,”

“You do remember we were all raised by Jo ‘777’ Avery, right?” Hailey quipped. “We know what thirty-one means,”

“So does Eddie. He picked it on purpose,” Mel told them as she finished working on the apotropaic besom that would be placed on your front doorstep.

“Of course he did,” Meg said dreamily.

“Wait!” Kelsey’s eyes were wide. “Jo! Her soul cursed to take the shape of something she wasn’t… Like Eddie. What if-”

“It’s not the same. She did it to herself, remember? You can’t uncurse what went willingly into the hex,” Mel soberly offered.

The witches fell silent. Jo had been older than Sally and Gillian. Maybe even Penelope. She spent half her life in the mortal world, watching painters and sculptors and all the artists come and go. She was less muse and more quiet critic. In February of 1897, she grew ill. Jo called it heartsick. The angel numbers she had always relied on meant nothing anymore. Her life, instead, became guided by an American creative by the name of Ivan Le Lorraine Albright.

Jo watched him grow. Watched him paint. Watch his style linger on the wrong side of the cusp of brilliance. The coven often found her scribbling out spells and practicing rituals none of them recognised. Something was terribly wrong.

Then, one day in 1929, Jo conjured a monster named Ida. She poured herself into Ida. Magic and soul and all. Ivan painted frantically, a new style born, a master of the macabre crowned. As Ida was painted onto the canvas, Jo’s body faded into the abyss. Ida dragged her mother into the ink and they were no more.

The finished piece – Into the World There Came a Soul Called Ida – would be gifted to the Art Institute of Chicago. The coven sometimes visited Jo. Felt her there. Felt the energy behind the sick brushstrokes.

“Jo would have loved this. A witch and a vampire? The unholiness of it all?” Ev noted. She was sitting next to Meg, pulling petals from camellias, pansies, and cyclamens to scatter through your home.  Meg held the bowl.

“We’ve always been like this. Haven’t we?” Ash asked.

“Driven into the shadows by love or madness?”

“No, I mean… Well, yes… But I think that part might just be womanhood. Hiding the unsanitary bits. I mean we as in witches. We have always broken our own rules,” Ash replied.

The coven hushed again. Throughout history, witches had fallen in love with humans and fae and other unblessed creatures. They had broken law and lore. They had crossed lines and made new ones. But somehow, you and Eddie had been punished the hardest. It didn’t make sense to them.

“I miss Jo,” Meg said.

“I miss them all,” Hailey agreed, her paintbrush going still, only ‘congrats’ coloured.

“So do I. But I’m still angry,” Kelsey admitted. “And I want to be better than them,”

“We are. Being here. Bearing witness to this…” Ev assured her.

“Can you imagine how not normal Jo would have been about Eddie’s teeth?” Meg laughed.

The coven giggled, then continued their snappy back-and-forth conversation while they waited. They speculated about guest lists. The humans? Probably. Cyprian the fae and Randy the wolf? Maybe. What remained of the Catskills coven? Unlikely. And what of tradition? Would the rings be passed from guest to guest, filling with love and best wishes? Handfasting?

When they ran out of things to place bets on, they tried to wring details from Mel about her sessions with Eddie and his mother. Though she was not sworn to secrecy, she already felt she was imposing on their privacy by being in the room. It was better when you were there. Eddie was happier and his mother was brighter. Both metaphorically and physically. The other witches were dying to know what happened during those tender and tragic moments, not realising that each of them had formed a personal and unique relationship with Eddie too.

Kels and Eddie felt like old friends, which of course, they were. They were as comfortable as siblings, which meant Eddie often gravitated toward her house when he was bored. When bickering, they’d refer to each other as Edward and Fern. You watched them playfight like puppies left alone.

Ev’s affinity for darkness lent itself to Eddie’s more nefarious side. She was his armorer and revelled in his stories of justice served. Hailey and Eddie had a two-person book club. Meg was teaching him how to cook and bake all of your favourites. And Ash, once she found out Eddie already knew how to sew, roped him into other textile crafts.

Kelsey looked down at the journal in her hands. The story of you and Eddie. She would write it all down. The lonely vampire. The little witch. The grief and betrayal. The bed of yarrow. The love, the love, oh, the love. Maybe, one day, you’d be gifted the book. Maybe not. Kelsey wasn’t sure how it all ended just yet. As she sat with her sisters, preparing for a party, she was only sure that you were all exactly where you were meant to be.

…

The January sunrise filtered through the flatlands. Rainbows refracted off snowflakes. The tips of your boots were already soaking through and it almost hurt to breathe. About halfway to the woods, Eddie had become a makeshift blindfold, hands covering your eyes, swearing that braving the cold would be worth it.

“Is this what you and Mel have been up to? Did you make a new gate or something?”

“You’ll see,” was all he’d say.

Are we going to breakfast with the foxes? That’d be nice.

Is there another bat that needs saving out here?

If you want to build a tree house, Kels is really who you should be waking up.

Did you find another mushroom circle and need me to identify if it’s fae or not?

You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll see.

Then, you did.

“Okay… Open!”

Eddie’s hands left your face.

There, a structure. Not really a building. Something else. A dome. As tall as a house with a matching circumference.

“What…”

A dome that appeared to be solid. It had an opaque, matte coating. The harder you looked at it, the less you could tell if the trees were growing through it or if they’d been cut to shape. The dome shimmered, like a reflection on water. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. Like it was offended at the mere thought of being looked at.

You took tentative steps towards it. Slowly, carefully, you reached out to touch the dome. It was hard. Real. And… warm?

Turning back to Eddie, he was watching you carefully.

“You win. I have no idea what this is,” you admitted.

With his best strut, Eddie walked by and knocked on the dome three times. A slit in the surface appeared. A door, ajar.

“After you,” Eddie invited.

You let the heat emanating from the dome pull you inside.

It was bright; you had no trouble seeing, but your brain was still struggling to process the information your senses were providing.

The shape of the dome had completely disappeared. You would have not known you were inside at all, if it weren’t for the snow and leaves falling, hitting something invisible above and around you, then sliding around it. Touching the wall, it still felt solid and hard, even if you couldn’t see it.

“It’s like… like a reverse snow globe…” you marvelled.

The air inside was warm and still, cut off from whatever was happening in the world. The dome muffled the sounds outside too. It wasn’t silent, but the whistling wind was muted into comforting white noise.

Eddie had followed you inside, clicking the door that could only be opened and closed by him into place. The magic in the spell was linked to Eddie. That meant it wouldn’t last forever, Mel had warned him. It would serve a purpose, then fade away.

Eddie didn’t need the dome forever, only a moment. You were his forever. If all went well.

You’d started to rub your hands over the warm grass and dry bark of the trees. They hadn’t been touched by the snow in days, you figured. They’d shaken winter off in the greenhouse environment.

Eddie had to say your name three times to pull your attention to him. He folded himself down onto the ground next to you.

“This is beautiful… This is what you and Mel were doing out here?” you asked, too in awe of the dome to see the beautiful determination on Eddie’s face.

He nodded, reaching out to catch your chin in his hand, gently redirecting your gaze to him. “My little witch…”

Your joy gave way to curiosity. Whatever he was doing, he’d not done it before.

“My love… I am the last of my kind at what feels like the beginning of my life; an endling, with no right to start something. But I defy that. Like I have defied… everything my life and death dared offer. Until you.”

There was something in his tone that had an immediate effect on you. Your nose tingled and your eyes stung. Eddie’s choice of words dipped back into the sixteenth century when he was most serious. He lost the carefree cadence of the 1980s.

“I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I love you more every single time I see you. Blood of my blood. Body of my body. Soul of my soul.”

The gravity of the moment got caught in your throat. It was with dizzying clarity you reached out for Eddie, for stability. He took your hands and tangled his fingers between yours.

“I was born for nothing but this, but I would live it all again if it brought me to you. The agony of life and the loneliness of death. The void of a hex. I would do it all again and again if it kept me on a pathway to you.”

You were cemented still in the darkness of his eyes. Jaw clenched, breath still, mouth dry. Something smelt of yarrow and apple, though you were not of the mindset to find the source. More than likely, there wasn’t one at all.

“My little witch, all that I have is yours. All that I am, I give freely. Would you seal my fate and bless me with your hand in marriage?”

End note: 92,965 words and we have come to the end of our story. I have been writing this for over a year and have poured so, so much time, love, energy, and commitment into it. So much of my soul is in these pages.

Whatever you came for - entertainment, escapism, Eddie, witchcraft, company, love - I hope you found in Burning Yarrow.

I would deeply appreciate to hear from you. Even if you can't quantify or consolidate your feelings into words, just a little note to let me know that this project has meant something to someone other than me.

Finally, thank you to the real life Kelsey/Kelso @toomanyacorns and real life Mel @kookygranger for the historical knowledge and witchy inspiration. And to all the other women who snuck their way into this world. I love you all!

Until next story... xo Rhi

P.S. The Grimoire and timeline Tumblr posts are complete.

P.P.S. Thank you to the following freaks for helping me think of weird shit for Eddie to do in chapter 31: @jo-harrington @myosotisa @bettyfrommars @mopeymopeymouse @munson-blurbs

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 

@pastel-pillows @moviefreak1205 @awkward00noodle

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[sidsinning]

UNNECESSARY AND UNHINGED RANT ABOUT CINDERELLA'S CHARACTER FROM CINDERELLA (2015) INCOMING

Lemme talk about Cinderella from Cinderella (2015) for a bit actually yeah because these changes to my girl completely baffle me

She has friends now

Goes outside on her own

Says the only reason why she's staying is because it's her parent's house- bruh.

All of this takes away (+ more reasons down the cut) from the true cruelty of OG!Cinderella's backstory and how it all connects so well to inform you of her character and the actions she takes

OG!Cinderella has been indoctrinated into accepting her life as a maid to her step family since she was a small child. She is never seen going outside of the house besides the night at the ball. The only friends she had were random animals around her she couldn't even fully converse with. She had no other human perspective on her situation or how to get out of it. It makes sense why she's just taking her stepmother's tyranny while holding everything in because this isolation and neglect is all she knows. This is the entire limited scope of her world. A sad reality to many cases of abuse in real life.

And they just. Erased all of this for some. Reason???

The night at the ball was a big deal because she literally NEVER gets to go out. This is the only time she interacts with the outside world aside from the ending. The impact of that was HUGE in the original movie. The new one just cheapened that imo by implying she goes out in town and talks to others regularly. This event was an impossible, fantastical dream come true to someone who is never treated as anything but a servant to everyone she knows.

Basically OG!Cinderella has it way worse which is what makes the ball such a huge deal in the first place.

Third point I don't think I need to explain how Cinderella staying in her abusive home bc the house is "hers to love now that her parents are dead" is not a good character change and doesn't make sense. I would understand if her dad was alive and insisting on staying, but he is GONE. It is a building you grew up in sure, but that's all it is. Not something you sacrifice your wellbeing for. So that's a shit reason they didn't need to make up to say why this character is stuck in her abusive household. The isolation and years of gaslighting were enough. (Also showing how much of a frightening presence and manipulative villain Lady Tremaine is.)

And she sure left it quick after getting hitched lol

The Fairy Godmother having the audacity to test Cinderella with that "oh I'm a poor old woman and I want some milk please" nonsense

Not very godmotherly of her in this version. 🥴 The Fairy Godmother appeared in the original to offer pure comfort to Cinderella in a time of desperate need, when this resilient and kind spirit finally reached her breaking point. The dress, slippers, pumpkin carriage, and magic were all given freely as a present to make her feel better at least for one night.

Meanwhile this goofy ass Godmother has the audacity to be like "hey is she gonna be nice or not even though she's crying in tattered, recently destroyed clothing- I need to see that or else she doesn't get the magic juice". Like why did this become a way to test her morality all of a sudden? Why did you need something from her to give up the magic goods?? It's not even a good test she just walked a couple steps and poured some milk in a bowl,,,

Idk man they made their relationship transactional for no reason which taints the original purpose of this scene imo. The original Fairy Godmother already KNEW Cinderella was kind without having to make sure by disguising herself as a rancid old lady. 😭 Weird and unnecessary addition.

Kinda nitpicky here but this film did not at all match the terror of the torn dress scene which really shows you how horrifying and humiliating it was to Cinderella

Comparison

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENDER: THE WAY SHE "ESCAPED".

I NEED TO TAKE A BREATH

BECAUSE LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT.

Original Cinderella, seeing a real chance of escape from her abuse, uses everything in her possession to do so. She's yelling for the mice to get the key, to get Bruno to chase away the cat, running down to meet the prince's attendants to make sure they get the proof of her identity from her- and that moment she oh-so-casually pulled out the second slipper??? SEEING HER STEPMOTHER'S SLACKED JAW??? GAGGED US ALL.

ICONIC

But 2015. Bitch. What is going on. She gets locked up and easily accepts her doom. She just twirls and sings in her prison like a dunce because cINDerELLa wAs aLReADy cONTenT wIth her sMaLL mOMEnts oF hAPPIneSs anD dREamS wItH thE pRinCE.

Just. Gives up.

Not the mice begging her to get up and save herself come on now

The mice have to do their best on their own to push open her window so the prince and his crew hear her on time.

And yeah, all she had to do was open a window.

WHAT. WHY. HOW. WAS THIS??? MORE EMPOWERING???

1950: use your brain to fight to the very end

2015: quit while you're still ahead, or don't try you just gotta dance and sing all pretty then someone will come along and save you

I'm sorry, but for a production that was so critical of the notion of "Cinderella just waited around for a prince to save her"...is that not literally what they changed the ending to?

You wanna talk about lack of agency in princess stories well here you go 😭

You know what's sad about all this in the end is this is still the best recent live action Disney remake imo LOL

Anyways hello if you've made it all the way down here I rest my case

[wroteclassicaly]

Sit Down

(Gator Tillman x Female Reader)

Summary: Maxed out on stress, Gator is tired of you. And of course, he thinks he’s developed the perfect suggestion.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, smut, rough sex, vaginal sex, some heavy petting, biting w/ a little blood, slight breeding kink towards the end, & some fluffy comfort. That’s about it!

Word count: 2,849

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Female Reader

A/N: I’ve been stressed out and everything, and I’ve been daydreaming all day of getting my brain shut off by Gator like this. It’s porn without plot, so I hope y’all enjoy? ❤️

You didn’t smile at him, didn’t accept his fruitless jokes or quirky mannerisms. He tried to toss his half of the insults that you both usually hurl at one another, but nothing. It left a bitter bite on his tongue and a sucker punch to his guts. He’s embarrassed he even tried to converse with you. Balancing the local bank bordered pen between his thumb and pointer finger, Gator Tillman taps it against chipped desk wood, blowing a hot breath from between his winter chapped lips.

He can’t take it any longer, especially when you slam your purse down on the counter of your desk cubicle and insult the entirety of the precinct. His desk chair’s springs hinge underneath his weight, and he throws it forward to stride to you on faded snow covered combats. Elongating his leather clad arm, he watches his own thick fingers pinch your shoulder blade to get your attention and direct you towards him. He’s normally not this public with his reactions in regards to you, but you're under his skin, you’re inside of him more than he finds himself buried deep within you. It’s a given this was bound to break his reverie.

Your brows nearly meet in anger, creating a crease he fights to kiss off. He’s pissed, he has to let that lead right now. He can see your heavy breaths beneath the crinkle in your overcoat, your heaving breasts covered by a satin, blood red blouse that you’re wearing today. You don’t dare move, but wait. He likes this.

Your nostrils are brimmed with the hot cinnamon spice of the aftershave that’s wrapped around his neck, licking his jawline. You follow those freckles that wind around his jugular, single out those moles, all the way to his pretty pink mouth as it separates and begins to command you in a voice so deep it rattles your ribcage from a startled heartbeat. Pulsing, thumping, pounding, leaving muscles sore and aching.

“Get your ass out to my squad car! I need to have a talk with you.”

“No.” You spit, looking up at him, watching his adam’s apple bob from a jagged swallow. Did he expect that? He knows your mouth has a doctorate in back talking.

Your energy, your stress, it all piles into combat mode and it pushes against you, leaving you whimpering to its orders. You let it guide you, piss you off.

“You like havin’ a job to pay your rent?” It’s condescending, knowing what it can do, his tone is ever so present. Abusing his power just the way that you fuckin’ like it.

Here we go, the give and take that’s finally broken all boundaries, publicized whatever your relationship with Roy Tillman’s son is.

Your jaw clicks and you lick the roof of your mouth. “M’ pretty sure I can find another place to lay down my head at night, Sheriff.”

He can barely stand how the anger burns from his toes and electrifies his neck’s nape. He can’t see through its aftershocks, rolling forward and landing back on heavily booted heels. He fully clasps your shoulder now, leaving no room for another choice. You’re out the door first, the faux fur on your snowshoes dusted in the white powder, sludge scrambled beneath your heavy footfalls, Gator’s right behind yours. The cruiser is off to the side of the building today, shimmering beneath the wintery condensation, scoped out by the buttery glow of a Midwestern, countryside sun.

You hear the automatic lock release, and resist the urge to call him a good little boy. You’d chastised him for leaving a police vehicle, something that a Tillman drives — unlocked. He listened. You peel open the passenger door, a bit tough due to freezing conditions. Ice chips shred themselves and shake loose of the door, melting as they pelt your boots. Gator has a white knuckled grip on the driver’s door, standing opposite, a cold smoke cloud trickling off his mouth, his mossy eyes having evaporated into a midnight black.

You climb into the cold expanse of the car and slam your door with purpose, sealing your paced fate. You don’t turn as he leans down to look into the car, or even as he joins you and cranks the engine for some heat. His benefit beyond your own. There’s a few wrappers, however, that you do notice when you glance across the dashboard.

This is the thoughtful pause where your tongue feels heavy, legs a deadweight, yet lighter than a feather. Your body reacting to Gator while your mind becomes caged to his capture, and he’s the only one with the key. He’s the first one to react today, again. The sound is one you’ll never tire of hearing, saliva pooling on your tongue as he peels back the leather from his belt buckle and it clatters apart, giving him room to undo his jeans entirely. He gives halt to his actions and snaps his fingers in your direction.

“Look at me.”

Your knees knock together and it causes a smirk to tug on the corner of his beautiful mouth. He’s got one hand, a watch wrapped wrist - deep into his underwear, sliding his hand back and forth, squeezing, preparing, and levels you to the seat with that gaze that reaches, that cradles beneath his eyebrows, bringing them into focus. When he’s got you tangled into his trap, he grits his teeth as he struggles to free himself, his fingertips only grazing around the beautiful girth you’re once again gifted privy to personal indulgence with.

Cocky. He’s fed and greedy. “Oh yeah, you want this, huh? You can be the biggest bitch in Stark County and I’ve still got somethin’ you want, that no one else can ever give you. Ain’t that right, baby?”

You don’t verbalize, it’s pointless. Tears blurring your vision, burning into the ducts. You need him, you always do. He fixes you, even when he breaks you, puts you back together when he’s the one who's pulling everything apart.

“Get over here, quick, pretty baby.” A compliment and it has you crawling across the console and right into his lap, his cock jumping, smacking against that plain black t-shirt he’s wearing beneath his jacket, when your warmth is above him.

He doesn’t touch you yet, his spare hand tight on his holster and the other on his cock. You can feel its thickness scraping against you, and he grins, tapping the weapon. “Not like you’ve cared before when I wear this when I’m inside. Think that you like wonderin’ if I was smart enough to remember the safety, don’t ya?”

You start to say something, and he removes the gun and places it where you were sitting moments ago. No more crackling plays. He’s ready. That massive palm drifts in between your legs and wiggles around to find the hem of your work skirt, bringing it up and ordering you to hold onto it. The moment that you do, it’s an audible growl that festers from his throat, birthed in his diaphragm. He’s seen your situation through the sheer tights that you’re wearing, in addition to the massive wet patch that’s stained the seam.

“Where’s your fuckin’ panties?”

“Forgot to do the laundry. Sue me.” And he would on the spot, give you a sentence, a ticket, something. The way he’s looking at you when you permit your eyes to meet. That amber ring is completely engulfed in the vast expanse of his orbs.

“You’ve just been walkin’ around like this?”

“Looks like.” You sass, hands trembling to hold up your skirt, especially when he lets go of his cock and uses both hands to demolish the crotch of your stockings, fabric ripping down to your inner thighs, leaving you swollen and bare for him.

Vulnerable. Ready to have your worries shut off and be put aside. He leans up and you meet, his nose mashing into yours, lips shaping over your own, caressing, yet not meeting.

“Sit down.” He commands, and spits a clean line of saliva into his own palm, tucking it between your legs and rubbing.

You disobey instruction and sway forward, knuckle bones cracking as you fist your grip into the shoulders of his leather jacket, its echoing crinkle roaring in your ears with the static blood rush. Your lips part and it’s a trembling whine that escapes. Gator is elated, using his calloused digits to separate you messily, slapping once, twice. You jump, back smashing into his steering wheel and laying on the horn. He chuckles, uncaring now. It’s feeding season and he’s here to claim.

“Goddamned pathetic mess, aren’t you? Like a lost doe waiting on her buck to take the lead. You just needed me to fix everything you’ve been goin’ through, right?”

He craves to be your antidote, the only prayer you pray, even when you’re not on your knees for him, but at your bedside, and your sole place of worship. He knows that his home lies inside of you — warm and safe, all abandoned and found. He’s gripping his cock to hold for you, waiting, letting his sopping wet fingers leave a webbed string from your cunt to the digits, to which he takes greedily into his mouth and sucks. You’re on him completely within a flash, that fat head putting a welcomed pressure on the damp ring of muscle that beckons him a little deeper, gets off on the pain his size is about to bring. You tighten your grip on his jacket, rolling it back off his shoulders to slide your hands beneath and grip the fabric of his t-shirt.

His toes curl in his boots and he shifts, letting his heels roll back to assist him in a raise of his muscular legs as he pushes hard and fast, his wrapped hand meeting your folds in a sticky press. He lets go to grasp at your waist, keeping you steady and still. You fall into his neck, thighs shaking so hard that it causes him to practically vibrate, choking on the quaking. It’s a few moments that he gives you before he’s fetching you by the back of the neck and dragging you from the dotted crevice where you’d begun your quest to kiss those freckles and moles painted into his skin. This is how he holds you, irises matching to meet, your hips rolling to a rhythm that this amount of limited space can barely accommodate, with his fingers squeezing your neck, keeping it propped, adjusting your head when it lolls back.

He grows impatient within the next few movements, gritting his milky whites, pawing at your heavy coat, moving it to get to your clothing beneath to rip your blouse, buttons pinging all over, bouncing from the crystal windshield and onto the dash. Hell, you were sure one made it past the cage divider and into the backseat. Your bra cups are pushed beneath your tits and exposing your nipples to the change in temperature, which Gator immediately takes advantage of. Slapping each swell before taking a nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue to overstimulate you, getting you to move yourself a little faster over him, drawing his heavy balls just a little tighter. And then he’s letting himself steer it in reverse to watch you take what he’s giving.

He knows it hurts, a boastful pride that’s also made him bashful at times, surprisingly. But you’re taking him, riding him, holding onto his shoulders as your perfect tits bounce with every movement. There’s not enough room in here, it’s cramped, smelling of sex and faded fast food wrappers, but Gator doesn’t give two flying fucks. Your clit drags across that patch of hair at his base, smearing your thick cream down his shaft when he pulls out to push back in, and it has you begging him to hurt you some more.

His spare hand goes for the plush of your waist, and he gives a vice pressure, his boots leaving the floor as he gives you all he’s got, his cock colliding with that diabolically delicious spot inside. “How about that?” He’s panting.

You tighten around him, flooding him, jaw becoming unhinged to let your tongue roll out, licking your lips, your eyes glazed over. You reach for his hold on your neck, holding onto his wrist. And your other hand ventures into purchase, your body pressing forward, flipping his shirt up enough to press your breasts into those tufts of chest hair, your mouth finding his neck and you lick away that aftershave soaked perspiration, all the way from his gulping jugular, tasting his overworked breaths, to going across his jawline, and you nose your way into the overpowering smell of his hair product, your hand bypassing his chest and sliding between his slicked back locks, shaking them into a disarray, yanking so hard that he hisses, “You fuckin’ bitch. You know how much I hate that.”

But he doesn’t. He can fix his hair. And his pathetic cock pulses inside of you, letting you know that he’s close, so fucking close that his goddamned throat is on fire with it. You’re too brainless to make a sassing remark, that tightening in your belly beginning to take hold. Gator steps in to save, witty on encouragement.

“Soaking my fuckin’ dick. Think you’re about to cum for me, baby. Should I let you ride it out? You gonna talk back to me when we’re out of this car in a few minutes?” He cuts himself off, gasping into the kiss you steal.

You’re nodding, unsure of what you’re answering. You just know that if you don’t have your release that you’re going to tip off the precipice and shatter. Gator takes your warning, closes his palm over the back of your neck, and begins to piston his hips until the car starts to rock and you’re both unsure who’s making what noise. Your eyes roll back and he jerks you forward, keeping your beautiful chest-full against him, high on the stimulation. His nose is shoved in your cheekbone and he’s kissing you messily, your slick noisy and loud, embarrassing and overwhelming.

Gator bites down so hard on your bottom lip that you taste copper. He automatically licks it up. He fuckin’ loves it when he can make you bleed and tend to it. You’re crying, holding onto his hand around your neck, hand falling from his hair and onto his naked waist. All you get out is one word. “Please.”

“Fuck yeah, baby. You wanna cum all over my cock? Gonna let me fill up your worthless little cunt?”

That dam breaks and cracks at your foundation, flood gates exploding, Gator’s thrusts sounding wetter and messier. You know it’s happening before he does, uncaring how messy it is when it spurts from where you’re joined, drenching that connected trail of hair around his navel, matting back his bush with a translucent shine. His head thumps back against the seat and he swallows, crying out, “Oh, fuck. Good girl, fuckin’ mess me up.” He’s stroking, fondling your neck.

And then you’re taking the finality of his uncoordinated movements, his eyes connecting with yours once more, grip tighter on your neck, fingers laced with yours, other hand reaching for a breast, letting his fingertips tap down your sternum and press you apart to see himself engulfed in your cunt. He’s lifting his calloused thumb against your clit, blood smeared mouth kissing around the corners of your own. “Want you to do it again. Spill all over my lap and I’ll fill you so full that this town won’t have to wonder who put a baby in your belly. They’ll fuckin’ know.”

He’s got you so full on the next push that you lose your breath and give him what he wanted faster than you could’ve anticipated, the surprise of his words coursing through your every connected vein. Your body belongs to him, obeys, another layer dousing him. And he makes good on his promise, seconds later, whimpering, all the tendons in his throat tightening, his pupils expanding, and he’s brimming your insides with warmth, hips stuttering, movement fizzling out, holding against you as his orgasm completely drains him. You encourage him, you thank him, words jumbled. He’s seeking you out, forever needing solace and approval after it’s this intense (and it usually is).

He kisses your mouth, wettened, flat presses, his tongue licking inside as his hands move to hold onto the fat of your breasts. On the break away, he’s nosing you, an act of reserved affection. It’s all better now.

After you’d ran some gas out and redressed in a comfortable silence, wiping yourselves down with the console napkins Gator keeps — he’d voiced his opinions from earlier, trying to mask the concern but failing miserably.

“Everything is okay though, right? Nothin’ we can’t handle?”

We.

You smile at him, adjusting your skirt over the ruins of your tights, both of you aware that you’ll be completely bare for the rest of your shift.

“Turns out that all I needed to do to feel a little better, was to ‘sit down’.”

// Eat me paragraph //