#prompt 2: Shells

[rubydracogirl]

Siren's Treasure

Mermay/Gravity Falls story

Siren!OcXFord Pines and Stan Pines

Rated M just in case. This chapter isn't spicy but later parts probably will be

Part one is here if you missed it

Chapter 2

Shells

Stan was starting to get pissed off as he hauled back another empty line with his bait completely gone.

“Not again!” He hissed as he reset his hook with fresh bait. As he tossed the new line into the water, he settled in his chair, watching closely. He’d be damned if he lost another fish to whatever was taking it.

He’d always enjoyed ocean fishing, though it was certainly a different beast from fishing in the lake in Gravity Falls. 

Often, he had better luck catching fish off the boat then he ever did at that stupid lake-

His rod jerked slightly and he sat up, peering into the water as he pulled back, trying to hook whatever had grabbed onto the bait.

“C’mon, come to papa-” He chuckled as his rod jerked, a sign that he'd caught whatever was there. He let the line go, his excitement growing.

The line went slack, and he began to reel again, only for the fish to fight him, more spirited than ever.

This went on for longer than he would have liked. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he found himself bracing against the side of the boat.

“Ford!” He shouted as he nearly went over the rail. He braced himself and pulled back hard-

All at once, the line went completely slack and he went bowling over, nearly head over heels. 

Luckily for him, Ford broke his fall. Unluckily for them both, the deck broke their collective fall.

“Holy Moses,” Stan groaned, cursing colorfully under his breath as Ford helped him back to his feet. 

“What the-” Stan took a confused look at the end of his line. Attached to the hook was a giant, conical shell. It was a deep, golden brown color with creamy white dots scattered over its glossy surface.. 

“How the devil did you manage that?” Ford asked, impressed as he picked up the giant shell, untangling it from the hook.

“I dunno, I-”

Stan’s bewildered look became a scowl as they both heard a loud splash. Poking her head up from the water was the Siren. And in her mouth was a sizable fish-

“YOU DIRTY THIEF!” Stan shouted, shaking his fist at her as he lurched to the railing, “THAT’S MINE! GIVE IT BACK, YOU FISH FLOOZY!”

She only grinned, making a show of taking a huge bite out of the fish. Stan sputtered in rage, shouting at her as she chewed lazily, staring at him with an unimpressed expression before ducking down under the water.

“That overgrown tuna took my-”

“Stanley, do you know what kind of shell this is?” Ford interrupted.

“Should I?” Stan fumed as he glared at the water.

“It’s a Junonia shell, probably the biggest one I’ve ever seen…” 

“So?” 

Stan was still scowling at the water. The Siren poked her head back up, obviously chewing. He inhaled to yell at her some more, when Ford’s next words struck him.

“These are extremely rare. The biggest ones I’ve seen are less than five inches long and sell for a lot of money. This one’s damn near two feet long and in pristine condition-”

“How much?” Stan whipped around, taking another look at the shell.

“Smaller ones sell for something like fifty to eighty dollars last I was aware. I’m not an expert but I’d guess- hey!”

Stan snatched the shell, looking over it with renewed interest. 

“Just our luck there’s probably something in it-”

But the shell was completely empty.

“More than likely, she ate the creature inside.” Ford mused as he looked back at the water. “I thought perhaps she was following us to scavenge, but maybe not?”

The siren was back, peering at them with a grin. Stan coughed as he held up the shell for her to see.

“You keep bringing me shells like this, you can have any damn fish I hook that you want!” He shouted with a big grin.

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t look confused. Ford’s brow furrowed as he studied her. That had to be a sign she understood English, at least…

So why wasn’t she talking to them?

8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8

In the weeks that followed, Stan collected almost twenty different kinds of shells from the siren. Each time he reeled in his line, there’d be a new seashell waiting, each as rare and beautiful as the first.

Ford was deeply puzzled by the whole thing. The whole time she’d been following them, he had not once heard her sing or speak. The siren he had dated in Gravity Falls had been the exact opposite. She sang often and was a vociferous companion. Ford hadn’t minded; her being chatty was especially helpful for his research.

“Shelly’s late today,” Stan commented, watching his fishing line with pretended disinterest.

“Shelly?”

“Yeah. Y’know, the cute fish lady that’s been hanging around? Can’t keep calling her ‘the siren’. Sounds dumb.”

“Very creative,” Ford replied dryly.

“Alright, smartass, what would you call her?”

Ford took a moment to think, his eyes wandering over the waters before he shook his head.

“She most likely has a name already.”

“She’s not opening up about it if she does. Besides, Shelly’s not a bad nickname.”

Ford huffed in annoyance but reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, it’s not a bad name.”

“Heh, damn straight.” Stan puffed his chest. “How much d’ya think I’ll get for these shells?”

“Probably depends on where you take them.” 

There was silence for a moment before Stan glanced at his twin. Ford was staring off into space, his brow furrowed.

“What’s eatin’ ya?”

Ford didn’t reply for a moment. The sounds of the water around them permeated the atmosphere as his thoughts percolated.

Stan glanced away and he brightened as he saw his fishing rod bending slightly.

He eagerly began to reel it in…but instead of a shell, there was actually a fish on the line.

Stan frowned for a moment before shrugging.

“I caught our dinner.”

They didn’t see her at all that day.

[joonipertree]

Sugar Daddy Boxer! Bakugo Katsuki x college student gn!reader

Tags: Age gap! Bakugo is 27, reader is 22. fluff, protective bakugo, attentive bakugo, he's a boxer because I said so <3

Bro i finished this with my wrist bandaged up. The things I'd do for my anime men.

Pt 2. Pt 3

Feel free to send in requests/prompts for this AU!

"Babydoll."

....

"Babydoll."

You finally hummed, unwrapping the woollen scarf that pillowed your face. It did an amazing job to keep you warm in the cold abyss of the early morning winter but was useless in your boyfriend's heated sports car.

You let yourself unfurl, letting the warmth melt you.

"Did you sleep properly?"

"Yeah." you said with a yawn, ready to turn your brain off again.

"I'm gonna ask you how many hours and you're telling me the truth."

You made eye contact with Katsuki, who still hadn't left the front of your building mind you, and reached out for your morning kisses.

"First, answer then kisses."

You whined and squirmed before huffing into stillness when you realised he was too mean to give into you.

"Six hours."

Katsuki's already furrowed eyebrows furrowed even more but he leaned forward to kiss your puckered lips. They were warm and firm and tasted like strawberry chapstick. And the hint of your cologne wafted through you, making you sigh into him.

Katsuki tugged your lower lip into his mouth, suckling on it before letting go and kissing the corner of your lips.

"We agreed on eight, baby."

"I was doing my homework, silly."

"Was this before or after your fanfiction reading time?"

You grinned, pawing at his chest as you leaned in for another chaste kiss.

"Look at you learning, old man. It was before."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, squeezing your thigh with his rough hand before finally deciding to start the car.

"Where do you wanna get breakfast from? You're not getting a coffee, by the way."

"Excuse m---"

"Nuh uh, little one." Katsuki looked at you with an eyebrow raise. "You didn't sleep as much as you should've and it already makes you jittery."

You crossed your arms and huffed, burying yourself deeper into the leather. And you knew that you'd just say something stupid and get yourself in even more trouble, so your mouth stayed shut. Katsuki didn't bother asking again, already knowing that there was a chocolate croissant and Acai bowl that had you hooked.

He made his way into the store quickly, your body not ready to get out to the fanged monster that the winter brought. And it meant you got the wonderful opportunity to see people actively stare at your boyfriend.

It didn't matter when he didn't even bother making eye contact, hands deep in his pockets and resting bitch face on. Two boys came up to him in an excited manner that wasn't fit for early morning. And while Bakugo scowled harder, he still had the courtesy to give them his autograph. You knew that if they weren't highschool students, he'd tell them to fuck off. Bakugo never became aggressive with kids.

Once the order was handed to him, he slipped the tip into the jar at the counter. And since the man never carried change, the barista's face had twisted into shell shock. But Bakugo didn't even acknowledge it and left the premises, making his way back to you.

You were handed the croissant and Acai bowl, nose filling with pleasant scents that warmed you even further into the seat. Katsuki took a sip of his black coffee before handing you your own cup.

"It's very much decaf but I know you like your caramel macchiato."

You squealed at the gesture, not surprised that he was soft for you, and leaned in to give a big wet smooch to his cheek. His smile was evident, even when he tried to keep it hidden.

"I need to stop spoiling you."

He never did.

By the time you'd finished your drink and croissant, your uni had come into view. And as always, some people eyed the Chevrolet Corvette that your boyfriend drove. black exterior glittering in the morning sun.

After a couple affectionate kisses littered across Bakugo's face and a very long kiss on the lips, you got out of your car in your sweats and puffer jacket.

Your friends were waiting by the entrance, having come at the same time, they greeted you while eyeing the car. They knew it belonged to your boyfriend but they never knew what your boyfriend even did to be sports car rich.

"Hello, my children," You muttered out, blinking slowly as you put your scarf over your nose.

"Hey, dude. How did your--" One of your friends began to talk to you while you all walked to class. But after a good fifteen steps, you heard someone call your name.

"Oi." The gruff voice filled your ears.

The three of you turned around and your friends had been left bamboozled.

Because lo and behold, Bakugo Katsuki had graced them with his presence.

The man just held up a green canvas bag, his finger being the only thing to hold the straps. You gasped and ran to grab it, making sure to check the contents as if afraid that you forgot to put your precious artwork before you left your apartment.

"Thank you thank you thank you, 'suki." You muttered, getting on your tippy toes to kiss his nose and mouth. You had to put your hand on rock hard muscle to stabilise yourself and the pressure didn't effect him one bit. He just cupped your face and deepened the kiss before placing one on your forehead.

"Stop being a dumbfuck and sleep on time. And show me what you made when I pick you up."

Bakugo started going back to his car, not caring for the stares your friends were throwing at him. They were chill, so he's heard. Katsuki was too anti social to get first hand experience.

"My guy."

When you turned, your guy friend had grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you vigorously.

"Your rich fucking boyfriend is a WBA fighter. Dude!"

"Yeah!! He's super cool right?"

"He's a fucking god but that's besides the point." Your friend looked more and more erratic.

"Yeah and that god is giving you a death glare. Better get your hands off them, bro. You've seen the amount of blood his opponents lose." Your other friend interjected, already pulling him off of you. He looked pale.

You turned and saw Katsuki stand like a statue, hands in his pockets and eyes hardened. His teeth were gritted which worried you since he already had a bad jaw. Students were swerving away like two rivers, his body like a jagged mountain in the middle.

Your double thumbs up and wide grin was the only thing that broke him out of his stance, shoulders relaxing and jaw releasing from its hold. Katsuki scanned the two men for a few more seconds before he turned and left with a wave of his hand.

"Fuck, I don't think I'll be able to breathe properly all day."

You turned with a skip in your step, happy to have seen your boyfriend for a few extra seconds in the morning.

"He's like a doberman. Such a cutie pie."

"I feel like that's an accurate description considering he would bite our heads off but only let you pet him."

"I see no cuteness in that man."

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 21

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19 || PART 20

Chrissy’s in Steve’s bed, sprawled out on her stomach, trying to plow through her homework when Steve says, “I need your help.”

Her heart’s in her throat as she whips her head toward him, already halfway through jumping up off the bed, ready to bury whatever body he needs burying.

But, he’s not even looking at her; he’s restlessly tearing a blank piece of paper into tiny little pieces, and his ears are a familiar, damning red. He’s not worried, he’s embarrassed.

“Jeez, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Chrissy sighs, flopping back down onto the bed. She’s gotten far too used to all of Steve’s problems being life or death, and whatever this is, she can tell it’s not that.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters.

She just waves her hand and flips her notes and textbook closed, ready to think about something, anything else. “What is it, boy troubles?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously, only to drop all pretenses when Steve ducks his head like a turtle hiding within its shell. “Already?”

“It’s not a problem, Chris, god,” he sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “I just thought—nevermind, it’s stupid.”

And then he just, picks his homework back up, as if Chrissy would ever let him get away with that. “Steve Harrington,” she snaps, only feeling marginally bad when he snaps his head back up. “Nothing about you is stupid.”

He’s still turtling into himself, but he nods dutifully, so she continues. “Now, tell me what you were going to say.”

He groans, flopping down on the bed to stare up at his white ceiling, barely blinking. She follows his lead, collapsing bonelessly next to him and rolling atop all their coursework until she’s nestled into his side, both of them giggling.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and finally begins to speak. “I have  a date with Eddie tomorrow, right?” he says, looking down at her for confirmation. She nods, even though he’d never given her a specific date. “And I wanted you to help me, like, plan it?”

She blinks, nonplussed as the blush on his cheeks disperses across his cheeks. She rolls over, elbow planted on his chest so she can use it to prop her chin up and peer down at him. “You need help planning a date?” she asks, voice incredulous.

He groans, reaching up to hide his face from her view, but she grabs his wrists and yanks them back down. He pouts up at her while she watches on, unamused.

“Most of my usual date plans are like, public? We can’t exactly just show up at Benny’s and share a milkshake, you know?” Chrissy grimaces, not having thought of that, but before she can apologize, he continues talking. “And besides…”

He trails off, eyes darting back and forth between her eyes as his blush travels down his neck and up the bridge of his nose.

“Besides?” she prompts, voice soft.

“We started this whole thing together, right?” he asks, looking earnestly up at her. “It wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t finish it together.”

Chrissy’s shriveled heart grows three sizes and bursts with such a ferocious love that she collapses onto him without warning, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight enough that he groans.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she says, ignoring all his pleas for her to loosen her hold. “I’m so glad you looked pathetic enough that day for me to come ask if you needed help.”

“I didn’t look that pathetic,” he grumbles, finally succeeding in tossing her off of him, sending her careening off the bed and onto the lush carpet of his bedroom floor.

He peers over the side of the bed, looking worried, so she smiles up at him until he reaches down and helps her back up.

“You looked like a wet puppy someone had tossed in a river,” she replies, bulldozing through his continued complaints to ask, “now, what were you thinking?”

In the end, it’s a fairly typical date set-up, but instead of dinner at a nice restaurant, it’s in Steve’s home. They lay a checkered table cloth across the Harrington’s breakfast nook, make sure he has all the ingredients for burgers and fries, and then set about attempting to make milkshakes once Steve reveals he’s never made them before.

Their first attempt splatters chocolate ice cream and milk all over the ceiling. Their second results in a water concoction that, while edible, is less than pleasant.

The third is thick, barely able to be sucked through one of the straw’s Steve had stolen from Benny’s. It’s perfect.

“Can you dump Eddie so I can go on the date instead?” she asks, barely pausing in her pursuit of sucking the shake through her straw.

Steve laughs and replies, “Or, I can just make you one whenever you want,” he says, nudging the shake closer to her, leaving his own straw inside.

She beams, and drinks the entire thing.

Steve accosts her before lunch the day of, telling Jeff, “can you tell everyone we’ll be missing lunch? Thanks,” before dragging her away.

“I thought we were done with this,” she says, settling into the seat across from him as he pulls out a familiar notebook she hasn’t even glimpsed for weeks.

He opens it, but doesn’t turn to the back of the notebook where all his rough draft secret admirer letters lay. Instead, he pulls a light blue envelope from the front and hands it over to her.

She stares down at Eddie’s name in Steve’s messy scrawl, clearly written carefully to keep it legible.

“Steve?” she asks, ghosting her fingers over the letters before looking up into his anxious face.

“It’s just—I liked writing the letters, so I wanted to give him one on our date, so,” he breaks their gazes to look down at the envelope, biting his lip. “I already wrote it, but it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t read it first.”

Steve Harrington, Chrissy thinks, eyes welling with all the fondness her body’s too small to contain. “Okay,” she sniffs, smiling down at the letter as she carefully slides her finger under the envelope’s flap and pulls it free.

It unfolds into the letter itself, Steve having clearly reverse-engineered it from all the times Eddie had done the same. Only then does she realize that at some point, he must have stolen a page from her planner because that’s the same as the first time, too.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything, just hunches back over the letter and begins to read.

   Eddie —

   I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.

   So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.    

   If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.

   Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,

   Steve

   P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?

“How is it?” Steve asks when she’s been staring down at the words on the page for probably too long. “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect,” she says, grinning when his entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “And so are you.”

***

“They’re not coming to lunch,” Jeff says as he settles onto the bench at their usual table, a slab of lasagna already somehow congealing on his tray.

“Are they okay?” Eddie asks, dropping his own fork to try to glean any worry on Jeff’s own face.

“Steve was definitely excited when he dragged Chrissy off,” Jeff replies, shrugging. Before Eddie can even spit out his follow-up question, Jeff continues, “no idea what they’re doing, though,” and he closes his mouth.

“I know,” Robin calls from down the table, voice all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie turns to glare at her, but she just keeps grinning around her sandwich, Vickie looking equally lost at her side.

“Are you going to enlighten the rest of the class,” Eddie asks, gesturing to the rest of the table despite clearly being the only one who gives a shit.

Robin grins wider and replies, “it’s a secret,” tauntingly like she knows somehow that word is his ultimate trigger.

Eddie whines, but no one pays him any mind. Even more cruelly, he doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the school day, leaving him flushed and flustered as he rushes home to get ready for their date. 

Unfortunately, it’s Wayne’s day off, so he’s there to heckle Eddie as he changes his outfit enough times to leave his hair a frizzy mop on the top of his head.

“You dressin’ for a date or to be the janitor’s new mop?” Wayne asks, laughing as Eddie rushes past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

Unfortunately, Wayne’s right, so Eddie runs a damp brush through his hair, trying to make the frizziness merge back with the rest of his hair. When it doesn’t really work, Eddie folds his hair into a bun and elects not to look at himself in the mirror again.

With ten minutes to spare, Eddie moves his frantic pacing for the living room, walking back and forth in front of Wayne, fingers gyrating as he tries to keep them from further ruining his hair.

“You really wearing that?” Wayne asks, long since having given up on trying to watch the TV, Eddie’s body too much of a moving obstacle to crane his neck around.

Eddie stops and stares down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with this?”

It’s a more put together version of his usual style: his only pair of black jeans that haven’t gotten any holes yet, clunky boots, still adequately polished from his last date with Steve, a plain black t-shirt, fingers full of rings except the one he keeps bare, the ring still on Steve’s own finger.

“You know what I mean, boy,” Wayne sighs, looking him up and down with so much judgment that Eddie wants to shrivel up and die. “Ain’t the jacket a bit much?”

Eddie fondles the green and white cuff of the jacket’s sleeve. He does a little spin, like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to get a look at the way it hangs on his frame.

Wayne’s right—it looks almost incongruous on him, clashing absurdly with the rest of his outfit, but it’s got Steve’s name on its back, and a small, shivery part of Eddie likes that. Jock courting rituals are absurd, but there’s maybe something to this one.

Maybe Steve will like it, too—his name on Eddie’s back.

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, voice taking on that higher pitch that only dogs can hear. He turns to Wayne, panicky and desperate. “Do you think it’s coming on too strong?”

Wayne’s mouth twists up all sardonic and wry as he snorts and replies, “that boy’s been writing you love notes for months. There ain’t no such thing as too strong, for a thing like that.”

Eddie feels his cheeks warm. He breaks eye contact, looking down the floor as he scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet bashfully.

Before he can voice any of the self-conscious bullshit kicking around in his head, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie snaps his head up and freezes, staring with mounting hysteria at the closed front door until there’s a second knock and he snaps back to life.

“Oh my god, places everybody!” Eddie cries, clutching at his head in panic, undoing all the work he’d done on his hair in one fell swoop.

“I ain’t moving,” Wayne says from the chair.

Eddie rushes past him, skidding to a halt in front of the door. He wastes precious seconds taking a few deep breaths before he swings the door open, fake smile plastered on his face. It melts into something excited and real when he catches sight of Steve.

Steve, who’s wearing the leather jacket Chrissy still hasn't returned. Steve, who’s fiddling with the lapels and blushing self-consciously until he catches sight of Eddie’s own attire and bursts out laughing.

“Great minds think alike, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, smiling down at him.

While on Eddie, the aesthetic mismatch looks bizarre, Steve’s light-wash jeans and green polo somehow only enhance the effect of Eddie’s oversized leather jacket.

“It’s The Return of the King,” Eddie says, looking up and down Steve’s body, smirking before catching sight of his befuddled face. “We’ve really gotta get you up to date on Tolkien.”

“Oh, the hobbit books?” Steve asks, smiling brightly. “I just started the first one. Bilbo’s a pretty cool dude.”

Eddie takes a shuddering breath, heart kicking up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Eddie replies in a hushed tone. Steve Harrington is reading The Hobbit. This fact somehow has him feeling more faint than seeing him in Eddie’s own jacket. He clears his throat, face hot, heartbeat rapid. “Should—should we go?”

His voice squeaks awkwardly, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. He just beams up at Eddie and takes two graceful steps back off the front stoop, holding his arm out to gesture Eddie over the threshold of his own trailer.

Eddie slams the door, muffling Wayne’s embarrassing call of, “have him home by ten!” just in time.

He skips down the steps and latches onto Steve’s held out arm, letting Steve lead him toward his car like a gentleman.

“You know, I think Chrissy and Jeff had some sort of weird sex thing with this jacket?” Eddie asks, shaking his arm demonstratively.

“Yeah, Chrissy told me.”

"Seriously?" Eddie squawks, stopping suddenly enough that he kicks up gravel beneath his boots.

"No, you idiot,” Steve says, laughing at him even as he stops beside him, still holding onto Eddie’s arm.

“Oh, good because—”

“Jeff did.”

Eddie sputters, eyes wide until he turns and sees Steve’s shit-stirring grin. “You’re the worst,” he says, pouting as Steve just starts laughing again. “Why do I even like you?”

That has Steve’s ears turning pink, and his eyes averting to look toward his car, seeming almost shy. “Well,” he starts before cutting himself off when his voice comes out strangely high. He clears his throat and continues, “shall we?”

Steve gestures toward his parked car with his free hand because return of The King or not, this guy’s somehow, inexplicably, a nerd.

Eddie wants to kiss him about it, but they’re in public, already toeing the line of what’s acceptable in polite society, so all he does is squeeze Steve’s arm where it’s still wrapped around his and reply, “we shall.”

There will be time for kisses later—time for all of the things Eddie’s finding he wants to do with Steve Harrington.

They’ve got nothing but time.

The End

If you've read this far, thank you so much! Especially if you've like, reblogged, or commented. It all means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.

This could have gone on for another 50k, I'm sure, but this feels like the right ending to me. It's not a story about Being Together, it's a story about Finding Each Other, and they've both done that, with Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and now with each other <3<3<3

Now, one final shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for both being the best beta a guy can ask for, and to be the one who came up with this idea at all. It literally couldn't exist without you, and I appreciate you so much <3<3<3

[hboww2rewatch]

Welcome to HBO's WWII Fandom Rewatch!

You are cordially invited to join us in watching Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order April 29 - July 14, 2024.

We will be watching three episodes a week and will have prompts to boost fandom creation as we watch together!

You can find the episode schedule and prompts below the cut. Individual posts can be found here and here if you prefer shorter posts.

If you are unable to watch the show at the same time as the schedule, no worries. While we are personally planning to liveblog together the episodes per the schedule, we understand everyone has lives outside of tumblr. Watch whenever you are able - our goal is to bond over our love for these shows and experience them again together. Pop in when you are able! :)

Please tag all your posts during this event with #hboww2rewatch and give us a follow for all updates on the rewatch.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

Schedule:

We are tentatively planning to watch Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays, but that is not set in stone - watch when you are able during the week!

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5

The Pacific E1  (Dec ‘41- Oct ‘42) The Pacific E2  (Oct ‘42) The Pacific E3  (Dec ‘42- Fall ‘43)

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12

Masters of the Air E1  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E2  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E3   (Aug ‘43)

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19

Masters of the Air E4 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E5 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E6 (Oct ‘43)

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26

The Pacific E4  (Dec ‘43) Masters of the Air E7  (march ‘44) Band of Brothers E1  (June ‘44)

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2

Masters of the Air E8  (June ‘44) Band of Brothers E2  (June 6, ‘44) Band of Brothers E3  (June 7, ‘44)

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

The Pacific E5  (Sept ‘44) Band of Brothers E4  (Sept ‘44) The Pacific E6  (Sept-Oct ‘44)

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16

Band of Brothers E5  (Oct ‘44) The Pacific E7  (Oct-Dec ‘44) Band of Brothers E6  (Dec ‘44)

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23

Band of Brothers E7  (Jan ‘45) Band of Brothers E8  (Feb ‘45) The Pacific E8  (Feb ‘45)

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30

Band of Brothers E9  (April ‘45) The Pacific E9  (April-June ‘45) Masters of the Air E9  (Feb-June ‘45)

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7

Band of Brothers E10  (May-Aug ‘45) The Pacific E10  (Aug ‘45) Saving Private Ryan (Bonus event)

Week 11: Mon July 8- Sun July 14 - post rewatch events to encourage fellow fans!

Reblog people’s creations

Leave comments on fics

Consider making a new friend in someone else who participated

Prompts:

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5:

Heading Out

First Fight

Friends

Orange

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12:

Crash

Crew

Superstition

Blue

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19:

Dancing

Reunion

Kinship

Red

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26:

Recuperation

Camp Life

Training

Green

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2:

Tuskeegees

Parachute

Injured

Purple

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

Reunited

Replacement

Airfield

White

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16:

Typewriter

Loss

Cold

Pink

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23:

Shelling

Translation

Wedding

Brown

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30:

Discovery

Humanity

Celebration

Yellow

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7:

Bonding

Adjustment

Sacrifice

Dress Uniform

Black

Week 11 Mon July 8- Sun July 14:

Favorite Crew

Favorite Company

Best Friendship

Humor

Underrated Character

Character + Quote

Headcanons

Crossover

Something Missing

[ilypaigebuckets]

I Hate it Here

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: based off of the tiktok trend from taylor swift’s new album ttpd. in which paige sees the tiktok you made about her.

also posting on my other acc! @kenzlovesyou

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

paige returned home from practice to find you asleep in your shared room. she was sweaty and tired but the sight of you looking so precious made her face soften. she noticed you had a tendency to do that; make her soft.

paige put her bag down and walked up to you, kissing your forehead. “hey y/n, baby. i’m back,” her tone was sweet as she shook you awake, “i’m home!”. you groaned a bit as your eyes fluttered awake. “paigeyyy” you said, still half asleep as your arms reached to hug her. she smiled and reached down to hug you. you nuzzled into her neck, you’d missed her a little extra today. she stood up fully and you got out of your bed, hugging her tightly once again. “babe i’m sweaty. let me shower, then we’ll spend some time ok?” she lightly unhooked your arms from around your neck and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. you sighed, already missing her touch.

you decided to go on to couch and watch a show while you waited for paige to finish showering. after finally settling on a show you spaced out into it, watching intently. paige finally finished showering and came out of the bathroom onto the couch with you. she saw the show you chose and wasn’t particularly interested, but still wanted to spend time with you. you laid your head on her shoulder and snuggled close to her. she looked down at your precious head and kissed the top of it.

she decided to scroll on tiktok while you watched your show. she scrolled past videos on her for you page, not finding anything entertaining enough to like but not boring enough to scroll past without watching. she then switched to her following feed. she watched the dancing video she and kk had made earlier in the day, before practice and laughed to herself. then she stumbled upon your account. you weren’t too active on social media, so it was always a treat for her to view something you’d posted. it was one of those slideshow tiktoks, with a new song from Taylor Swift playing in the background. the first picture was a cute picture of you azzi had taken of you with your hood on your heading, looking grumpywith the words “i hate it here so i will go to”.

paige quickly realized what trend you were participating in and was excited to see what you thought your “secret garden” was. she assumed it would be Uconn, as you’d mentioned how happy going to school here had made you and how it’d brought you out of your shell. she slid to the next photo. “secret gardens in my mind” she read and saw a mirror picture of the two of you. nobody else. just her. she was your secret garden. she mattered most to you. she felt like tearing up. she’d never meant this much to someone. even though it was just a tiktok trend, she was overcome with emotion. “baby?” she looked over at you.

“hm?” you hummed over at her, still immersed in your show.

“hey, welcome back to the real world. i saw the tiktok you made about me. i love you so much. ” she lifted her arm up and put it around you.

“you like it?? it’s not too annoyingly coupley and cringey?” you asked.

“no, y/n. it’s perfect. i wish i could be with you all the time. i love spending time with you.”

you looked at her and smirked. she wasn’t this soft when she first met you. you’d changed her.

“going soft on me, bueckers?”

“OK MOMENT RUINED” she jokingly pushed you off her even though she knew she’d be holding you again not even 2 minutes later.

my first one shot 🥳🥳 ik it’s short but i felt like writing something!! feel free to send in fic requests, dialogue prompts, song lyric prompts, etc! hope you guys like this, ik im not the best writer but i just like to do it for fun!! have a great day/night <3 :)

[aixeko]

──────‹𝟹 SINNERS SAVAGERY ༄ Ѽ✧

IF I'M YOUR SALVATION, WELCOME TO HELL.

2024 Halloween Event | Art credit: Efferwescent on Twitter

𖤐 SINNERS SAVAGERY | or ERISETOBER  is an event that is a mix of Kinktober, Whumptober and Flufftober in a nutshell SMUT, ANGST & FLUFF with Halloween aspects. All prompts are made by me but some of the ones that inspired me are whumptober ofc, and this list. 

𖤐 ONLY HONKAI STAR RAIL AND GENSHIN WOMEN For this year

𖤐 This will be my first time doing the October prompts stuff + I have another event going on so bare with me haha.

𖤐 !! WEEK 1 starts 6 to 13 !! !! WEEK 2 starts 13 to 19 !! !! WEEK 3 starts 20 to 26 !! !! WEEK 4 starts 27 to 31 !!

WEEK 1 | MONSTER AU | | ONESHOT

| Film | TILL DEATH DO US PART | Starring | Kafka as alien symbiote “Venom” x Host!Reader  | Synopsis | A livelihood ripped away by the greed of humankind and faced with impending doom, an alien symbiote by the name of "Kafka" entered your life and made you her host. Originally, the monstrous being harbored one goal: to destroy everything planet Earth had to offer, but plans changed upon meeting you and thus, with her power, you both do whatever it takes to save the planet. Loathing was all that was bestowed toward the extraterrestrial parasitic, but as time passes, a long-lost feeling resurfaces, one that hasn't manifested since your heartbreak; of course, you would rather be brutally killed than confess your endearment. Unbeknownst to you, the woman has suspected you of such intimacy and, with her incredible adaptability to the complex human emotion, has a ploy to make you profess those three special words.

| Film | YOUR LORDSHIP | Starring | Yelan as Leviathan x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis |  When the tempestuous waves crash against the shore and the sky turns a foreboding grey, human shells cower in fear as the mighty lord of the seas, Leviathan, awakens from the darkest pit of the deep, seeking for a human companion to aid her lonely voyage.

WEEK 2 | MYTHOLOGICAL AU | | ONESHOT

| Film | BEYOND THE IMAGINABLE | Starring | Clorinde as Medusa x Blind!Reader | Synopsis | Despised and misunderstood by the world, she was a victim of a scandalous man's wrongdoing, unfairly punished by heaven despite her innocence. During one fortunate day, the woman whose heart had turned to stone melt under the accursed spell of love, wholly captivated by a blind mortal who fell in love with her for who she truly was; even without sight, the virtuous human saw the very essence of her, the beauty within her soul.

| Film | OFFERING OF PURITY | Starring | Raiden Ei as Hades x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis | The townsfolk tell tales of a legend that speaks of how, once in a century, the moon would adorn itself in a deep crimson hue and illuminate its shade onto the world. Under its wrathful light, the god of hell emerges to wreak havoc, and the only way to banish such evil is to offer a youthful virgin mortal; only then will humankind live in another century of prosperity and peace.

WEEK 3 | ANIMATRONICS AU | | SMUTSHOT

| Film | FIVE NIGHTS AT STAR RAIL | Starring | Kafka, Himeko, Blackswan, and Acheron as the FNAF Classic Animatronics x Night-guard!Reader | Synopsis | A newspaper arrives at your doorstep, featuring a job opening for a night guard position at the famous Star Rail Pizzeria. Struggling financially, you quickly seize the golden opportunity. The job's only requirement is 5 nights of work, and if you succeed, you'll be hired as an official employee; what could possibly go wrong?

WEEK 4 | SLASHER/SERIAL KILLER AU

| Film | MINDFUCK | Starring | Slasher!Arlecchino x Investigative-Psychologist!Reader | Synopsis | Demons linger where shadows play; in silence, hearts betray, whispers echo, and desires catch fire in the haunting depths of the night. With every kiss, a scythe may cut, in which terror envelops one's gut; together they dance on the edge of fate, finding beauty in a love that is too late. So let the night weave its spell, for in the dark they know so well, and though demons are whispering fright, in their twilight, the lights are ignited.

[crescenthistory]

b.11 w/ paul atreides please <3

i hadn't realised how much i missed writing for paul, my best boy. thank you for your request love<3

Prompt: B.11 "Come back to bed"

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: not proofread, tooth-rotting fluff, insomnia, talk of anxiety and feeling the pressure of leadership, cuddles and kisses

Note: again, in my mind this is the same paul and reader as in in the silence, there is an us just because i love them and they both clearly cannot sleep without each other

The cool desert air wrapped around you as you stirred from your barely-there-sleep. The bed felt too big, too cold, and as you stretched out a hand to be lulled back to sleep by Paul’s breathing you knew why – he was gone. Your fingers drifted across the blankets, but only touched emptiness where his warmth should have been.

You sighed, rolling onto your back as your eyes adjusted to the faint light filtering into the room. The Sietch was quiet, but you could still hear the distant murmurs of the desert, the occasional soft sound of wind brushing over the sand. In theory a comforting sound that should help you fall asleep, but you knew from experience that without Paul there, your body refused to settle. Neither would your mind, spinning with worry for your sweet boy who was rapidly turning into a strong man, overworked and drawn too taut the past few months.

Paul had been doing this more often lately, slipping away in the middle of the night, drawn in by the weight of his responsibilities, the relentless pull of being Muad'Dib. You saw that familiar gleam in his eyes slipping more and more, and you ached to inspire it back into existence. That burden was not just his to carry, but you knew that was difficult for him to fully accept, which is why you made it your mission to remind him.

With a soft groan, you sat up, wrapping your shawl around your shoulders to chase away the chill. You knew Paul was not coming back on his own, so you would bring him back. No one can save the world with 2 hours of sleep.

You padded softly through the halls of the Sietch, navigating the familiar paths that had somehow become home. While your mind still spun with all the changes you had had to face, Paul remained your constant and you were determined to keep it as such, grounding him into all he was and all he did. It didn’t take you long to find him, he was exactly where you expected – his private makeshift study, hunched over a table littered with charts and maps of the desert. 

You lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. He had his back to you, shoulders tense with focus and hair still mussed from sleep. You could see the twirls you had made in it by the nape of his neck as you were falling asleep. 

There was a certain beauty to him like this, lost in thought, the weight of leadership heavy on his lean frame, but you knew what it was doing to him, too. You saw the way his eyes darkened when he thought no one was watching, how the weight of being the Kwisatz Haderach pulled him further and further into himself. The worry served a purpose in the daylight, but you couldn’t let him disappear into that tonight.

With a soft smile, you crossed the room, your bare feet making almost no sound as you came up behind him. Yet you could see he knew you were there by the way he sat up a bit straighter, ready to lean into the touch he knew was coming. Without a word, you slipped your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against his back.

“Paul,” you whispered, leaning your head against him, breathing him in. “It’s late. Come back to bed.”

He let out a breath, leaning into your touch as his hand instinctively moved to rest over yours where they clasped at his chest. 

“My love, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, though his eyes were still fixed on the maps in front of him.

“You didn’t,” you said softly, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Just missed you.” 

Paul let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, though he didn’t make a move to get up. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, his mind still half-lost in whatever plans were swirling in his head. “There’s… too much to think about,” he finally said, voice low. “I just need to finish–”

“No,” you interrupted gently, tightening your arms around him. “What you need is to come to bed and get some rest while you can.”

He sighed, tilting his head slightly to rest against yours. “You sound like my mother,” he teased, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

You smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “Then you should listen to her,” you said playfully, your breath warm against his skin. “Despite her peculiarities, she is very wise.”

“Mmm, you might be right,” he admitted, turning his head just enough to catch your eye. His lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “But she doesn’t quite have your charm.”

You grinned, brushing his hair back with your fingers. “Flattery won’t get you out of this, Paul. Come back to bed. Your maps will still be here tomorrow.”

His smile faded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the table. “I don’t know if I can. I can’t stop thinking about it all,” he admitted, quieter now. “The future, the Fremen, everything I have to do. It’s… always there.”

You frowned softly, shifting to hug him from the side, so you could see his face better. “I know, love, but that is not yours to carry right now,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “Not tonight. You’ve done more than enough.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but you could feel the tension slowly draining from him as your fingers continued to comb soothingly through his hair. His body relaxed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned into your touch. He tilted his head back just enough to rest it against your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“You always know how to make me calm down,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. “It’s dangerous, you know. I might never get anything done if I listen to you all the time.”

You chuckled, brushing a kiss against his temple. “I think you could use a little less getting things done and a little more sleep. I promise to use my persuasion to kick you back into sleep tomorrow.”

“I’ve noticed you seem particularly invested in my sleep schedule,” Paul teased, opening one eye to look up at you. “Should I be concerned?”

You smiled down at him, your heart warming at the familiar lightness in his tone, the teasing he only ever reserved for you. “Very concerned,” you said in mock seriousness. “Especially since I can’t sleep without you there.”

His face softened, the teasing giving way to something more tender. He turned fully in your arms, slipping his hands around your waist and pulling you close in between his legs until your foreheads touched. “I can’t sleep without you, either, you know,” he confessed quietly, his breath warm against your lips. “You… ground me. In ways no one else can.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. Familiar words, yet they never ceased to warm you. “I know,” you cooed. “Then let me ground you tonight. Come back to bed with me.”

He stared into your eyes for a long moment, and you could see the struggle there – the pull of duty versus the need for rest. But in the end, he sighed, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “Alright,” he whispered. “I’m coming.”

“Good,” you said with a grin, tugging at his hand as you led him away from the table, back toward the bed waiting to be warmed up by the both of you. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

As you reached the bed, Paul wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down with him in a tangle of blankets and limbs. You let out a soft laugh as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, placing sweet kisses there, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he began, his voice muffled against you, “I’d say you’re trying to distract me from my very important work.”

“Very important work,” you echoed with a laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “It can wait, Paul. I’m your very important work tonight.”

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your ear. “You make a compelling argument.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

For a while, you just lay there together, his body pressed against yours, the quiet of the Sietch wrapping around you both like a protective cocoon. The world outside faded into the background. Here, in the soft glow of the night, it was just you and your Paul. 

“Thank you,” he whispered after a while, his voice sincere and, to your glee, sleepy.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his bedhead. “Always.”

Neither of you woke up again throughout the night as you slept soundly in each other’s arms.

[natimiles]

KINKTOBER 2024

@natimiles | @valkyyriia

It’s that time of the year! Come out of your shell and let’s go!

⊱ We thought of this list with Ikemen Series in mind, but it works with any fandom you enjoy (probably). ⊱ If you don’t like any of the prompts for the day, feel free to use another one you haven’t used yet. ⊱ Minors: don’t interact with this post or anything related to this.

Kinkipedia and prompts transcription under the cut

KINKIPEDIA:

⊱ Intercrural: between the thighs. ⊱ Dacryphilia: attraction to tears/crying. ⊱ A/B/O (Omegaverse): dominance hierarchy divided into dominant alphas, neutral betas, and submissive omegas. ⊱ Spitroasting: two people penetrate a single sexual partner at the same time, one orally and the other vaginally/anally. ⊱ Non-Genital Orgasm: cumming without touching.

PROMPTS:

1. Bondage | Role Reversal 2. Pussy/Cock Worship | Roleplay 3. Face Sitting | Intercrural Sex 4. Food Play | Biting / Marking 5. Pussy/Cockdrunk | Double Penetration 6. Voice Kink | Discipline/Punishment 7. Size Kink | Blood Play 8. Temperature Play | Rough Sex 9. Impact Play | Guided Masturbation 10. Cockwarming | Face Fucking 11. Mirror Sex | Oral 12. Voyeurism/Exhibitionism | Edging 13. Dirty Talk | Dacryphilia 14. Overstimulation | Toys 15. Predator/Prey | Degradation 16. Pegging/Anal | First Time 17. Breeding | Orgasm Denial 18. Praise Kink | A/B/O  19. Petplay | Blindfold 20. Body Worship | Daddy/Mommy Kink 21. Begging | Sensation Play  22. Mutual Masturbation | Hate/Angry Sex 23. Polyamory | Spitroasting 24. Somnophilia | Against the Wall 25. Non-Genital Orgasm | Multiple Orgasms 26. Outdoors / Public | Breath Play 27. Lingerie | Teasing 28. Wax Play | Foreplay  29. Shower/Bath | Gagging 30. Jealous Sex | Window/Balcony 31. Free Day!

[artyandink]

whiskey, baby

SUMMARY: Dean’s no longer a demon, and in order to deal with the horrors of all that he’s said and done he retreated into his own shell. Drowning himself in whiskey and his own problems because that’s all there’s left to do. Then there’s you, his demon self’s esteemed fuck buddy, who comes up with a two step plan to feeling good, only for a little while. Step 1? Let you take the reins. Step 2? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

TW: MOC!Dean, angst, demon trauma, post demon!Dean, Reader’s not a stone cold bitch and actually worries about Dean in this but in her own weird way, Dean doesn’t hate her for an odd reason, smut

STW: switch!Dean, riding, oral (m + f receiving), temperature + whiskey play, lipstick play (does it count?), marking, switch!reader, thigh riding (brief), pussydrunk!Dean, fingering, face sitting, ass slapping, thigh slapping, slight overstimulation, ring kink implied, major praise kink, dirty talk, damage of clothes, vocal Dean, threat of exhibitionism

A/N: Yes, this is a sequel to lipstick, baby, and you guys can make the comparison between Dean as a demon during the smutty parts and Dean post demon and more aware. Hope you enjoy!

NOW PLAYING: RIVER - BISHOP BRIGGS

Dean felt kinda empty, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Being a demon didn’t suit him at all, and now that it was over he was left to deal with the reality of it all. The killing, punching people’s lights out, hurting Sammy, hurting in general— he hated it with every fibre of his fucking being.

“Fuck.” Dean growled under his breath, staring at himself in the mirror and finding he just couldn’t damn do it, looking away after barely five seconds because holy hell, he wanted to smash the mirror in just to please the Mark throbbing on the skin of his forearm. “Shut up, why don’t you, you… I don’t even know what you are.” He hissed at the Mark, but it didn’t shut up or stop pulsing.

The bunker door being banged on drew his attention away from his own flaws - thank God, if the bastard even existed - and prompted Dean to walk out of his bathroom, grunting an affirmation that yes, he was coming to whoever was behind the door.

When he wrenched it open with an expression that looked like the human equivalent of a ticked off chihuahua, he saw… you. Oh, fuck, oh, shit, you. The woman that he as a demon had incredible sexual escapades that may or may not have been the star of his dreams for weeks on end after the whole demon thing got cured. Pouring the whiskey on your body, you riding him till you both were spent— it felt almost lucid.

“You.” Dean murmured hoarsely, his throat feeling dry upon the sight of you and your gorgeous, sexy self. Today you were in denim shorts and fishnet tights - of course you were in something that made his senses go wild - with the same red plaid that was buttoned up this time, tucked in and the sleeves rolled to your elbows.

He kind of felt a little out of place. Out of place in his own home— that’s the kind of effect you had.

“Gee, how enthusiastic.” You drawled, leaning against the doorframe, brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “I really thought you’d be more inclined to see me, Dean, I’m partially offended.” You gave him a cheeky smirk, then grasped what was in the bag, showing him the neck of a bottle of Jack.

Oh. That changes things.

Dean’s lip twitched up at the sight, warming up to you like he would when drinking the good stuff. Then again, he knew that deep in that roughed up heart of his, he had a soft spot for you in particular. “That’s my girl.” He took the bottle, examining it with a chuckle as he let you inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“So, Dean, how’ve you been?” You asked, following behind him, your boots clicking on the tile of the bunker’s floor. You looked around, pouting in approval at what you saw. Place was damn impressive. But you were also perceptive to Dean. The way he clutched that bottle like a vice, the slight tightness in his gait, the set of his brow. All subtle, but you’d had sex with this man enough times to know when something bothers him.

What? You were perceptive during sex too, you’re not only in it for the physical stuff. You’re not a monster.

However, Dean just shrugged, making a grumble of an ‘eh’, ambling with you towards his bedroom. “As good as a man can be, sweetheart. You?” Bullshit.

“I mean, how’ve you really been?” The question stopped him dead in his tracks, and he swallowed, eyes furtively glancing to you in a way that screamed ‘oh, shit’. But he didn’t say anything, just prompted him to trudge up to his bedroom, you following, rolling your eyes.

Dean Winchester was the sexiest man alive, but… my god, was he irritating sometimes.

“Three fingers, sweetheart?” Dean asked you as you stepped over the threshold to his bedroom, the guns and random trinkets he’d collected adorning the place as usual. His bed was messy, pillow and blanket askew, which he tried to sort out but only ended up messing it up further.

You smirked, winking as you closed the door behind you, kicking off your boots and moving to sit beside him on the bed, cross legged while he was propped on his hand, legs outstretched. “You know I can take it, handsome, don’t be shy.”

Dean couldn’t stop the visual from popping up in his head. Damn demon him for being so attracted to you. Then again, he couldn’t really say anything.

He poured you three fingers of whiskey in a glass and handed it to you with a soft grunt under his breath, his eyes flicking over you for the umpteenth time before pouring his own. “Here y’ go.”

“Cheers.” You smiled, clinking your glass with his before sipping some of it. “I know you better than you think, y’ know that? You’re struggling, even a blind man can see that one.”

Dean just grunted again, shaking his head. “M’ fine, darlin’. Don’t sweat it.”

“Don’t sweat it? Damn, you really are struggling.” You snorted, taking another sip of your whiskey. “C’mere, babe.”

Dean scooted closer, clearly not anticipating how your lips would ghost his jaw before pressing an open mouthed kiss to it, humming and sucking on the skin, making his breath hitch and eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Darlin’—”

“Shh.” You continued kissing down his stubble, drawing a quiet moan from him, not protesting as you plucked the whiskey from his hands and set it on the bedside table, guiding his hand to your hair.

Fuck. This is what he gets, for not having a woman’s touch in a while.

“Mm, baby.” Dean couldn’t help but groan, especially as your hands pulled off his flannel — wait, when did you unbutton that thing? — and tossed it aside, his back hitting the mattress, eyes hazy and hands flying to your soft thighs as you straddled him.

Not like he was roofied, he just felt so drunk. Not on whiskey, but on you, your lips, your gorgeous body.

Now he saw why his demon self liked you so much.

He exposed his neck to you, which earned a hum of approval from you, your hand cupping the side of it as your thumb brushed his pulse. “Attaboy.” You whispered, one hand smoothing back his hair (the whimper that left him was almost embarrassing). “Lemme take your mind off things.”

You returned the favour from the first time, grabbing the whiskey glass and pouring the contents on his chest, the cold compared with your warm body making Dean shiver.

His belt clattered to the floor.

Jeans went after.

And your tongue was on his chest.

Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen something filthier in his life, it rivalled the likes of Casa Erotica— your tongue flattening against the divots and ridges of his muscle as you collected the burn of the whiskey on your tongue, moving down and down, kissing his v-line, nuzzling his thighs.

“Don’t you stop, sweetheart.” Dean pleaded, voice strangled, hips bucking as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his cock, which was already needy for you.

Damn, the effect you had on him was ethereal.

You chuckled, licking from his base to his tip while your thumb spread his precome, his hips bucking into your hand with a needy whine. “Not gonna stop, don’t you worry.”

“Gonna taste you,” He panted, his skin glowing already with a thin layer of sweat as his hand twisted in your hair, “when this is done. Mark my words, pretty girl, gonna eat you dumb— son of a bitch.”

“Looking forward to it.” You murmured before you took him into your mouth, working him fast while grinding into the bed.

The sight of him with his head tossed back, eyes rolled and freckled cheeks flushed like that was incredibly hot, ok? Don’t blame a woman.

You pulled off him to suck at his tip, which had him fisting the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in bliss. “So good, handsome. Taste so good.” You murmured, which earned you a sinful whimper.

Praise kink. Noted.

Your signature scarlet lipstick smeared on him — good — and left your mark, sucking and licking until Dean came, spilling into your mouth, but you’re a trooper, so you swallowed the whole thing.

Before you could register, however, you were being yanked up the bed and Dean’s hands were undoing your shorts, shoving them down — ripping your panties — and taking your fishnets to your knees, hauling you onto his face and barely letting you register before his tongue fucked into your soaking pussy, your eyes rolling back like his did, moaning in sync as one hand shot to the headboard and the other his hair.

His hands were so fucking reverent, gliding up your thighs, kneading them, one moving to deliver a light smack and grope to your ass, moaning when you began to grind down onto his tongue because you just couldn’t help it.

And then his hand slid up your back, around to your front, unbuttoning your plaid so his fingers could pay extra attention to your nipples (you would obviously show up to his house braless, y’all out there’d understand) as one long, thick finger thrusted up into your pussy, ring pressing against your g-spot in a way that had his name tearing from your throat.

How was normal Dean better than demon Dean? Or Deanmon. Whatever, either way, he was fucking you right.

“What if Sammy comes back, huh?” Dean growled into your cunt, licking every inch of it while he pushed a second finger into you, then a third, stretching you out and sending vibrations and electricity through your body. “Gonna give him a show, sweetheart? Show him how much you fucking need me?”

He ripped an orgasm from you, drinking it up like he was parched before flipping you over, getting your plaid off and entering you in one clean stroke while his mouth enveloped your nipple, sucking and nibbling.

“Shit, Dean!” You cried out, the first coherent sentence you could make since you rode his face and even that meant don’t you dare stop. And if any other man threatened you with exhibitionism you’d probably slap him and leave.

But this was Dean Winchester, so you’d make a thousand exceptions as long as he fucked your legs out.

He marked your neck, pounding into you like he just couldn’t help it, entwining your hands and pinning them above your head. “F-Fuck, baby girl. So tight— shit. Could fuck this pretty pussy forever.” He rolled over, putting you on top, and you took the cue to ride him, moans in tandem as Dean reached down to rub your clit. “Ride me, baby, c’mon. Give it to me, need it all. Please, need all’a you.”

Well, how could you say no?

“So good,” You panted, which earned a whimpering moan from Dean. “Gonna give it all to you, promise.” You clenching around him and his cock’s ride brushing your g-spot and all of it reaching places you didn’t know you had sent you over the edge, and before you’d realised it, he’d come before you with a strangled grunt of your name, hands moving to your hips to help you through your high despite being in it himself.

Once you’d come down from your high, and he his, you pulled off him, collapsing on the bed next to him, both of you flushed red, panting and so damn satisfied.

“C’mere.” Dean rasped, holding a hand out to you, and you were confused. The hell is he doing? “C’mere, baby.” He looked positively wrecked — you most likely did too — but that didn’t distract you.

“Why?” You tilted your head, pushing sweaty strands out from your face.

“To cuddle, why else?” Wow, he was a secure man, saying it outright like that. “I wanna hold you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t hold you as a demon. Nobody had.

So you scooted up to him, laying your head on his chest and allowing his arm to rest around your waist, other one acting as a pillow underneath his head.

Dean felt upset that demon him hadn’t taken the courtesy to hold this gorgeous woman, but now’s not the time to address that.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” He kissed your hair, “I needed that.”

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[sgdlr-asdfghjkl]

All short comics I did for @shiguangfluffweek 🌟🙏

Day 1: Cake/Party 🥳🍰 How I imagine s2 finale behind the scenes:

Day 2: Beach 🐚🌊 Shiguang sharing halves of a same shell😊The shell is specifically of a Cardiidae mollusc we have in Poland, they're shaped like a heart (hence their name 'cardium' meaning heart) 💗

Day 7: First times ⌚You trapped us in a timeloop but it's where I get to fall in love with you every time and I am given endless chances to say it back 💙🧡🤍🖤

Yeah I only managed to do 3 prompts, but tbh I'm proud I did anything 💪

[pearlywritings]

Distracted

synopsis: is what you are when it comes to your husband's marvelous hands

prompt: 19

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Ayato Kamisato x fem!reader

tw: smut, established relationship, fingering

word count: 1k+ words in total

a/n: part of my Token of appreciation writing event! Closed now, still have 2 more requests to write

“I am wondering what could be so distracting that you couldn't hear my voice anymore.”

“Your hands.”

This small interaction, this seemingly innocent admission of yours was what led to this situation. But how could it not? Your husband's hands are elegant - from thin wrists to long fingers with well-manicured nails. Skin milky and smooth is pleasant to touch, caress the backs of his hands, sliding your fingers right in-between his, but you also love the messy look of them after a training session or getting some tiny specks of ink from the hours spent over the paperwork.

Or completely soaked with your arousal.

“You can’t stop squirming, can you?” The teasing lilt in your husband’s voice is ever-present, but now is laced with desire. Your back arches harder, head lolling to the crook between his neck and shoulder, hot breath fanning against his chin. Two of your beloved’s fingers slowly drag against your clenching walls, drawing more needy gasps and occasional swipe on your clit with his thumb earns Ayato a soft moan.

“Can’t help it…” You murmur, reaching a hand to play with a longer lock of his blue hair. “Your fingers are just…”

“Too distracting?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Oh, come on…” You quietly whine, embarrassed. After all, you didn’t expect your honest answer to backfire at you in such a form: back then Ayato immediately abandoned his calligraphy practice and urged you onto bed as he momentarily exited the bedroom to wash his hands. The hands that in a minute were tugging your clothes off till you ended up completely naked and now those slim fingers are stuffed into your pussy as you are sitting between his spread legs, leaning back onto him.

“You are so pretty… Archons, my wife is so pretty like this,” as if reading your mind, the man admires the position he put you in. He can easily see over your shoulder how he disappears inside you to the knuckles and reappears all wet and sticky. “Look down for me, princess. Please, look at yourself.”

“But then…mm…I’ll be distracted a-ah-gain…” You try to object, but your husband only smiles, bringing a free hand to your chin, turning your head to look you in the eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” a sweet kiss is pressed against your lips and he purposefully presses on your g-spot to swallow an equally sweet cry of yours. To the Abyss his long fingers!

Once separated, Ayato lets his hand fall to your breast, teasing neglected nipple with a pad of his digit. Your gaze lowers to where his hand has occupied space between your legs and you nearly choke on a gasp. His hand is drenched in your juices.

“Like what you see?” Another tease that makes your heart skip a beat and a little nibble he gives the shell of your ear that leaves you breathless. “Just imagine how nicely it would look with my dick stretching you.”

A skillful flick of his wrist and your lover starts hitting that spongy spot inside you with scaring precision. Realization slips through the thickening fog in your head - all this time he’s been just playing with you.

“A-ayato-!” Your voice cracks when the pulsing in your core intensifies. It doesn’t decrease the speed of your approaching orgasm how he cups your breast and gently tugs on a hardened bud. Thumb returns to your clit permanently, drawing tight circles on a puffy nub, eliciting delicious moans out of your throat.

Your soles dig into the mattress, your back is once again arched and head thrown onto his shoulder; fingers desperately tug onto the material of his domestic robe, creasing it onto his thighs. Trying to anchor yourself in place, you involuntarily rock your rear against his aching cock and Ayato, your publically prim and proper husband, curses. Lewdly.

“Fuck... Y/n, please, just like that- mmm, rub yourself on me, rub on me, rub on me,” he whispers into your ear, breathing heavily, speeding thrusting of his fingers and releasing your chest to wrap an arm around your middle, pressing you into him. “You feel so good, you are so soft- Archons!”

You mewl, overwhelmed, clenching around his digits, practically leaking onto the sheets - he’s been toying with your poor cunt for so long. So it’s no surprise that when he tells you to cum - you do.

Ayato drinks in the sight of your release, he imprints into his memory the images of your throbbing clit, of convulsing clenches of the ring of muscles, tightly wrapped around his still moving fingers, of your heavily rising and falling chest, nipples alluringly erected, of your quivering lips and lidded eyes, eyelashes fluttering like the butterfly’s wings. You are the image of perfection and that’s what a man like Kamisato Ayato always strikes for.

Finally, he stills the movement and carefully, not to abuse your pure nerves even more, takes the fingers out. Resting that soaked palm on your thigh, he reaches his cleaner hand to brush away the stray hairs that stuck to your face, creating a debauched visage of his gorgeous wife. He notices how your eyes follow the ministrations, blown pupils locked on what has started this whole ordeal, and the man can’t help but tease you some more.

“Distracted again?” 

“Mhm…” Guess, not that much, if you manage to answer him. Look, you even try to stretch your bent legs. “You would be too if I had hands as pretty as yours.”

“But yours are pretty,” he reaches to take the one closer to him and bring it to his lips, kissing the inside of the wrist. “I am just better at hiding my distracted state.”

“Oh… So you say…” You bite your lip but still push your body to straighten in your sitting position, to slightly turn. Ayato patiently waits as you get comfortable against his raised knee and thigh, body now half-turned to speak face to face. “You say if I was to stroke your dick just the way you like, your attention wouldn’t stray from the conversation we might have?”

Your husband swallows thickly, yet his shaft twitches. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though, and with the most saccharine smile, your palm envelopes the prominent bulge under his robe.

“Let’s test it out then~”

[cosyvelvetorchid]

buck/tommy: single dad tommy looses his son who wanders off after a fire engine. firefigher buck to the rescue

This was such a freaking adorable prompt! Thank you!

As always you can send me bucktommy, saltommy, or Tommy prompts to my ask. Fluff or smut or both. 🩶

*****

"Lucas can you please put your shoes on?" Tommy called out from the kitchen. He could still hear the cartoon blaring from the living room. More than once he'd imagined what harm he'd like to cause the person who invented Bluey. He finished packing their lunches, shoving them into his bag, and grabbed his phone and car keys before walking into the living room and turning off the TV. Lucas whined.

"You have 5 seconds to put your shoes on or you won't be riding the engine." He told him sternly. "5..4.." The 4 year old knew daddy meant business and quickly ran to the door and put on his shoes. "Good boy." Tommy smiled and lead him out to the car.

He was taking him to the annual community fire safety event they held down town. There were lots of exciting things for kids to do - rides, entertainers, and of course a chance to sit in a real engine! Usually Tommy would be working it but this year he had actually managed to get the day off to take his son.

Lucas had been buzzing with excitement about it since Tommy had first told him about it last week. He was counting down the sleeps like he did at Christmas. It had been the first thing he'd gotten excited about since his mom had died the previous year.

He was only 3 when she died and he didn't really understand what death meant, just that mommy was in heaven with the angels. But he certainly felt the loss of his mother. His personality was diluted. Tommy had taken him to a therapist specialising in grief therapy for children, and slowly but surely he began coming out of his shell more.

Evangelina and Tommy had been best friends since they were teenagers. The type of friendship where even when they lost contact for months or even years because of all the things they each had going on in their lives, when they reconnected it felt like no time had gone by.

5 years ago she had asked Tommy to help her get pregnant. She was desperate to be a mother but she was single and time was running out. They had many, many conversations about how it would work, how they would co-parent.. if Tommy even wanted to. They decided that if she were to get pregnant, when the kid was older they'd tell them about how they came to be, but until that point he would be Uncle Tommy.

As it happened, one trip the the fertility clinic, 1 donation and 1 insemination and Evangelina had a bun in the oven. The first few months of her pregnancy went like clockwork. Until the 2nd trimester when she found a lump in her breast. Cancer. Stage 3. She was given 2 options. Terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment, or delay treatment until the baby was born, which would risk the cancer spreading. She chose the latter. After many arguments with Tommy about it, he finally accepted that this was what she wanted.

Watching his son being born was the most beautiful thing Tommy had ever witnessed. He didn't think a human heart had the capacity for that much love. Sadly, within days of Lucas' birth they received the devastating news that Evangelinas cancer had spread to her lymph nodes and other organs. It was terminal. She fought like hell to live, but a month after Lucas' 3rd birthday she passed away.

"Come on, little man. Let's go see some fire trucks!" Tommy let him out of the car, taking his hand.

"Daddy look!" He pointed to a a giant Bluey mascot dressed in turn out gear. Tommy cursed under his breath. He couldn't get away from that little blue shit. "Can we go see him?" Lucas asked.

"Of course, buddy." He said with a smile leading him over. As much as Tommy couldn't stand that damn dog, the smile on his sons face was worth it. After that they rode the teacups, Lucas met some real life firefighters (that weren't his dad), he got to sit in an ambulance and blare the sirens, and he got given so many free stickers Tommy was already imagining having to remove them from the furniture at home.

There was one more thing to do and that was to sit in an engine. Except, what Lucas didn't know was that Tommy had organised with Capt Nash of the 118 a surprise ride in the truck. But first lunch needed to be eaten. A hangry 4 year old was not what anybody needed to deal with on a Sunday afternoon.

They found a picnic table and Tommy handed Lucas his sandwiches and chips. But in the rush trying to Lucas out of the door he'd forgotten the drinks.

"Shi-shoot!" He corrected himself. Trying to police his swearing wasn't easy now that Lucas was of an age where he repeated everything he heard. Thankfully there was a booth in the picnic area that served drinks.

"Lucas, I'm going to get us something to drink. I need you to stay right here, okay? I'll just be over there-" He pointed to the booth no more than 7 or 8 meters away "-you can see me the whole time."

"Okay." Lucas sang.

"You stay here, okay? You must not get off this bench. Do you understand?"

"Yep." He replied, peanut butter and jam smeared all around his mouth. Tommy walked to the booth, looking back every few seconds to make sure Lucas was where he should be. The lady in front of him in the line dropped her purse, spilling it everywhere. It only took Tommy 10 seconds to help her pick everything up but by the time he stood back up and looked to Lucas he was gone.

His heart immediately thunder against his chest.

"Lucas?!" He called out running over to the table. "Lucas!" He looked around. He was nowhere to be seen. Panic began to set in. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. This had happened before in a grocery store a few months before and after Tommy spent 15 minutes freaking out, multiple calls over the annoy and a call to the police, Lucas was found at the other end of the store watching Bluey on one of the TVs.

There were tonnes of things at this event that a child would gravitate towards. He probably made a beeline for the Bluey mascot or an engine. No, Tommy wasn't going to freak out yet. He'd look for a few minutes first then get security.

***

"Buck have you given away ALL the candy?" Eddie asked.

"What? They're all just so adorable I couldn't say no!" Buck tried defending himself.

"You're such a push over." Eddie told him. "I'm gonna go get a coffee. I'll be back in 5." Buck waved him away as he bent down to the 4 year old standing in front of him.

"Hi" He said with a big smile. "Whats you're name?"

"Umm.. I'm not s'posed to say. You're a..a stranger."

"Thats good thinking. You're absolutely right." Buck looked around but there were no other adults in the vicinity that looked like they could be this kids parents. "Hey Buddy, are you parents here?"

"My daddy brought me to see the firetrucks." The kid told him.

"Well that's a cool dad you have, huh? Hey do you known where he is? Can you see him?" The boy looked around and lifted his hands up in an exaggerated shrug.

"Okay. Well you see this?" He pointed to the radio on his chest. "This is my very special radio. I can talk to some very cool people and maybe they can find your dad. How does that sound?"

"Okay." The boy said.

"Do you think it would be okay if you told me your name? That way I can tell my friend on the radio and it will help us find your dad." Buck asked. The boy thought about it for a second.

"My name is Lucas."

"It's nice to meet you Lucas. My name is Buck. You wanna sit in the truck while I radio my friend?"

"Yeah!" He said excitedly. Buck opened the door and lifted him up onto the seat, before getting on the radio. "Hey Cap?"

"Captain Nash here. What is is Buck?"

"I gotta kid here that seems to be lost."

"Im with Sergeant Grant now. Can you describe the kid?"

"How old are you buddy?" He asked Lucas.

"Im 4"

"He says he's 4 years old, names Lucas. Dark curly hair, wearing blue jeans and a black tshirt with a helicopter on it." He spoke into the radio.

"This is sergeant Grant. We have the father here. Where is the boy now?"

"I've got him in the engine."

"Keep him there, we're on the way."

"Good news, your dad's on the way." He told Lucas.

"My daddy is a fireman too." He said

"He is?"

"Yeah. He.. he flies helicopters too!" He said pointing to the picture on his shirt.

"Wow that is very cool!" Buck said. "You wanna put the lights and sirens on?"

"Yeah!"

"First things first, before we go to an emergency we have to be safe. So.." he grabbed a helmet from the back and gently placed in on Lucas' head. "There we go, now you're ready. See that button right there? Press it." Lucas leaned forward and pressed it and the sirens rang out.

"Woah!" Lucas cried out with a big smile. Buck smiled back, his heart melting at how adorable this kid was.

"Daddy!" He shouted pointing through the windscreen. Cap and Athena walked towards the engine with an unfamiliar man. Something shifted in Bucks stomach at the sight of him. He was tall, with a large muscular frame. A piece of his dark curly hair had fallen onto his face. Buck suddenly felt nervous. Buck switched off the siren.

"Lucas?" The man called as they reached the engine.

"Daddy! I got to put on the siren!" He said as Buck removed the helmet from him and lifted him down. The man bent down to his eyeline.

"Lucas, how many times have I told you, you cannot wall off like that? It really scares daddy when you do that." His voice was soft but strained. He hugged the boy tightly. Bucks chest tightened at the image in front of him of a scared father.

"Im sorry daddy."

"It's okay buddy." He kissed the top of his head and stood up. His eyes met Bucks and he caught a breath. The man in front of him was gorgeous. As tall as him with a slightly smaller build but long legs. He had an adorable pink birthmark by his left eyebrow underneath a head of gentle dirty blonde curls.

"Were you the one who found my kid?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah. Bu.. Evan. Evan Buckley."

Evan. Tommy couldn't help notice the similarity. Evangelina was all about signs from the universe, which He'd always waved away as hocum. But now..

"Tommy Kinard." He responded, somehow feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Thank you. For finding him." He smiled. Something about those smile lines around his eyes made Bucks heart beat a little faster.

"He actually found me if I'm honest." He laughed. Tommy looked at his son.

"I need to put bells on this kid I swear." He said. Buck smiled and Tommys mouth went dry.

"Hey Tommy, you still want that surpise thing?" Bobby asked walking over.

"So long as my kid stays in the damn truck, sure."

"What surpise?" Buck asked confused.

"Well-" Tommy said lifting Lucas up into his arms "-how would you like to go on a real life ride on an engine?" He asked Lucas.

"Can I daddy?" Lucas asked practically vibrating.

"I don't know. What do you think Captain Nash?" Tommy turned them to face him.

"I think that would be okay." He smiled.

"Well let's go then!" Tommy said to Lucas putting him the back of the engine.

"Buck, Eddie is dealing with a broken ankle by the teacups, so I need you to jump in." Bobby told him.

"Got it Cap." He jumped in the back as cap got in the drivers seat. Tommy buckled Lucas in, they he snd Buck sat either side of him. They caught eachothers gaze and held it for a few moments. Something sparked in both of their chests.

"You ready, kid?" Bobby called from the front.

"Yeah!"

"Here we go!" Bobby put the sirens on and turned on the engine.

[targaryen-dynasty]

LOVE ME TOMORROW (aka Stay)

Part 2

modern!Aemond Targaryen x best friend!Reader

You always thought the benefits part only included sex, but with Aemond it also seems to include cuddling, life advice and breakfast.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; profanity, p in v, missionary, doggy style, choking, degrading, humiliating, unprotected sex, size kink, slight breeding kink, praise kink, rough sex, friends with benefits kinda turning into a relationship, fluff, teasing, jealous Aemond Targaryen, female Reader

WORDS: 3.5 k

NOTES: Used a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting for this. Smut below the cut.

The thing between you and Aemond had been going on for roughly five months at this point. Was it even a thing? You both were hooking up with each other whenever you felt like it. Sometimes it was only one message a week exchanged between your two, other times it was seven. That usually depended on how busy you both were with college, or how badly one of you needed a distraction from it. And you always kept things casual.

But weirdly, some things had turned into habits you both did not bother to address. 

Whenever Aemond and you hooked up at your place, he tended to stay a little longer than anticipated, like one-movie-and-two-rounds-of-fucking long. You always thought the benefits part of being friends with benefits only included sex, but with Aemond it also seemed to include cuddling and life advice.

Another weird habit was that the both of you never seemed to settle on just watching movies anymore, and instead did the most domestic things together. The movie was just to give you both some background noises, whilst you showed him some funny memes or he decided to rant about whatever pissed him off that day. 

So, technically, your friends with benefits situationship was dangerously close to turning into a relationship. 

But neither of you felt bold enough to bring the topic up, the fear of being rejected by the other one far too big. It was a high risk to take, considering you both enjoyed each other’s company. 

Those habits also were the main reason the blonde boy was currently laying in your bed with one arm crossed behind his head and his other snaking behind your neck with his hand anchored at your shoulder to keep your body comfortably nestled against his. His fingers were fidgeting with the fabric of the oversized t-shirt you wore. His t-shirt. 

It was one of the evenings he complained about his older brother Aegon, listing all the things Aemond deemed were going wrong in Aegon’s life, whilst you drew lazy patterns on his naked torso, your index finger carefully following the sharp outlines of his abs. “Are you even listening?“ The baritone of his voice cut in, catching your attention. “I–yeah… sure,“ you stressed, tilting your head upwards to look at him with a concerned frown on your forehead.  

You were flashing him your biggest puppy dog eyes as an attempt to convince him, but Aemond did not seem to buy your lies. “What is it?“ With the way he sighed ever so slightly before asking the question, you were sure he was disappointed he had spent the past 15 minutes of his life telling you stuff you didn’t even care about. And considering how quiet he was the first days and nights you had spent alongside each other, you couldn’t even be mad at him. He trusted you–coming out of his tough shell.

“It’s just…,“ you shifted next to him in order to sit up and be able to perfectly meet his eye. Your thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of your nose, and with a desperate sigh leaving your lips, it was sure the next words weren’t leaving your mouth too easily, “…I met Jace at the frat party yesterday.“ 

The clenching of Aemond’s jaw at the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend was perfectly visible, and a reaction you knew was coming. It always did whenever you mentioned him, even though you had only talked about him briefly before and only once your situationship with Aemond became a bit more serious, teetering on the edge of turning into a relationship. 

Despite your sitting position, Aemond kept his hand on your shoulder, but it was short of being gentle and soft with his fingers slightly digging into your flesh–another indicator that he was all but pleased about the mention of your ex. You weren’t even sure why he acted that way whenever the topic came up, but you always blamed it on Aemond not wanting to talk about things that were threatening to deepen your relationship. Juxtaposing his urge to talk about his family issues, though.

“And what did he want?“ He asked, stern eye fixed with yours. 

Aemond was intense. In everything he did. And as of right now, it was the intensity of his gaze that had your composure crumbling, resulting in you fidgeting with your fingers in order to pull your thoughts away from him. You didn’t notice your head bowing forwards in what one could capture as submission, too eager to please and succumb to his happiness.

“Oh, y–you know…,” you stammered, knowing that everything you said brought you even deeper down the rabbit hole.” … he just asked if we could be friends again.“ And those words alone had him snorting out, a sound you rarely heard from Aemond, and with him raising his eyebrows, you knew he expected you to keep talking–to enlighten him. And you did just that, trying to mend his anger. 

“I told him I wasn’t sure and that I had to think about it… but he apologized and said he was sorry for how things ended between us.“ This time it was Aemond pinching the bridge of his nose, followed by a loud sighing. Much to your own surprise, his reaction offended you, because he was in no position to judge you for the way you led your life. 

“What’s this about? Why are you pissed now?“ You hissed, crossing your arms in frustration. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re too naive if you think he just wants to be your friend,“ he said, rubbing the palm of his hand over his face. The calmness in his voice was surprising but eerily calming, yet you knew when not to trust it, despite it helping to slow down your irritated heartbeat. 

Of course, he was right, and deep down you knew it, but Jace still had you in a chokehold, even if you did not like to admit it. It wasn’t because of how well your relationship with him went, because it just didn’t. It was messy and short-lived with him treating you like an option, and in the six months you’d dated, he managed to do enough bullshit to fuck with your mind and permanently scar your soul. 

That was the reason you kind of got involved with Aemond so quickly after the break-up. During your first hookups, you thought there were many similarities between him and Jace, and that somehow did the trick and lured you in. But over time, you came to the realization that Aemond was far from being a monster like the brunette, especially once he chose to let his guard down around you and show you the soft and gentle man that laid beneath the tough shell.

And that certainly convinced you to stay, that side of him granting you a whole lot of comfort and stability, something you had desperately craved.

Your mouth opened and closed, visibly fighting for anything to say–but then it dawned you. 

“Aemond Targaryen, are you fucking jealous of my ex?“ You asked with raised eyebrows, biting the insides of your cheeks to stop the corners of your lips from quirking into a wide grin before continuing, “if that’s meant to make me feel better about myself, it’s definitely not working, you imbecile.“ A swift and gentle blow to his right shoulder had him scoffing, raising both his hands in defense and shifting to prop himself up against the headboard of your large bed. 

“Come on, Y/N, don’t spin it around like I am the bad guy right now,“ he warned, though amusement was laced within his voice, “it’s just the truth. You never had anything good to say about that asshole. And where was he the past few months, mh? He just crawls out of his fucking hole and expects you to forgive him,” he certainly had a point. “If you’re doing that, you’re way dumber than I’ve expected you to be.“ That was harsh, and by the way he immediately reached for your wrist to pull you onto his lap with your head resting against his chest and his muscular arms wrapped around you, large hands splaying out over the entirety of your waist, you were sure he knew the effects of his words.

“Listen,“ his raspy voice rang out, and with your ear being pressed to his chest, you could hear the words rumbling within the depths of it. “If you fall for that fucking asshole again, I will not be there to comfort you, when he does the same shit he did before.“ 

You tried to wiggle your way out of Aemond's strong embrace to sit back up–oblivious to the position you already were in–but to no avail. His arms kept you locked in place and you actually did not really bother. 

“Why do you even care, Aemond? It’s not like we’re doing more than hooking up to fuck. You aren’t even supposed to stay so much longer afterwards,“ you huffed, words slightly muffled with your cheek against his chest. What you couldn’t see in your position was the wide smirk that was plastered across his chiseled features, almost a bit cocky and devious. 

“Well, do you want me to leave, baby?“ The pet name was solely meant to tease you, obvious in the way he emphasized it with a squeeze of your flesh.

You huffed in annoyance at his question, and in an instant, Aemond had you both flipped over, so he was towering above you with your legs still wrapped around his waist and your hair splayed out over the pillow beneath your head. 

“God, I fucking hate you, Aem,“ you groaned in despair. He knew just how difficult it was for you to resist his charm. And you enjoyed his company, so why would you want him to leave? Deep down you wanted him to stay even longer, perhaps even crashing at your place. Breakfast together didn’t sound too bad after all. 

His fingertips danced along the outsides of your exposed thighs, the hem of the shirt rucked up around your waist. And in that moment, you thanked the Seven you had been too lazy to put your panties back on after your last round of fucking, leaving you only in his oversized shirt and him in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs, which already were visibly strained in the front, the outline of his hard member visible. He clearly was enjoying the teasing. 

“You have a weird way of showing that, Y/N,“ the blonde teased, and his lips found your neck, nippling on the skin and eliciting a groan to fall past your lips–undetermined if it was out of annoyance because of his cockiness or sheer impatience. 

Tilting your head to the side, you granted him more access to one of your most sensitive spots in the curve where your shoulder and neck met, moaning as he started to suck and nibble on it. 

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you,“ you taunted him, a high pitched moan leaving your lips as his teeth harshly dug into your flesh. You were not thinking about the consequences of his jealousy, and as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs to silence you, you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking your pussy against his still clothed cock. 

Now it was him moaning, sounding as delicious as ever. 

Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, hooking beneath to pull on it, only to let it snap back against his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath and thrusted his length against your core. 

“Such a fucking tease,” his voice had dropped an octave, thick with arousal and sending a shiver straight down to the soles of your feet as it fanned over your neck. You desperately tried to push his underwear down and free his hard cock, so you could grab it and stroke it, but Aemond stopped your hand from trailing south. “And as impatient as always.” You couldn’t see his face, but the smug grin on his lips was perfectly audible. 

It was meant to make you unsure and shy, but you weren’t afraid to admit your attraction towards him, “oh, you know that’s the effect you have on me.“ That seemed to please him, judging by the content ‘mh’ that rumbled in the depth of his chest. 

One of his hands clasped around your throat, applying just a bit of pressure, before his lips were on yours in a searing kiss. His tongue was prying your lips apart, slipping past them to deepen the kiss even more, and drink down every whimper you made whenever he rutted his hips against yours, teasing your sensitive cunt. 

With yourself still being a bit overstimulated from all the times he had taken you before, you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, his large hand landing on your thigh determined to keep you neatly locked in place and right where he wanted you. 

You both pulled back to catch your breaths, and Aemond was quick to shimmy out of his boxers. You were right. He was rock hard, his heavy cock standing to full attention, bobbing with each movement, and the protruding vein running along the underside of it as prominent as ever. Your mouth watered at the thought of tracing it with your tongue like you always did when sucking him off, his heavy breathing and raspy groans echoing in the back of your head. 

In an instant, Aemond was back between your parted legs, connecting your lips once again. His cock was captured between your bodies with his balls pressed to your cunt, covering them in your arousal. Every time he shifted his hips, he dragged the base of his cock along your clit, granting you bolts of pleasure that still weren’t enough for you. 

As he took in a deep breath, he rested his forehead against yours, but your whiney voice had him withdrawing to get a better look of you. “Aem,“ you begged, your eyes appearing glassy in the dim light of your room, “I need you… please.“ It sounded far more desperate than intended, but he got the point. 

His usually lilac eye was dark blown with lust, the beautiful color reduced to nothing else than a thin ring, and raked over your body. Despite wearing his shirt, you felt completely exposed to him. The intensity of his gaze always did that to you. 

Aemond sat back on his haunches and grabbed his shaft, dragging it through your folds to gather some of your arousal and use it as lubricant, fisting himself despite already being rock hard. “You’re soaked, Y/N,” he remarked, and even though he kept his head bowed downward to watch the movements of his own hand and a few strands of blonde hair covered his features, you could see the ghost of a smirk dancing along his lips. “All this for me, huh? So eager to be fucked by me again. You’re insatiable,” this elicited a whine from you, thighs and stomach clenching as you couldn’t wait any longer.

He aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance and practically forced himself into you. You should have been used to his girth by now, and more to the painful stretch that followed along with him sliding in, but you weren’t. 

You both moaned in unison with your walls clenching tightly around him–engulfing him–until he completely bottomed out, his balls pressing flush against your soppy cunt. “Seems like me being jealous is quite the great motivator for you as well, mh?“ his voice was strained, indicating how much he fought to restrain himself from recklessly pounding into you–at least for a few seconds to give you some time to adjust to his size. 

You were filled to the brim with his thick cock, the sensation leaving you little space to form any coherent thoughts, hence your lack of reply. The blonde did not seem to care. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t even moved and you’re already drunk from my cock? A bit pathetic, don’t you think?“ 

“C-Can you move, now?“ You half begged and half demanded, the crimson covering your cheeks had Aemond chuckling out. 

But he complied immediately, thrusting his hips in and out of you at a rather languid pace. Each movement he made had his muscles flexing, a sheen of sweat covering his pale skin and highlighting them even more. 

Your head tipped back into the pillows whenever the tip of his cock brushed your sweet spot, the familiar sensation of seeing stars pushing you into a kind of overdrive. “Just–just like that,“ you hiccuped between particularly harsh thrusts of him, spurring him on even more. 

Aemond’s thrusts grew quicker and sharper with each passing second, coaxing little ‘uh’s and ‘oh’s’ out of you, until he was all but pounding into you, the headboard of your bed repeatedly bumping against the wall of your bedroom in sync with his movements.

At some point, the sounds of skin slapping on skin and your moans and whines were the only sounds bouncing off the walls, turning the whole scene even more lewd than it already was. 

When Aemond grabbed you to flip you onto your belly, you squealed in surprise but were shushed by him easing his cock back into you right away, resuming the merciless pace he had set up before. 

“You, fuck, take me so fucking well,“ his raspy voice cooed, and by the way he shifted behind you, you knew he was watching the way his cock repeatedly disappeared into your tight cunt. The praise went straight to your head, having you biting your bottom lip in a sheepish manner, whimpering a ‘thank you.’ It was the first time he praised you, and the tingling in the pit of your belly was enough confirmation for you to know you liked it. 

His next movements caught you by surprise, being something he had never done before. 

His large hand entangled into the tresses of your hair, wrapping it around its palm, and he used the grip to roughly pull you onto your knees with your back pressed flush against his sweaty chest. With one arm around your waist and his other coming from your hair to clasp around your throat to apply a good bit of pressure to it, he supported your small frame and kept you in place, keeping you steady so he was able to snap his hips into yours. 

The new angle was immaculate, allowing him to pistone even deeper into you, impaling you on his cock as you were sure it was threatening to come out of your throat at any given moment. You tipped your head back against his shoulder, and Aemond turned his own to press his lips to your cheek in a sloppy kiss.

He was doing all the work, but you couldn’t care less. It felt amazing. Your whole body was on fire, sending you into a frenzy. It was almost too much for you to remember the rules you both had set up at the start of your situationship, one of said rules being you asking for his permission to come. “’M close, Aem,“ you whined, turning your head for him to kiss your lips instead, “can I–can I come?“ You felt your orgasm approaching you rather quickly, almost too quick for your liking, but lucky for you, Aemond was just as quick to reply.

“Yes, go on, Y/N, cum for me,“ he all but commanded you, “soak my fucking cock.“ And with that, the coil in your belly tightened and snapped, your walls convulsing around him. 

Your release seemed to trigger his own, because shortly after, Aemond was spending himself inside of your quivering walls, painting them from the inside. His thrusts did not falter once, fucking his load so deep inside of you, you’d have been sure he got you pregnant if it wasn’t for you being on birth control. 

Only once both your aftershocks subsided, leaving you a panting mess, Aemond let go of you to let you settle in the cushions belly first, resulting in him pulling out of you. It was the cold air hitting his flaccid cock for him, and the sudden feeling of emptiness for you, but you both winced almost simultaneously, grimacing at the loss. 

Aemond hesitated to move for a few seconds, too mesmerized watching how torrents of his seed slowly seeped out of your assaulted core, dribbling over your overstimulated clit down onto the sheets. He groaned, and if it wasn’t for him being utterly fucked out, he would’ve turned hard straight away again.  

As he eventually fell down into the vacant spot next to you, his hand found your ass right away, roughly groping the flesh, whilst he leant over you to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fucking amazing.“

Your reply was muffled by the pillows, because obviously you needed a few seconds to regain your composure and come back to your senses. But his following question worked wonders to speed up the process, causing you to roll on your side and face him. 

“Will you go on a date with me?“

The heat in your body returned, but it was more bearable than before–mostly spreading to your cheeks and neck–despite his eye carefully watching your every move, gauging your reaction.  

“Only if you stay the night.“

[loveharlow]

COMPANY POLICY

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.7k] Caught red handed stealing from Cameron Development, Rafe Cameron's assistant finds herself in a sticky situation...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, power play, blackmail, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected rough sex, allusions to pregnancy, cheating (?)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU HELD YOUR ARMS CLOSE TO YOU AS YOU WALKED THE PATH UP TO THE COMPANY BUILDING — Cameron Development. It was midnight on the dot and the night air was chilly. Normally, you’d be in bed by this time, tired and exhausted after running errands for Rafe Cameron all day long with little to sometimes no break. Being his assistant wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream job, but it kept your lights on.

For some reason, the man had called you into the office, saying there was an issue that was urgent and had to be handled immediately. He had an edge to his voice, one that should've been your first warning to not walk into that building.

As you skipped up the steps to the building, still hugging yourself, you pushed the door open and followed the only light that was on down the hall. His office door was cracked and you could hear him mumbling to himself. Reaching the semi-open door, you pushed it open, the wood creaking as you did so.

“Mr. Cameron?” You called quietly, spotting his tall frame hovering over his desk — palms planted firmly on the wood and hair ruffled as his eyes ran wild over the small pile of papers on the desk. Your voice broke him out of his muttering daze as his eyes slowly rose to meet yours. His movements were slow and calm, his wild eyes meeting yours.

His movements were slow and calm, until they weren’t. Within seconds, he’d crumpled up the papers in his hands and rounded his deck to tower in front of you and grab your upper arm, bringing you impossibly closer. You could see him a lot more clearly now — he was visibly strung out and angry. 

You gasped at the rough contact, immediately trying to tug your arm away which only prompted the irate man to tug you closer. 

“What’re you-”

“How much?” He huffed out, infuriated. His jaw was clenched tightly.

You were sure you looked lost and confused, more scared than anything. Rafe had a knack for treating his employees like shit and you were no exception to his rage now, it seemed. But you’d never been at the receiving end of his abuse until this moment. It was frightening, to put it mildly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“How much fucking money did you steal from me?” He gritted through his teeth. You stuttered to find the right words and he took that as a sign to continue berating you. He released his grip on you to uncrumple to documents he was holding, using one hand to push you against the wall behind you as the other practically shoved the printed matter in your face. “Five-hundred and twenty-six thousand...” He started, voice rising with each word. “Five-hundred and twenty-six THOUSAND dollars. That’s how much money has been withdrawn from my company and deposited into shell companies — companies that do not fucking exist!”

You looked away from him this time. You honestly didn’t think he’d find out. Or at least find out that it was you. Five-hundred thousand was pocket change compared to what he was bringing in yearly and Rafe was careless, so you didn't think he'd notice and if he did, you assumed you'd be able to lie on the spot. Clearly, you'd misjudged both him and yourself.

He’d put you in charge of the books when it became too much paperwork for him one day and you just happened to realize that your paycheck could’ve been much higher than what it was but you knew he’d never give you a raise. You’d worked with him for almost 2 years and had never even seen the chance of a promotion. Who was Rafe Cameron to acknowledge his employees or their efforts?

It wasn't like you'd taken it all at once. It was over the last couple months that you'd misplaced the funds into shell companies and collected it at later dates for your own personal gain.

“Suddenly she’s quiet.” He taunted, throwing the papers to the floor. “Look at me,” He demanded, but you refused. He took that as a sign to grab, more like yank, your chin in his direction. “Where’s my money?”

“It’s gone, most of its gone…” You muttered with tearful eyes, speech slurred due to how he had your cheeks pressed together. You weren't lying. You'd spoiled yourself with the money. Shopping, grocery runs, furniture...

“I trusted you. You think I’d let any of those lousy, dumbasses touch my assets? No. But clearly…clearly I made a lapse in judgment with you.” He reprimanded. “You’re a damn thief.” He spat as he let go of your face, so harshly it prompted some of your hair to obstruct your field of vision.

Your heart was racing like crazy. Your hands had been clawing at the wall he had you pinned to, eyes following his pacing frame. “I can pay it back. I’ll pay it all back-”

“Oh, I know you will.”  He scoffed darkly. “But clearly, your word can’t be taken for it so, I’m going to need… collateral.” Rafe sounded much less angry now. But his tone was still clouded with an air of darkness that made the hairs of the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly, he was in front of you again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear — a much softer touch compared to the previous ones.

“Take your shirt off.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at his demand.

Surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Mr. Cameron-” You tried.

“Sir.” He corrected.

“...Sir,” You repeated, taking the hint. “I have a husband. Not to mention, you’re my boss. I’m sure there’s another way-”

“There might be...” He cut you off, the knuckle of his index finger trailing down the length of your neck as he licked his lips before speaking again. “Unfortunately for you, I want to do it my way.” He rasped. “So, take your shirt off.”

This was wrong. On so many levels was this wrong. He was your boss — your sick, deranged boss. You may be a thief but this was ludicrous. Was the terror in your eyes not enough assurance for him?

You gulped as you looked into his eyes, letting a few beats pass before moving your shaking hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head and hesitating to let it drop to the hardwood floors of his office. 

Rafe eyed the valley of your breasts that was revealed by your bra, a small smirk forming on his features at the sight. When one of his hands came up to cup one of them through the material, you couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the touch — it was foreign and it felt so… dirty. You wanted to just say fuck it and dash out of his office — shirtless and all. But you knew that would only cause more trouble — he’d ruin your credibility and career, destroy your marriage, and God knows what else.

So when the man used the hand that had been trailing your neck to untie your sweatpants, you stood as still as a statue and let him. The loose apparel falling easily to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you half naked in front of your superior.

“I never took you for the criminal type, y’know…” He whispered into your ear. “I always thought you were so obedient. The things I thought about doing to you whenever you nod when I give you an order, watching you rush around the office in your skirts just to get whatever I need done finished…I never thought watching you do whatever I say would be so fun.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but feel trapped at this moment.

Just how long had Rafe been pining over you? You suddenly wondered if this was really collateral or just a way of getting something he’d always wanted.

Was it both?

The thought ran around in your mind as he roamed the length of your body — calloused hands outlining the curve of your ass, palm trailing over your clothed core. You didn’t even fully register when his thick fingers pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, one digit gathering the wetness that had gathered before being quickly pushed inside. You whimpered lowly at the intrusion, instinctively closing your legs but Rafe wouldn’t allow it, using his knee to hold your legs apart.

His lone finger poked and prodded at your g-spot, forcing light moans out of you that you tried your best to keep low. You hated the way your body responded to his touch — the faint squelching sound you could hear as he pumped his finger in and out of you. A lone tear rolled down your cheek, small whimpers escaping your lips before he harshly pulled his finger out of you and took a few steps back, allowing you to close your legs.

But the racing and thumping of your heart within your rib-cage didn’t stop there, tearful eyes watching as Rafe’s hands moved to his belt. The metal clanking against itself as he undid the object and abandoned it to the floor. 

In one swift motion, his entire demeanor changed as he grabbed the hair on your head that he could reach, practically ripping you off of the wall that you were clinging to. You yelped as the man did so, using your tresses as a makeshift leash, pulling your body towards his desk as you struggled not to trip over your pants that were still wound around your ankles. Using his deadly grip, he shoved your face into the wooden surface, swiping papers and office supplies out of his way.

You hissed the contact, a small ache blooming on your cheek as your own hands were planted on the wood as well in awkward position due to how he had you pinned down.

The hand in your hair never left your body as it trailed down to pin you against the slab by the back of your neck instead. Your body jerked as he used his free hand to force your panties down your legs, leaving the material wound around the middle of your thighs.

You don’t even know when he found the time to pull down his own pants during his manhandling, only starting to internally panic, realizing the weight of what was happening when you felt the warmth of his tip rub against your sex. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, causing yourself more pain the more you moved.

You pleaded with him through labored sobs as your fingers clawed at his work space, leaving faint white marks in your wake. You didn’t even know what you were saying — a string of useless pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your fighting only came to an abrupt stop when you felt his dick push past your entrance, biting down on your lip as a small pinching feeling radiated from in between your legs at the unwelcome intrusion. You felt every ridge and vein as he took his time settling within you. The man behind you let out a gruff groan while the hand he’d used to guide himself inside of you moved to capture your waist, pulling you further onto him.

When he pulled his hips back only to slam back into you, you couldn’t contain the watery scream you let out. It felt like he’d punched you in the throat, fucking into you as if you weren’t a living thing. You could feel each and every time the tip of his cock would hit your cervix, the desk beneath you bruising your abdomen with each forward thrust that slammed you against the wooden fixture.

"Please! I can't-"

"Shut up." He immediately cut off your protests, voice curt and nasty. "I don't wanna hear you speak."

Nothing about his movements were pleasurable. His grip on your waist had grown tighter, so tight that his short nails were digging into your skin, feeling like miniature knives against your side. The hand on your neck followed, squeezing the nape of it until you were gasping for air between each cry and shriek.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the feeling of his pelvis meeting the curvature of your ass with each thrust made your chest feel tight. You hated the way you could feel yourself clenching around him, a familiar sensation building in your lower half. 

Before you could even attempt to stop yourself, your hands were curling into tight fists as you came around him with a pitiful cry. But Rafe wasn’t done just yet, and you laid under him as he continued pounding into you at a borderline animalistic pace. The desk screeching against the floorboards after a particularly, brutal jolt. You were quickly becoming sensitive, the friction causing your clit to ache as a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body.

It was only a few moments before he rammed into you for the final time, his hips stilling as they pressed against your backside, the feeling of him spilling into you almost making you sick. He didn’t bother being quiet as he held you flush against him, making sure to empty himself completely with a few soft pumps into you afterwards, pulling out with not an ounce of care, eliciting a wince from you as he did so.

He roughly released both holds he’d had on you, not saying a word.

You could hear the rustling of fabric and his heavy breaths behind you as you gathered yourself mentally. You didn’t move, not an inch until you heard his voice again.

“Get up.” You sniffed. Not wanting to irritate the man any further, you used your arms to push yourself up to stand straight on shaky legs. You didn’t turn around as you carefully bent over and pulled your pants up, trying you hardest to ignore what you felt running down the inside of your thighs or the way the fabric of your underwear felt against your swollen clit.

All hopes of not having to look at the man who’d violated you were shattered as he rounded his desk to sit in front of you, planting himself in the chair as he opened the laptop that he was lucky hadn’t been thrown from the desk in the harsh turn of events.

You stood in front of him with your head down. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears from your face, fix your hair, or check for bruises that you were sure you had and would have to find some way to cover up. You just watched liked a punished child as he opened the device in front of him, typing and hyper focused on the screen. You wondered how he could be so unphased.

He was like that for a few passing moments until he’d seemingly gotten what he needed, pulling the USB drive from the side of the machine that you'd just noticed, leaning back in his chair as he fiddled with the small stick. His face was flushed red and his hair was all over the place.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, out of breath but still managing to sound smug. You had an idea. But you hoped you were wrong. So, begrudgingly, you shook your head side to side. “It's our movie. I know it’s not the best angle because, well...” He motioned towards a corner of his office, prompting you to shift your sights in his line of sight, spotting a camera mounted in the corner, so small it was just barely visible but you knew from the placement it probably had a view of the entire space. Your heart dropped, slowly turning back to your boss to find him eyeing you with such a predatory gaze that it made you shudder.

“Don’t look so scared. No one else will see it, so long as you get my shit back.” He spat. “But I gotta admit,” He started, getting up from behind his desk and coming to stand next to you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Fucking you was much better than I ever imagined.”

His words had you choking back on your own saliva, swallowing harshly and refusing to look at him as you stared straight ahead with a disgusted snarl on your face. One of his hands swiped lightly across your torso as he left your personal space, opting to sit half-way perched on his desk. Fiddling and examining the memory stick like a prized possession before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and an unsettling grin on his features before speaking.

“You can see yourself out.”

That was all you needed to hear before your feet were rushing you away from him, barely stopping to snatch your shirt up off of the floor before making a bee-line out of his office. You struggled to put your shirt on as you practically sprinted through the doors of the building so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if you had it on backwards, hot skin immediately bitten by the night air.

Your breathing never calmed as you rushed to your car, struggling to unlock the door, throwing yourself into the vehicle when you finally managed to. You sat there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the street and breathing like a mad woman before you lost all control — punching and slamming on your steering wheel, a long string of curses leaving your lips before you were bursting into tears, sleeve-covered hands coming up to cup your face as you cried into them. 

You hated yourself and you hated Rafe. You had nowhere to go from here. Rafe's words made it clear that you wouldn't be quitting any time soon and what the hell were you going to do about your husband? Rafe had a full length tape of you, bent over his desk as he did what he pleased and no matter what you knew happened in that office, Rafe had Kildare in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take a genius to know that Rafe Cameron would bend that video to his very will. This whole thing made you look bad, a thief and a cheater.

Your hysterics didn’t last long when you realized that even though you were in your car, that man was still just feet away. You’d still have to see him the very next day and every day after that, but right now you just wanted to go home and you didn’t even know if you really wanted to do that — to climb into bed with your husband who had no idea what had just happened, knowing not only that your future was tainted but technically, so was his. 

You didn’t waste any time in starting your car, nearly whipping into the curb at the speed at which you pulled off. Watching streetlights and stores pass by.

It wasn’t until you passed the pharmacy, bright neon red sign lit up in the dark, that you felt your stomach drop.

You’d been off birth control for months now, wanting to try for a baby with your husband.

And in the middle of the night, you found yourself praying that a loss of dignity and aching legs were the only things Rafe Cameron just sent you home with.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[fumifooms]

Kabuholm

For me the main appeal of Kabru x Holm is that Holm is 1) dependable and 2) casual.

For 1, we see it throughout the manga and whatnot, with his healer role but also with his composure, so relaxed it’s in turn soothing to hang around him. He’s a bit like a turtle, gentle and takes it at a relaxed pace, slows down your frenzied pace, retreats into his shell if too much is happening hehe… The Mick & Kuro bath comic is a favorite of mine on that front! In that one he complains and shouts, but he still lets Mick crash, he still helps, he still makes them tea and makes sure they have a trashbin and makeshift beds and whatnot lmao, and it’s late too… Reliable dependable Holm.

But also he freezes up when too much is happening <3 Gotta protect him a bit teehee, Kabru coming to his rescue and it’s his chance to show off. Except he doesn’t need to show off, it’s not strategical or needed, neither for his plan or to win Holm over as an ally, but he still will <3 Because he wants to and that on its own, wanting to, feels novel to Kabru… Dungeons is the place where he feels like he can show off the most to Holm because he seems so unaffected in general by his charms, and protecting him is one of the things Kabru knows he can do, and the showing off is because…

… of 2! He has that huge casual vibe to him. Holm still has expectations of Kabru as a leader yes, but he won’t voice them unless prompted and on his face you’ll find the same unbothered calm smile as always. Being around him feels like having no pressure. It feels like being trusted entirely even if your actions seem shady at first, because it’s not a vibe or a persona he trusts in you but it’s you, however you are like in the moment.

Kabru spends time with Holm, around this other repressed guy that has his shit put together (even if Kabru does know about Holm’s flaws, and he feels a special kind of way about that… Collecting that info like pokemon cards and finding that he wished he knew even more <3 so so intrigued and "It’s probably just curiosity. If anything I’m just infatuated" when he realizes it feels a twinge different than with everyone else), and he finds that he feels like he can unwind and show himself a bit. Show some flaws too. Holm being so unconditionally casual AND quietly supportive, even if he doesn’t say anything, would be soo important to Kabru in a kabuholm timeline… A telepathic sort of thing would form where Kabru learns how to read his face, and even if it’s always the same droopy eyed smile he starts understanding how he feels, what he’s thinking, what it means when he nods at him in silence and aughh…

Holm DOESN’T push his emotions onto Kabru!!! Holm keeps that shit to himself!!! Kabru doesn’t have to manage Holm’s emotional needs & states for him, when that’s what he usually has to do for everyone!!! Charm them and keep them happy and if this or that happens then you need to anticipate their needs with this and blahblahblah. Holm is low maintenance, he doesn’t take much emotional energy to deal with, he has his own deal figured out!

Kabru in canon knew about the way Holm freezes up in surprising intense situations, a rare time he’s had to cover for him in any way and he was so quick about it, and again, battlefield with humans both physical and mind games is his specialty so if it’s just protecting him from enemies he’s the man for the job <3 Holm’s the healer to his warrior after all, with an impressive dose of defense and offense thrown into the mix too. I will say also, that scene where Holm hesitates when Marcille says not to hurt Faligon… Kabru stepping in and giving Holm the decisiveness he needed to not falter.

With all that said about Holm’s feelings being something he doesn’t make Kabru’s problem to deal with, in Kabru getting infatuated it should be something that eventually gets him like "I wish he’d rely on me a bit more…" Kabru should massage the stress out of him <3 Always keeping himself composed and being dependable and stuff wears down on Holm (and Kabru)… I do think Holm represses to some degree so 1) the pent up stress he hasn’t been letting out 2) "bro, let’s learn to show our real emotions more together… Bro…"

I’m not sureee how the Holm side plays out in my mind yet but either he falls much later than Kabru or he’s just really good at hiding and being casual about his crush which tbf would be thematic lol. But idk if he’d be that good as that… Thinking. Because with the comic about his sister or even the one about Dia’s fiance or Mick crashing at his place, Holm does like, show a lot of emotion and distaste, some anger, he doesn’t repress that much/everything. He has a sense of duty that makes him want to help where he can, he does have desires like say, Kabru not getting it on with his sister, but also he’s not gonna force himself to be a solemn saint always either… Kabru would also find that fun methinks, figuring out the exact duality in Holm, where he cracks and why. Oh nooo I fell in love with my enrichment and coworker. Them just hanging ouuuut at a tavernnn after everyone else leeeeft… Haven’t done a full Holm analysis yet but I’ve started giving him more thoughts bc of kabuholm and diaholm. Because his religion is important to him and it bars him from meat for example, it’s reasonable to think he sticks to an upstanding moral code with awareness and purpose. Despite having been to jail he’s never shown scorn or shittalked elves or alluded to it, either he doesn’t resent easily or he keeps that part of his past on the down-low for whichever reason. His maturity is actually something that’s often pointed to about him, he’s only the equivalent of like 30, but being close in age (as in they’re both older bc they’re long lived races) is cited as the reason for why he gets along with Dia the most in the party for example. He can be lively, but when he is it’s usually because something’s happening that he doesn’t like lol, also usually off the job, wether it be because of being in a different mind state, doing different things in different situations, or because Kui make so him more expressive in Daydream Hour extras haha.

So kabuholm to me is the casual quiet feel-good get-to-know-each-other slow burn ever. They prob never confess if we’re being honest but even just hanging out around each other fills up their battery somehow, like being at a sauna and feeling refreshed.

So yes sort of, the want to show off someone hard to wow and impress someone who’s very well put together and unfazed, in duality with how that person makes you feel like you shouldn’t or don’t have to try so hard, that you can just catch a break and take it easy for a moment, socially.

Holm’s observant and composed. I like that he’s able to keep up with Kabru and engage with his points. I do always like when a partner has the capacity to be critical or skeptical, reign in a bit or balance, but Holm is easily swayed with his trust in Kabru, and easily reasoned with to a satisfied degree. He’s low maintenance but still engaging.

Kabru is not only the main character of the group but also his main character point is being good at reading and remembering people: It’s no surprise that the majority of what we learn about Holm is done through him one way or another, but I still like that he’s got Holm’s quirks down pat, like the freezing up thing. Allow me to find that cute idk. And then the reverse of that too below… Underrated how all of his party knows about how he sucks at taking care of himself and his space.

I tried compiling all of their moments but I’m sure I missed some, especially Daydream Hours ones. So yeah my kabuholm manifesto. I’m casual about them but they creeped up on me randomly and have refused to leave my heart. Bromance idk idk

[colinarcartperson]

My Ma gave me the prompt of “Egg Shell” and Thais is clown 1 of 2 that came out heheh