#saw the reverse truck

[artcallednaturalviews]

Even the Pink Salt Rock Looks like Pork Corn don’t need me kneading them I hollowed filled They be Can’t ask Rock Where’s that Vote!? Even the pink salt rocks Demo-Blue In acid wash 4 Democracy From past and beyond Slayer Metallica New words of Jim Morrison Smells like beef Where’s the flour old meats Worcestershire Add to the meats Ketchup followed a suit suitable Just Damn Vote Demo-Blue Ohh let it be 4 Democracy Even the Pink Salt Rocks Look’s the part Drill them hold ‘em over to add Another album Nah stop that When blue is Overpowering orange Wordsbymm||mmybsdroW Demo-Blue MMybsdrow||wordsbyMM 4 Democracy Chiseled Even the Pink Salt Rock Blue over Orange mmmm, Better Even the Pink Salt Rock Bob mmmm words Mmmm bob the word Carved Even the Pink Salt Rocks PS Recreations I encapsulate A shutdown Chittering chattering Commingling Speak of burning a Flag again! Even the Pink Salt Rocks & Orange My mad anger My anchor dip j, J it I jig ahh ‘emm JDV pool populous with M Who grants in American Rock N Rolls After Memphis Even the Pink Soft Rock Even !! Part III BACK TO THE FURURE All of U S Thad’would be wrong to all In U.S. For’e score and! Even the pink salt rocks

[fishareglorious]

Important PSA from Miss Tooth Fairy here.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night

bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short

summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.

a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.

you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.

the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.

this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.

when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.

once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.

“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”

you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”

your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.

he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.

he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”

you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”

he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”

“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.

he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”

you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.

you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.

he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”

[bunnyreaper]

captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation. 

soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it.  always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!

the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you. 

he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.

taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.

"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.

"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush. 

he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain. 

"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door. 

it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.

your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game. 

was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly. 

"i'm--" 

your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't. 

the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field. 

"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you. 

the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed. 

"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'" 

he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll." 

[buggieboyofficial]

I made a reverse au for @void-dude 's Shapes and Pines au!

Their au makes me so happy! :))) I thought it would be interesting to see them reversed. (I wrote a LOT on here so I'm going to transcribe it all at the end of this)

Honestly this was supposed to be a joke and then I kept drawing and thinking about them. This admittedly got out of hand.

To make up for it, have some Tad Strange and Bill!

Tad: Ow.

Bill: Look, Isn't it beautiful?

Tad: Bill, I shouldn't be seeing anything but a doctor right now.

(Full transcription under the 'keep reading')

1969 Tad Strange is 15 years old. (He looks old for his age and uses this to his advantage) He lost his eye in a firework accident when he was 12 and now, he has a fear of fire and a glass eye. Billium is 12 years old and is about to make a really bad mistake. His eye was missing at birth and can't get a glass eye without surgery. Their parents work together and Bills Parents asked Tad to babysit Billium when they are away to help with his bullies. They become friends. (Mini Comic 1) Billium- "You don't GET IT TAD!" Billium- "I was BORN a freak." Billium- "I can't pretend to be normal because I don't know HOW." Tad- "… Huh."

2012 Bill is a Biologist After his family home burned down, killing both Tad and Bill's families, Bill became interested (obsessed) with necromancy. He started with studying human biology, but his work hit a wall and he became desperate for more knowledge. He summoned Sixer for answers after searching for years trying to find a being that could help him. Who knew that the demon of knowledge could be so susceptible to flattery? It's probably because Sixer doesn't get summoned very often.

(Mini Comic 2)

Dr. Bill: Looking extra dexterous today Sixer~

Sixer: *AHEM* Thank you Dr. Bill, let's get back to work now.

Tad is a Car Salesmen He lives in his tow truck just in case he gets chased out of town for selling shitty cars at an increased price. He had lived alone for a long time before Bill tracked him down 4 months ago. Bill apologized and said some cryptic shit about fixing everything. Then he looked around at Tad's tow truck/home and left a paper with weird circles on it and an incantation. He said "Use this to get a better place, you'll need one soon" Then he left. Tad didn't summon Ley until 2 months ago when he almost got shot selling a fake Lamborghini to a gang leader. He was then chased out of town again.

1 Trillion years ago, Sixer and Ley were in the 2nd dimention.

Sixer created a safe(ish) portal to the 3rd dimension which he was able to do because he had one eye that saw in 3d and one that was in 2d.

Ley could see it out of the corner of his eye like Tad did, but doesn't like to look at the world beyond. He accidentally broke the portal Sixer made while trying to use it and now everyone is gone.

(Mini Comic 3)

Sixer: "Look Ley, a Shooting Star!"

Ley: "WTF is a star and why is it shooting at us?!"

[the-thing-withfeathers]

gunshots, gods, & getting fucked (b.e.)

warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT! gun usage, violence, bank robbery, mention of cops. fingering, oral, strap-on usage, pet names, praise.

your hands gripped the steering wheel tight, your knuckles were turning white. your eyes scanned the dark and empty road for any sign of flashing lights.

you were growing bored, but you had to stay focused.

the radio was playing the faintest of tunes, you mouthed the lyrics as you looked into the void, only being illuminated streetlamps.

and then there was an alarm.

your eyes flicked to the bank’s entrance as the car’s engine sprung to life. your eats started to hurt at how loud the alarm was.

you thought she was more careful than that.

you saw your raven-haired partner sprint out the doors, the duffel bag she was carrying looked like it was about to burst open.

she swung the passenger door open, practically leaping into it.

“drive!”

you didn’t waste a second before your foot slammed onto the gas. you drove off, your tires screeching as you took a hard right at the end of the street.

“what the fuck, bils?!” you asked her, frustrated. “you said you wouldn’t set it off!”

“yeah, look. sometimes things go wrong.” she scoffed, “anyways, i have the money. it’s up to you now, baby. get us outta here.”

you chuckled dryly. of course she managed to sweet talk you despite nearly butchering the whole operation.

“you look so fucking pretty behind the wheel.” billie grinned at you, she lowered the mask she was wearing and leaned over to press a kiss to your neck.

“enough, tiger. i need to focus.” you elbowed her softly, she laughed softly and leaned back in her seat. “save it for when we’re in the clear.”

it was like the universe was trying to be funny. just as you said that, you heard sirens getting closer to you.

“fuck.” you hissed, looking in the rearview mirror. you saw a cop car tailing you, you changed gears and the two of you jolted forwards as the car sped up.

billie leaned forward and popped the glovebox open, pulling out a pistol. she grabbed an ammo magazine from the middle compartment and loaded the gun. she pulled her mask back up and turned around to gauge what she was dealing with.

“hold on, we might not need it.” you warned her. billie tended to have, what they called, a trigger finger. she got a little too excited to sport the gun in her hand.

you saw her blow a raspberry as she slumped back in her chair. you found her cute like that.

you made a sharp left, turning into a busier road. you made risky swerves, cutting in between available spaces when you could. then you turned a random corner, spotting an alleyway.

you quickly parked in it, killing the engine. you signaled billie to be quiet, your eyes never leaving the rearview. you saw as the cop cars sped by quickly. you gave it a few seconds before turning the engine back on and reversing back onto the road.

you made sure to keep the car quiet as you made your way to the bridge that allowed you to get into the next city over.

three cop cars managed to spot you just as you entered the bridge, quickly speeding after you.

“jesus billie.” you groaned softly. “made yourself a bit of a threat there.”

“luckily, i have the best getaway driver ever.” she poked your shoulder.

“i can only do so much.”

you conquered any gap that you were allowed. but you saw in the distance that oncoming traffic was starting to slow down as more cars started to pile onto the lanes.

the three cars behind you managed to take over all the lanes, one on each. you couldn’t back out now. you started to sweat a little, worrying that you might not make it out fast enough.

and then you spotted it.

a huge semi-truck, it’s shadow was hiding the cars beside it.

you squinted slightly and managed to read its license plate.

BRT 365.

you almost called it a victory, but you weren’t out of the woods yet.

as you were about to make your move, one of the cop cars bumped into your rear. it sent you and billie forward a little.

you looked over to her to make sure she was okay, but she was only frustrated. you could tell she was getting close to scratching that itch, and you needed more time.

“hey bils.” you called after her, grabbing her attention. she turned to you and raised her eyebrows in anticipation.

“give ‘em hell.”

she licked the top row of her teeth, donning an almost sinister smile. she cocked the gun and rolled her window down. she elevated herself and stuck her head and arm out the window.

she pointed the gun directly at the cop car’s wheel.

“fuck you.” she said as she fired, hitting the tire dead on. you watched in the rearview mirror as the car veered off to the side and crashed into the bridge.

the driver of the car fumbled with the radio, most likely signaling that you were armed.

the other two cars were nowhere to be seen, hidden behind layers and layers of other cars. you saw your chance.

you lined the car up with the underbelly of the semitruck, spotting it’s mechanism that you & its driver built yourself.

“watch this.” you said to billie. you swerved into the underside of the truck, latching onto the mechanism.

the metal platform started to lift the car up into the truck, you turned the engine off to make it easier.

when you were completely inside and the bottom of the truck closed itself off, you exited the car.

“that was some mighty fine timing, charli!” you called out to the woman behind the wheel.

“thank me later, we’re nearly back at the safe house.” she said, her thick accent was reassuring.

you leaned against the car, your arms crossed over your chest as your girlfriend rounded the car, standing in front of you.

“look at you, pretty. proper criminal.” she said, her hands finding their way to your waist. she yanked you forward and connected your lips in a deep kiss. it was immediately heated, you knew successful missions like this turned her on like no tomorrow.

you giggled softly and put your hands on her shoulders. “nice shooting.” you pushed her backwards slightly, she groaned at the loss of affection.

you smiled to yourself, making your way to charli’s passenger seat. billie still set off the alarm, so you had to deprive her just a little bit.

—

you hopped out of the passenger seat once you reached the safehouse, smacking your hand on the side of the truck twice. you made your way back to the car as charli opened the back.

you drove out of the truck and parked the car in the garage.

“we’ll dump it tomorrow night, we just have to let the police cool down their search.” you said, shutting the car door behind you. billie took out the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder.

she reached for your hand as she walked towards the back door entrance to your safe house. you jogged a little to grab it, intertwining your fingers together.

“i’ll see you guys next week. night, night!” charli called after the two of you, mounting her motorbike and driving off. you waved after her and so did billie.

as you two made your way to your shared bedroom, billie howled in excitement. she tossed the bag on your bed and unzipped it, turning it over and emptying it right on the bed.

“fuck yeah, baby!!!!” she exclaimed, whooping and turning to hug you. she lifted you a little and spun you around. you laughed and whooped just the same.

she set you down and grabbed your face with both her hands, “my fucking princess, you and your cars are a fucking supernova.” she said, smashing your lips together in a fiery kiss.

you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. she set her hands on the back of your thighs and you jumped, wrapping your legs around her waist. she turned 90 degrees and set you down directly on the cash.

oh, this was interesting!

she nearly tore off your pants, not even bothering to take your other clothes off. she planted your feet on her shoulders as she knelt down in front of your already dripping cunt. you could head your heart pounding in your ears, this turned you on a little too much.

“fuck baby, does robbing a bank turn you on?” she chuckled, running a finger up and down your opening. “or was it the getaway?” she asked, tilting her head.

you nearly let out a whimper as you shook your head. “no…” you answered.

“no? what was it then?” her piercing eyes looked up at you from where she was.

“you shooting that gun… that was so fucking hot.” you confessed, your hips rolling on her finger. she let you continue that motion, you were the reason she got away. she had to reward you for that.

“oh really? you flatter me too much…” billie smirked, her gold teeth flashing in the light of your bedroom. her finger hit your clit, you hissed at the contact, your hips bucking upwards.

“billie, c’mon, please?” you begged her, you needed her to make you feel good.

“i suppose so, because you’ve been such a good girl. my fucking supernova.” she said, leaning down and diving into your pussy.

she pressed her tongue flat against your clit and shook her head quickly. you were leaking all over the cash, you knew it would ruin some of the bills. but you didn’t care, and neither did she.

you let out a sharp moan as she put two fingers in you. she was devouring you like she was a woman starved, lapping at your arousal like it was the only thing she could ever eat again.

your thighs tightened around her head, you could tell she was enjoying it. she loved being suffocated between your thighs.

her fingers pumped in and out of you quickly, she wanted to please you too. she curled her fingers inside of you, coaxing another moan out.

you felt a white-hot flush run through your body and settle in the pits of your stomach. it didn’t take long for you to give her a warning.

“billie— oh fuck, i’m gonna cum!” you cried out to her, your hands gripping the sheets and the bills that laid on top of them.

you thanked whatever otherworldly presence was looking out for you that she didn’t stop. she gave you silent permission with her eyes, those fucking eyes.

your back arched as you reached your climax, and she lapped everything up. she refused to leave anything behind.

when she was done, she walked off to the closet, and you knew exactly what she was after. she came out with a black silicone cock sitting perfectly strapped around her waist.

you felt yourself gush at her stance. you sat up, backing up into the bed and she climbed on it to hover above you.

the wads of cash followed the two of you, sinking into the mattress until it was under your back.

“you’re already so wet, don’t even need to use lube.” she said, mockingly. “does my cock make you this wet, princess?” she pouted, asking you.

you nodded quickly, your hands caressing her cheeks as she lined the tip of her cock with your hole. she turned her head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

as she slowly entered you, you let out a series of whines, trying to adjust to being stretched out.

“yeah, you can take it, baby. you can take it.” she said, pushing it further into you until the gap between your cunt and her waist was basically non-existent.

your eyes squeezed shut as you wriggled a little, allowing yourself a couple of seconds to get used to the size. you opened your eyes slowly to see billie’s empathetic ones, she was so sweet even in times like this.

even after all the crimes she’d committed, you had no doubt that she loved you more than the life she led.

“ready, baby?” she asked you as you met her eyes. you nodded in response because if you tried to talk, it would only come out as moans.

she thrusted into you, hard. pulling out almost all the way then bottoming out completely. you cried out in pain at first, but then it became pleasure just as quickly.

“fucking…” she mumbled, “good girl. fucking good girl, taking it so good for me.” she said through thrusts.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth hung open. her hand found its way up your shirt, squeezing one of your tits through your bra. your back arched into her hand.

“oh my god, you’re so pretty. you’re so fucking sexy.” she said, studying your face of pleasure.

“fuck, bils!” you screamed out, your nails digging into her cheeks. she didn’t care about the pain, she just loved making you feel good.

she started to pick up her pace, her hand joining the fun as she used her fingers to draw circles on your clit. you squealed as your body jolted, your tits bouncing with every thrust.

“fuck.. fuck… fuck…” the curses stumbled out of your mouth with each thrust. that rush of pleasure went straight through your body again.

“gonna cum, princess?” billie asked, you started to tighten around her cock, making it harder to continue her movements. you could only whimper out a soft ‘mmhm’, but that was good enough for billie.

“okay baby, why don’t you cum for me like the good girl you are, yeah? c’mon, you can do it. cum like a good girl.” she coaxed your second orgasm out of you.

the pleasure was building up from everything she was doing. the hand on your clit, her cock fucking into you and making you see stars. your body tensed up,

and then you released.

“billie!” you cried out, your body relaxing as you came on her cock, your arousal forming a ring at its base.

she kept thrusting into you, helping you ride out the crashing wave of an orgasm you just had. and then she pulled away, plopping down on the bed next to you.

“hey baby?” she spoke to you.

“hm?”

“i’ll only ever fuck you like this now.” she said.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ll only ever fuck you like we’re gods.”

—

author’s journal

pooookie nation!!!!! it’s been a while since i came out with something for billie and i had this sudden burst of inspiration to write this.

this one in particular is for @dandelions4us <33 i told u i’d come thru with this babes!!

going insane for crime billie now WOOF WOOF BARK BSRK

& also i hope u all enjoyed this you filthy animals

kisses xx

[heavenbarnes]

Um hi! I saw your reblog with Spencer in his FBI bulletproof vest and in the tags how you said you'd fuck him with it on!! Do you think you could write something about that??

I'm thinking like Reader is on the team with him.. sees him in it one day and can't stop gawking over him. So, one case they're on they ride together in the Suburban and Reader makes him pull off somewhere because they can't wait any longer for him to fuck them. Like semi-public sex, riding him in the suburban. Or like, if you didn't want it to be semi-public, Reader and him could be at the hotel they're staying at and she makes him keep it on to have sex..

A lot of hard work

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings/contains: no mention of reader’s gender, objectification (of one Spencer Reid), mentions of an unsub, Spencer is confident in this, inappropriate use of the FBI vest, swearing, dirty talk, humping, making out, semi-public, almostttt at the good stuff

I LOVE that you see my tags and I love even more you asked me to write from them! I hope you enjoy this! I did cut off right before the good parts so maybe, maaaaybe we could give it a p2

The adrenaline should’ve been wearing off.

It probably was, it was probably something entirely different twisting at the pit of your stomach.

Unsub shut in the back of the police car, SWAT retreating back in their trucks, the team were gathered around the hood of the suburban for a debrief.

A debrief you should’ve been listening to.

It was no use, as if you could hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears.

Hotch had his usual stern expression as he spoke, but the more you tried to focus on what he was saying- the more your eyes kept drifting just over his left shoulder.

This was fucking obscene.

All he was doing, all he was doing, was listening to your boss (like you should’ve been). His sunglasses were pushed up his nose, he had a few perfect curls falling across his forehead, as usual.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows and the high sun was glinting off the large watch on his wrist. Your eyes followed his, frankly perfect, forearms up to his hands.

Veins running just below the surface leading you to long fingers, all wrapped around the thick shoulder straps of his bullet-proof vest. The one that was spanned across his chest and sitting up on his waist.

Spencer Reid looked insanely fuckable with the vest on.

You were lucky Hotch had split you up when you’d arrived on scene. If you’d had to watch Spencer running before you in that vest, you think you might’ve had to ask the unsub to kill you next.

The sight was nearly obscene.

You’d managed, just and only managed to support your team and get the job done- putting your own debauched thoughts away long enough to be serious for a second.

But as everyone was dispersing from the scene, under orders to meet back in the bullpen for paperwork, you had a feeling it wasn’t over for you yet.

That feeling came with Spencer calling your name, simply gesturing towards an empty suburban as he flashed the keys.

When nobody else joined you in the back of the car, you knew there was no way it’d ever be over. Especially not when he sat in the driver seat, vest still firmly secured around him.

Dropping yourself into the passenger seat, you resorted to pressing one very warm cheek to the window in attempt to find some relief.

There was none to be found, not when Spencer was reaching one long arm behind your seat to reverse out of the spot- Lord have mercy.

You’d both managed to get some ten minutes into the trip before he’d piped up, before he’d acknowledged the obvious change in your behaviour.

“What’s going on with you?”

His eyes flickered off the road for a moment, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his thigh as he moved through the streets.

You shifted, uncomfortably shifted as you tried to play it off. “Nothing, I’m-“

“And I’m me, so don’t try lie.”

Rolling your eyes like a petulant child, you crossed your arms as you sunk further into the seat. It was easy done, you’d discarded your vest the minute you got in the car, unable to cope with the way it was suffocating you.

“Spencer, just leave it.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes, you couldn’t see it through his sunglasses but you could tell by the way his face rose and fell. He sucked in a deep breath before deciding someone needed to go first.

“You were too quick to get away from me as soon as we arrived and then spent the whole debrief staring at me like you either wanted me under you or dead- so what is it?”

That might’ve been the quickest anyone’s ever been profiled.

All part of the ordeal of being known, being so well known.

You shifted your gaze just enough to check if he was letting it go, sure enough, he was still switching between you and the road. It’s never over.

Absolutely you could tell him, you could just lay it all out and absolutely he’d be fine with it. But there was still such a sick knot in your stomach about having to fess up.

Weighing up your options (one of which included throwing open the car door) you saw movement out the corner of your eye.

Spencer’s free hand left his thigh and came to rest on the top of his vest, pulling it down slightly as he did it and drawing even more attention to the definition of his forearm.

“It’s the vest,” The words literally fell out of your mouth. “I want- need to fuck you with the vest on.”

You half expected him to crash the car. It would’ve made sense if he’d slammed on the breaks or even swerved a little. But he didn’t.

Spencer kept the car straight, eyes steadily moving to your face as he slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

Everything had gone quiet, like the world had stopped spinning. All you could hear was his simple question and maybe the odd voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea.

Thankfully, his voice was louder.

The moment his eyes went back on the road, his hand came off the vest to use his turn signal. He was pulling off down a trail road, industrial with an old factory at the base of it.

You knew it was abandoned, nobody had been there for years- it was on the map he’d annotated for the team at the beginning of this case.

Without a word, Spencer pulled up beside the building and the long grass. He put the car into park and removed his sunglasses before he ran a steady hand through his hair.

You’d been watching it all, slightly turned in your seat and studying his every move. There was no way you could help it. There was no way God could give you a man that looked like that and expect you to be normal about it.

All of a sudden, you saw Spencer reach beneath his seat. It rolled back slowly until he had a significant space between himself and the steering wheel.

Still, with no words exchanged, he brought his hand back to his thigh to pat it once- then twice. It was like a natural reaction for you, picking yourself up and scrambling across the centre console until you were situated in his lap.

Your fingers immediately closed around the straps of the vest, pulling him into you so your lips could meet with his. Spencer wasted no time in having his tongue in your mouth, immediately establishing his place.

It should’ve been embarrassing, pathetic really, the way your hips began to roll into his the minute he touched you. Large hands ran up your back, under your shirt and igniting your skin.

The vest was firm against your chest, almost keeping him from you but giving you exactly what you wanted. Pressing your forehead to his, you opened your eyes to get a good look at him under you.

He’d said you wanted one or the other.

You felt Spencer’s lips working up the front of your throat, teeth gently nipping at the skin as his hands worked down to the waistband of your pants.

You weren’t sure if he’d been as impatient as you- it was more likely you could give him a look any time of day and he’d be dropping to whatever position you needed him in. He was good that way.

As your hands splayed against the front of his vest, slowing inching down further as you continued to hump his lap- feeling him somehow getting even harder beneath you.

“Spencer-“ Your voice sounded breathy, desperate for him. “They’re gonna’ be back at the office soon.”

You heard him chuckle, the sound leaving his lips and reverberating off your throat. He nodded, just a little as his fingers began to work on the front of your pants.

He shuffled his hips forward, sinking down a bit further and giving you better access to his belt- the one you immediately began to undo.

“This is all for you, baby,” He sighed, feeling your hand reach into his pants. “You take whatever you need.”

[adverbally]

Searching for a Trail to Follow Again

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “The Night We Met - Lord Huron” | wc: 1,111 | rated: M | cw: nonexplicit sexual content | tags: Eddie’s insecurities, not really breakup sex, kind of more like goodbye sex, at least until Steve knocks some sense into Eddie, hopeful ending

———

Eddie has never understood the concept of breakup sex.

Either you were ending the relationship and didn’t care if you never saw the other person again, or you were still in love and devastated that they didn’t want you anymore. What closure could someone get from that?

He wishes he could go back to that ignorance. Now he knows that not all relationships end because the love is gone; now he understands wanting to make the last time special, to savor something you will probably never have again. Sure, it hurts to know the end is coming. But the end is coming whether you know it or not, and Eddie would rather be able to plan for it.

Their end is here. Tomorrow, Steve will be taking his community college credits to Ball State University to become a teacher. He’s so excited to start his deaf education program and work with kids like him. Eddie’s excited for him too, except that Muncie, Indiana is over 200 miles away from Chicago, where they’ve both been living with Robin.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Steve, but who wants to go to school with a partner chaining them down when they could be meeting new people, enjoying their youth? Who wants a loser like Eddie holding them back? Wannabe musician, part-time bartender, part-time record store clerk, full-time disappointment.

As much as Steve protests that line of thinking, he concedes that he won’t be able to make the trip back to Chicago often, between his coursework and his internship and working part-time. He refuses to call it a breakup, though; this is just a temporary disruption in their relationship.

Eddie wishes he had that confidence. Instead, he’s kissing Steve like it’s his last night on earth and committing everything to memory in case he never gets to touch Steve like this again. The lean muscle of him, the freckles that dot his skin, the coarse hair against Eddie’s fingertips, the taste of his sweat. The way Steve can’t seem to get enough of him, reluctant to let their lips part for more than a moment. The sounds he makes, low moans and gasps and quiet praise and Eddie’s name, over and over.

Afterward, they lie curled around each other in Eddie’s bed. Steve’s belongings are already packed and loaded into the truck he rented. The finality of everything is setting in but Eddie is determined not to be dramatic, just this once. He’ll enjoy Steve while he still has him and not waste the precious hours they have left.

“Maybe you can visit me sometime,” Steve suggests, like he wants to ask Eddie to come but doesn’t want to be too direct about it. Like Eddie isn’t grasping for any crumbs of Steve he can gather.

“If you want me to, I will,” Eddie promises.

“Of course I want you to.” Steve is quiet for a minute before he speaks again. “Are you saying goodbye to me? Was this– it felt�� I don’t know. I don’t want to leave with you thinking you’ll never see me again.”

How can Eddie explain that that’s how it feels? Steve is going to be at school for two or three years; that may be a short time in the grand scheme of things, but compared to how long they’ve been together? Compared to how many other people Steve has dated and slept with? Just because Steve has undeniably ruined Eddie for anyone else doesn’t mean the reverse is true.

So instead of trying to explain, he says, “You know, they say it’s, like, scientifically proven that you never forget the person who gave you your first kiss or the one who took your virginity.”

Steve laughs. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“It is!” Eddie insists. “And yeah, you weren’t my first kiss, but you were my first everything else, you know? And I don’t get to be that for you.”

“They may not be as glamorous, but I’ve had plenty of firsts with you,” Steve argues, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at Eddie. “Like, I had never laughed until I cried during sex before you. And I had never been to a metal concert until that one I saw with you.” His voice is soft when he continues, “I don’t think I’ve ever really, truly been in love with anyone but you, either.”

Eddie gnaws on his own lip, pulling at the dry skin until it starts to bleed. “Just because I was the first doesn’t mean I’ll be the last. There might be someone else out there for you.”

“Yeah, there’s probably someone else for you, too. It doesn’t matter, I don’t want someone else.” Steve’s hand is gentle on Eddie’s cheek, caressing the stubble along his jaw. “I want you. As long as you want me back, I’ll want you.”

“I just— I don’t want you to resent me when I’m not there.” Eddie can’t look away with Steve holding his face, so he can’t hide when he tears up. “I worry you’ll realize you’re too good for me, or you’ll wish you didn’t have to deal with me anymore or something.”

Steve looks devastated. “Baby, am I that bad at telling you how much you mean to me? I love you. I’ve loved you for two years, and I’ll keep loving you forever.”

Eddie sniffs as Steve helpfully wipes under his eye with his thumb. “That’s not always— What if the love isn’t enough?”

“What if it’s not?” Steve challenges him. “If we couldn’t make it work, what would you do?” When Eddie doesn’t respond, he continues, “I’d rather be with you now, really be present and enjoy our time together, than worry about some hypothetical. And even if it does end someday, I would rather face the pain of losing you than never have you at all.”

“I didn’t think about it that way,” Eddie admits, almost ashamed. Here he is, making Steve comfort him when he should be focusing on Steve.

“I get it if you’re scared. I’m scared, too. I’m gonna be in a new place, studying hard, and I’m not gonna have you there to make it better.” Steve’s smile is fond and a little teasing. “But we can still talk and send letters. And three hours isn’t that long of a drive.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. You’re right, of course. I want to be here for you. Even if I can’t always be there.”

“So be here now, and be here when I come back.” The kiss Steve lays on his cheek is chaste, but it might be the most intimate feeling Eddie has ever experienced.

[prazinos]

Everyone loves a Ghost mechanic AU, but I raise you mechanic au where the roles are reversed.

Simon cursed as the engine to his truck made the third unpleasant grinding sound within the past half an hour. He didn’t exactly know a lot about cars, so he thought it would be better to just drive to a mechanic. And that’s exactly what he did. 

Pulling into the mechanic garage, Simon stepped out, brows furrowing when he can’t see anyone.

“Hey, hun. What can I do you for?” a voice rang out from behind him, and when Simon turned and looked down, he saw you. A woman who looked far too pretty to be working in a dingy mechanic shop. You were far more fit to be in SImon’s house, all barefoot and pregnant, greeting him with a kiss and a hug when he gets home from work. 

“Hello? You need something done on your truck?” you asked, snapping Simon out of his thoughts.

“Uh, engines making a sound. Like grinding.” Simon muttered, voice gruff “I'd fix it myself but all I know about cars is how to change a tire.”

You seemed satisfied with that answer, wiping your hands on a rag you had tucked into your overalls, before walking over to the front of the old beat up red truck, and popping open the hood.

Simon leaned against a concrete pillar, crossing his arms and staring at you. He didn’t trust easily.

After you’d looked at his car, you wiped your hands again, before going up to Simon. “It seems to be your bearings, sweet pea. Gonna be around four hundred, I can have it done in a few hours” you informed him. Simon couldn’t help the twinge of amusement at the nicknames you’re calling him.

Simon nodded silently, before pulling out his wallet.

“But,” you start, a coy smile on your lips “i’ll only charge you three hundred cause you’re cute”

The tips of Simon’s ears go red, something that happened whenever he was flustered. Been happening since he was a kid and Penny on the playground gave him a kiss on the cheek before running away. And judging by how your coy smile only grows wider, you notice his flustered give away as well.

“Right…thanks” Simon says, still reeling from your boldness. “You uh…You take care of my truck. Real attached to that thing” he finished.

“Oh don’t worry, by the time you come back to pick her up, she’ll be stripped and sold for whatever parts I can salvage.” you quipped, biting your lip as you grinned. The action made Simon swoon slightly.

Simon ended up leaving and going to a coffee shop nearby, talking to Price on the phone about an upcoming mission while he waited.

When Simon got back, he couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at the small amount of grease smeared on your cheek. You walked over, wiping your hands on your overalls this time, not the rag.

“All fixed up for you moonpie,” you grin, “I’m about to close up for the day so you best go on now.” you smile, holding the keys out to him.

Simon grunted and nodded, “thank you” he murmured, taking his keys from your hand, noting how much bigger his hand was compared to yours, before turning and getting in his truck, reversing out of the garage.

He grimaced slightly when the sun hit his eyes while he waited for an entrance to pull out onto the road, the sun was setting yet not all the way set, at that annoying angle which practically blinded him.

So, he quickly pressed the sunglasses compartment above him, Simon’s eyes widening for a moment when a piece of paper fell out alongside his sunglasses. 

“You’re sweet on the eyes, sweet pea. Call me sometime xoxo" with your phone number scribbled on it.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Going Public || CL16

Another little blurb that was sitting in my drafts... F1 Masterlist

“We heard your girlfriend is a driver for Ferrari too, can we expect a friendly race anytime soon?”

Charles smiled towards the Ferrari crew that was watching the interview from the side of the stage, knowing you were somewhere among them. “Oh no, she’s way too competitive, and unless it’s in a F1 car she will 100% beat me.”

The interviewer laughed along with the crowd. “Surely not?”

“She’s absolutely fearless!” he said seriously as he sat up straighter. “And she’s not even a racer.”

The woman frowned as she looked at her cue card. “I thought she was a driver?”

You saw the pride on Charles' face when he grinned at Carlos sitting next to him, who was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand. 

“She is, but she doesn’t race.” The interviewer was growing more confused and you could see the fans taking all the information in to try and figure out your identity after nearly a year of dating under the radar.

“She drives the transporter rig,” Carlos clarified with a laugh. “Which is perfect because Charles can’t parallel park to save his life, so he gets his girlfriend to do it for him. She is very good at it.”

The People’s Prince of Monaco is dating a Trucker???

The F1 Gossip pages were going crazy after the interview and you sat scrolling through them with an amused chuckle. 

“Babe, have you seen this one?” you asked as you showed him the latest meme. Some clever person had taken a picture of an overweight middle-aged man in a red plaid shirt over a dirty wife-beater, slapped a Ferrari badge on his truck and trailer and a long blonde wig on his head. The caption: Leclerc’s new girl. “I wish I could pull off that shirt.”

Two weeks later.

The camera crew were waiting out on the track and you caught Charles’ eyes in the mirror as you fixed your hair. 

“Ready, mi amor?” 

“How do I look?” you asked as you gave him a spin to show off your outfit. 

“Gorgeous as always,” he said with a wink. “And a little bit scary if I'm honest.”

You straightened up the collar of the red plaid shirt and brushed your fingers along his jaw. “Is it the wife beater or the wig?”

“Maybe the big dick energy?”

“Gotta play the part, baby,” you teased as you swaggered over to the door with exaggerated steps. “This is what your fans are expecting of me.”

Marketing and Promo were having a field day. They had scoured the internet for ideas to make this video after Charles had given them the heads up that you were going to take your relationship public. You were both more than happy to make it a unique announcement since a sense of humour was something that you both shared.

The final cut was a work of art, and you had watched it at least three times over as your stomach ached from all the laughter. There had been parking challenges, slalom races through cone tracks, and even hot laps around the circuit in Imola. It had been an absolute thrill to shoot, especially with the ridiculous costume, but you were glad to be back in your own clothes.

“Well at least you didn’t lie in that interview,” you pointed out after seeing the final score for the challenges. “You won the F1 race.”

Charles draped a lazy arm over your shoulders and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke, “Would you believe if I said I practised reversing and parallel parking with Pierre all week?”

You paused the replay on the tv and shifted onto his lap, cradling his face in your palms. “Oh, my love, Pierre can’t park any better,” you said before your lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “You should have asked Kika.”

[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.

Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.

When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.

To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.

It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”

You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.

His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.

“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.

You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.

“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.

A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.

You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.

“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.

There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.

What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.

“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.

“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.

“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”

“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”

“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”

“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.

You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.

There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.

“Don’t”, you squeal.

He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.

“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.

You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.

“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.

“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”

“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”

“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”

“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”

“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”

You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.

The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.

“Duke?”, you ask.

He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.

“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.

That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?

“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.

A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.

In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.

Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.

“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.

His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.

“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.

You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?

“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.

Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.

Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.

Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.

“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.

“How do you know my name?”

“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.

You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.

“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.

Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.

“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”

“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”

“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”

The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.

While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.

“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.

You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.

“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.

Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.

“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.

“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”

“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”

“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”

“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.

The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.

“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.

First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.

“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”

Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.

“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.

“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.

Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.

You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.

“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.

Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.

“Boxes?”, Jay asks.

“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.

“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.

He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.

“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.

“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.

“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.

“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.

He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.

“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.

“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.

“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.

Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?

Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.

“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”

And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.

That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.

[smoketransformer]

A Life on the Road

Harry Hamner had a lot going for him, but it wasn’t enough. After recently being accepted to a very prestigious medical school, he started having doubts. Was the life of a doctor, just like his parents, one that he really wanted?

Harry had always fantasized a life as a truck driver. He would be able to travel the country without a care in the world. Sure, sitting all day probably wasn’t the healthiest - but he didn’t care. He wanted to live his life the way he wanted it and he could do that on the road.

One morning, Harry woke up to the sound of a loud horn. At first, he tried to ignore it but it was consistent and close. Harry got up from his bed and looked out the window. He saw a massive semi truck parked in the driveway. There was no trailer on it, but it still looked huge.

Confused, he quickly threw on a flannel and jeans and went outside to check it out and look for the owner.

He approached the truck and didn’t see the driver. The truck was beautiful. He was painted black, but had streaks that looked like wisps of smoke around. There was a decal on the the driver side door that read ���Big Ol’ Smoke Trucking Co.”

He opened the door and a thought - no, an urge - came across him. He should sit in the driver seat, just for a minute, to see how it was sitting behind the wheel. He always wanted this opportunity.

Harry climbed up and sat in the seat. It was both new and familiar. It was where he belonged. The keys were in the ignition. He wanted to hear the engine roar, so he turned them. The engine came to life with such power.

Without even thinking, Harry shifted the truck into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. He was a natural, as if he was driving large rigs for most of his life.

He shifted it into drive and drove down the road. He didn’t know where he was going, but he drove like he did.

It felt like he was driving for just a few minutes, but it actually was for hours. He turned the radio on to the old country music station; he usually liked current pop, but this just fit the mood.

He made it out of the city and was driving past acres of crops. He was driving the speed limit, but noticed some flashing blue and red lights behind him.

“Shit,” he said to himself. The truck was probably reported as stolen and this dream would end for him. He pulled over and stopped the truck. The sheriff car behind him parked behind him.

The sheriff approached the cab. He was wearing a large hat and dark aviator glass. He sported a very thick, black mustache and had a large billiard pipe sticking out of his mouth.

“Is there a problem, sheriff?” Harry sheepishly asked.

“Reports of a missing truck. One like this,” the deep voice of the sheriff replied, “License and registration.”

Harry tried to act casual by reaching over to the glove box on the passenger side. He opened it up and noticed a light brown pipe and a pouch of tobacco. He pulled it out.

“Pipe smoker as well?” the sheriff asked, with his pipe still clinched in his teeth.

“Ummm…yeah,” Harry lied, thinking maybe the sheriff would let him off easy as a fellow pipe smoker. He set the pipe and pouch on the passenger seat and grabbed the license with registration.

“Not many of us around anymore, real smokin’ men,” the sheriff added as Harry handed him the paperwork. Harry didn’t know what was on it, but was hoping it would pass.

The sheriff looked at it, still smoking his pipe. The smoke smelled nice, Harry thought. To sell the lie that he was also a pipe smoker, he grabbed the pipe. He noticed it was already packed with tobacco and placed it in his mouth. He wasn’t going to light it though, but thought this was enough pass as a smoker.

“Got turned around, I think,” Harry said between the pipe in his teeth, “This was to Duvall, right?”

“Sure is,” the sheriff confirmed, “Picking up a load there?”

“Sure am,” Harry answered.

“More than a day’s drive though. There is a truck stop on the way though. Sure you’ll find it,” the sheriff added as he handed the paperwork back, “Everything checks out, Harold. You can go on your way. Have a nice day.”

Harold? Nobody ever calls him by his birth name, not even his parents. How did the sheriff know his name?

“Umm, yeah. You too, Sheriff,” Harry said as the sheriff walked off and he was looking at the paperwork.

His license had his birth name: “Harold Hamner” and birthday: “September 23”; but that was the only thing correct. It said the year he was born was 1963, making him 60 years old. His weight was also at 285 pounds, when he was actually 160. His photo was also not of him, but of a heavy old man with a balding head and large grey mustache. How did this pass the sheriff’s inspection? But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did pass.

The sheriff drove past him as he started the truck back up. Harry continued down the road, without realizing the pipe was still in his mouth.

He continued down the road and onward to the town of Duvall. He started singing along to the radio with the pipe still in his mouth. It was the first time hearing most of these old country songs, but he somehow knew every word. He had almost forgotten that the load he had to pick up in the town was a made up story, but he still was heading there.

Harry was enjoying every minute of his journey. He was so much that he didn’t notice he started puffing away at the pipe in his jaw. He didn’t recall lighting it, but it somehow was starting to release smoke.

Harry thought the smoke tasted nice and smelled wonderful. He could get use to this. He even started inhaling a bit. It wasn’t harsh on his lungs; in fact, it was soothing and relaxing.

Harry was so in tuned to this way of life, he didn’t notice that he was building some fat on him. It was as if he had been sitting in the driver seat everyday for the past several years, eating only the greasiest of diner food. His hair was also thinning and he sprouted a short mustache. The cab of the truck was starting to get hazy from his constant pipe smoking.

He probably didn’t notice these changes because thoughts of him doing this for the past 10 years flooded his mind. To him, this was just who he was and has been.

Another 10 miles went by and another 10 years gone in Harry’s mind. Harry was stuck in thought as he puffed on his pipe. He couldn’t believe that he had been driving this truck for 20 years. He loved his career as a truck driver. He could smoke all day, sit on his fat ass, snack all he wanted and enjoy the views.

Harry’s hair had started falling out only on the top of his head and his clothes were getting tight. His fatty double chin was protruding and scrunched against his shirt. His mustache now bushier and smelling of tobacco smoke.

It was starting to get dark as Harry was pulling into the truck stop. An old man like himself had to get some rest before his next day of driving. After driving for 40 years, he knew it was best to take breaks in the evening.

He parked and pulled off his flannel since it was just way too tight on him. Luckily he had a large tank top behind his seat that he put on. His skin was wrinkly and his hair was grey, almost white. The only bit of color was yellow nicotine stain in his mustache since his pipe never left his mouth.

He struggled to get out of his seat due to his size. He waddled to the truck stop bathroom, leaving a trail of smoke, when he noticed the sheriff.

The sheriff’s car was parked and the owner was leaning against the side, with his arms crossed, dark sunglasses hiding most of his face and pipe clenched tightly in his saw.

Smoke poured from the sheriff’s mouth when he said, “Glad you found your way, Harold.”

Harold’s voice, deepened by his age and years of smoking, replied “Me too, Sheriff. Me too.”

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Four - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, and Chapter Three! Masterlist :)

Chapter Four - Out Wrangled

Tyler had paid for breakfast, leaving a generous tip for the gals who both gave you smiles and winks as they watched him open the door for you. 

“Are you ready to experience not Youtube star Tyler, darlin?” He asked, walking over to the passenger side of his truck. 

“And there’s going to be no crazy schemes or secret live streams to embarrass me?” You asked, leaning against the truck. 

“Promise,” he said, opening the door for you. 

You squinted your eyes at him, unsure if he was being serious or not. You got inside the truck, gently placing the flowers in the backseat so they didn’t get crushed. Tyler shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side and slid into his seat. Being inside the famous red truck made you feel like you were in some sort of spaceship with how many buttons and switches there were. Some of the labels in Boone’s handwriting made you giggle, ‘color booms’ and ‘stay putters’ were the best two of the bunch. 

“Admiring Boone’s handy work?” He asked, putting his seatbelt on and putting the key in the ignition. 

“I don’t know if handy work is the right word,” you laughed, “Maybe lack of English skills, but I’ll let it slide.” 

“Yeah, he ain’t the brightest bulb when it comes to that, but he’s great with a camera,” Tyler laughed, turning the key and the truck firing up. 

“I’m glad your music isn’t as loud as this morning,” you teased, putting your seatbelt and sunglasses on. 

“I thought no one saw,” he groaned, putting his forehead on the steering wheel. 

You laughed, “If I count as no one, then yes. No one saw.” 

“Ugh,” he groaned, leaning back and putting his cowboy hat in the middle of the dash, “No, you’re not a no one. But I was really hoping I went unnoticed.” 

“You? Unnoticed? Ha!” You said, putting your phone in the cup holder and squeezing your purse under the armrest. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” He asked, looking over at you over his sunglasses. 

“You’re basically a star in all of Tornado Alley, Owens,” you stated, looking back at him, “You could walk into a Walmart and be surrounded by people, even if they didn’t like you, they would flock to you.” 

He smirked, “Can’t help people enjoy watching what I do, but they’ll never enjoy it as much as me.” 

“It’ll be a hell of a way to go,” you said, crossing your legs and looking out the window, “Headlines stating Tornado Alley’s biggest Tornado Wrangler got out wrangled in his last tornadeo!” 

“Ouch,” he said, putting the truck in reverse and heading west of town. 

“You’ll be fine,” you said, rolling the window down. 

“You better hope so, otherwise you get to drive back,” he said, “And it’s a two-hour drive to where we’re going.” 

“Which is where? Do I need to inform my next of kin where they’ll find my body?” You joked, glancing over at him. 

“What?” He laughed, “You will be fine, I’ll keep you safe like my life depends on it.” 

“Good, because it does,” you said, looking over your sunglasses to watch his eyebrows go up, “My team is pretty protective of me.” 

He swallowed hard, “I know…” 

“Why don’t we listen to the radio?” you asked, turning the dial to hear the start of  The Dixie Chicks singing ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.’ 

This is where you had to decide how comfortable you were going to be with Tyler as this was the song you sang that won you the high school talent show. As you were debating on it, you noticed Tyler tapping the steering wheel along to the drums, at least you knew his taste in music was the same as yours.

As if it was planned, you both started to hum along softly before it got to the chorus. 

“Oh, it sounds good to me,” you sang softly, grabbing his hat and placing it on your head, “I said, cowboy, take me away.” 

Tyler glanced over at you, a smile coming to his face as he heard you sing. He’s heard a lot of great artists over his years of listening to music and seeing live performances, but none compared to the melody coming out of you. On top of that, putting his hat on while being in his truck? He fell even more head over heels for you, knowing deep down he was to do everything in his power to spend his life with you. 

“I wanna look at the horizon, and not see a building standing tall,” you sang softly, adjusting in your seat to put your boots on the dash, “I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile.” 

As he drove he pictured just that, the idea of having a little slice of Heaven with you sounded so peaceful. All too soon the song ended and moved onto one he could sing along to, even though he knew you could too. 

“Little place is a little bit understated, yeah, the O.J. 's always concentrated,” he sang, rolling his window down, “The AC’s broke so we gotta sleep naked, it’s a good day for livin’.” 

“Since when can this cowboy sing?” You asked, looking over at him while swaying your feet to the beat of Joe Nichols’ ‘Good Day for Living.’ 

“Since I was little, how about you Miss American Idol?” He asked, “You’d be America’s next big star, bigger than Lainey Wilson.” 

“Haha, I’ve tried back home,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt, “Didn’t get me very far so I came up here and started storm chasing.” 

“Have you ever thought about going to Nashville?” He asked, knowing he would hate if you left, but he wanted you to live your dreams. 

“No, if I did grow into anything, I wanted to do it organically. Not the cookie-cutter molds that usually come out of Nashville,” you scoffed slightly. 

“Oh, you seem like you’ve had a bad experience with it?” He asked, his tone being hushed as he didn’t want to bring up any bad feelings. 

“I didn’t personally but one of my uncles tried and was told to do the opposite of what he was doing to become a star,” you said, “It is what it is, but I vowed I would never do it that way.” 

“Understandable, darlin’,” he said, leaning back into his seat and driving with his left hand. 

It was silent in the cab for about a half hour of the drive, just listening to music and feeling the warm breeze on your skin. You glanced over at the clock on the radio, it reading 10:26 am. You had been driving for an hour since leaving the diner, and you still had no idea where you were headed. You weren’t sure what all there was to do in Oklahoma besides chase storms or a rodeo. While you were thinking over all the things you could figure out to do in the state, your phone ringing pulled you from your thoughts.

Asher was calling you. As much as you appreciated him being a part of Storm Riders, he followed you around like a lost puppy and did everything you told him to do. If you told him to jump into the Grand Canyon, he would. 

You picked up your phone, answering “This is (Y/n).”

“(Y/N)! What am I supposed to do on a day off? I’ve already gone through the whole checklist you made for me when it’s a clear day, but now I’m stuck sitting in the van waiting,” he said, “Everyone went to the big town close by to go shopping and sightseeing.” 

“Why don’t you take the drone out and fly around the area, see if you can find some wildlife, and get some cool pictures of nature, Ash,” you said, bringing your hand to your forehead and rubbing circles gently. 

“Where are you even? Your truck is here, but you’re not. You weren’t even here when we all got up,” he said, you could hear the shuffling of papers and a door opening. 

“I went out with someone,” you stated plainly, “Go fly the drone, and if you get bored call Willow or Jade. I’m going to be unavailable for the rest of the day.” 

“O-Okay,” he said and hung up. 

You sighed, “I love that kid but he needs to grow more independent.” 

Tyler laughed, shaking his head, “Send him with us for a while and he’ll learn quick.” 

“Really?” You asked a little too quickly. 

“I’ll let Ben ride with you so he can get better shots of Ol Red here and the team shooting more fireworks into a ‘nado,” he said, smirking. 

“Only you, Tyler,” you laughed, leaning onto the armrest and laying your hand over the edge. 

Tyler glanced over and decided it was now or never. He took a deeper breath and grabbed your hand with his, giving it a soft squeeze. Why this caused you to jump, you’ll never know, but it did.

Want more? Here's Chapter Five!

[heartpascal]

the gold. . .

▹ — joel miller x f!reader

▹ — summary: you don’t like the person joel’s become.

▹ — a/n: not my favourite writing ever :( i love this concept tho it would make such good angst!!! also i’m only part way through the game so idk if this sorta thing is really covered :’) either way, go easy on me pls <3 kinda tempted to do a pt 2 where they meet again years later via tess buuuut yk

▹ — warnings: angst, like. quite a bit of it, joel’s kinda a bad person ish, grief, arguments, (mentioned) killing, blood

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The outbreak had torn the world apart, it had torn your world apart. But then again, that was everybody’s story, anyone who managed to survive had lost everything they valued. Most people had to have the debate if survival was even worth the suffering or seemed to come pre-packaged with.

Hell, you were one of the lucky ones! You were alive, your fiancé was alive, but the two of you had lost the thing most precious to you; Sarah.

For a long time, you were convinced that you’d soon follow her footsteps, finally kick the bucket in some way or other. But miracle after miracle led to you living, with a lot of those miracles being orchestrated by Joel or Tommy. For years, the three of you looked after each other, surviving in the QZ together as best as you could. Sure, you and Joel wouldn’t be getting married, and yes, Tommy became more restless as the days went on, but you were together.

You thought that was all that mattered.

An aching that started at your chest had long since spread to the rest of your body, settling heavily in your bones and leaving you exhausted.

Tired of Joel being out all times of the night, with his newest crew of people who you couldn’t help but get chills from. Tired of Tommy refusing to cooperate with the authorities in this dystopian world that was now your reality. Tired of being the only one who was still trying to stick together, to survive together.

There was nothing worse than watching the man you love die in front of your very eyes. It was slow, at first, the grief over Sarah making everything seem minor, excusable. It made the world harder to live in, the centre of both yours and Joel’s universe now suddenly gone, and it was like you’d lost your orbit. Like you were floating in space, unsure where you were meant to be going.

Eventually, you found Joel and Tommy being the people you’d orbit. Somehow, you always came back to the shitty apartment that Joel refused to make feel anything like a home.

You were the only one who knew that this was your reality now, and you could either live in it, or you should have just died with Sarah. You wanted to live, with Joel, with his brother, who used to be your best friend.

It started when Joel finally figured out the best, most efficient, way to sneak out of the QZ without being caught.

You felt uneasy for days, unsure as to why, but when you saw Joel hammering nails into a strip of leather, you couldn’t help but feel something was very, very wrong. You knew it was a bad idea to follow him, knew you could get everyone, including Joel and yourself, caught and likely killed, but you had to know what was going on, what they were getting up to.

With your heart hammering inside your chest, you watched from a small distance away as Joel rolled out the leather strip along a road, confusion dancing across your eyebrows. It was only when you heard the distinct rev of a truck engine that you realised what he could be doing.

A man splashed with blood stepped out of the building, screaming at the people in the truck for help, for anything, and you watched as they approached him hesitantly, the truck rolling over the nails in the leather strip.

The tires screeched as all the air streamed out, the truck trying to reverse but not getting far enough as the group — Joel’s group — approached.

You turned away, hurrying back to the QZ with your stomach turning, your whole body flinching when you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Managing to sneak back in to the QZ without being caught would’ve impressed you, had you not just witnessed a horror you almost couldn’t fathom. When you got back to your dingy apartment, you pulled open the cupboard that the weapons were kept in, and held your hand over your mouth when you saw the gun that usually sat locked in there was gone.

Your brain could barely catch up, the thought of Joel, your Joel, killing those people was strongly refuted, your own mind betraying you by conjuring up old images of domestic bliss.

Sarah’s head across your lap as you leant into Joel’s chest, one hand gently holding on to her hair, whilst your other was occupied by Joel’s own. Mornings of Joel scrambling around the house, running late as usual, whilst you and Sarah cooked breakfast together. Then, the three of you sat at the dining table, you and Sarah playfully arguing over who got shell in the pan whilst you were cooking.

The day Joel had asked you to marry him, with Sarah stood by his side, just coming up on twelve years old, her eyes so big and wide as she smiled at you. The two of them having matching expressions as they awaited your answer: a package deal, the two of them.

How could this man be the same one you lived with now? How could he hurt those people, unprompted by anybody but the shitbags he had started hanging around with? You felt sick to your stomach, like everything around you wasn’t real. Surely, you’d wake up any second, see Sarah already up and bruising her teeth. You’d go back upstairs to make sure Joel was awake, before continuing to help Sarah with breakfast. This whole outbreak thing had to be a dream, because you didn’t know what you’d do if it wasn’t.

What would you do, if the reality is that the man you love is dead? If he’s gone, twisted and darkened beyond recognition?

But that night, when Joel returned late as usual, you saw a splash of red underneath his jacket. He came in with more supplies, things you hadn’t been able to find for weeks, that miraculously turned up, he claimed. He shoved the gun back in the cupboard, locking it up as casually as you’d lock your back door.

You had no choice but to face the truth; you lost everyone the night of the outbreak. Sarah is dead, and now, clearly, so is Joel. There’s nothing left of the man you agreed to marry, not a single drop of that love reflected in his hollow eyes.

He saw you staring at him, eyes wide with what could only be horror, and snapped, “What? I got somethin’ on my face?”

“I can’t believe you— I can’t believe you!” You cried out, standing from the couch you’d been sat on since your return, awaiting his arrival anxiously. Everything within you was hoping you’d just found his doppelgänger, or something, but no. This was Joel, your Joel did this.

His eyes hardened, eyebrow casting shadows over the brown colour you remembered so fondly, “What can’t you believe now?” He scoffed out, shoving his backpack off of his shoulder and dropping it loudly on the wooden floor.

“I followed you,” you told him, watching the way his eyes widened, realisation hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I saw you, and your—your group. How could you do that? Those were people, Joel, people! Trying to survive in this hellhole just like you and me!”

Joel’s jaw clenched, “You think you know everything, huh?” He asked, sneering at you, acting as if you were an idiot, as if you were just a naive little girl who didn’t know anything about the real world.

“I’ve surely seen enough! You planned that. You helped them do that. People are dead, because of you.”

“Everybody is dead!” Joel retorted, his voice reaching the level of yelling, and he shocked even himself with his lack of restraint, the comment pulling every reservation you had from your body.

“I’m not.”

His eyes followed you as you stood, watched as your face hardened to that of stone, a look he had never seen from you. At least, not directed towards him. It filled his chest with some kind of dread, one of the first feelings besides anger and something a step further than heartbreak since Sarah had died in his arms.

You huffed, shoving past him and pretending you didn’t notice him following close on your feet. You grabbed your backpack, shoving the few clothes you wore often into it, as well as the brush you kept beside what could only be loosely referred to as your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you, anywhere as long as it’s far, far, away from you.” You snapped at him, the bite in your words unfamiliar to him. “You think everyone is dead, but they’re not. I’m not. You’re not. This isn’t some fantasy land where bad things don’t count, Joel.”

“I’m doing what it takes to survive!” Joel counters you, his fingertips stretching in order to reach out for you, but he closes his hand into a fist before it gets close to you.

“That’s a lie, and you know it.” You tell him, unable to even look in his direction.

He sucks in a long breath, closing his eyes as he tries to remain composed. When he opens them, he sees you looking over at him, and he wished he’d kept them closed. Your eyes, which had once looked at Joel with nothing but adoration, were filled with angry tears, and you stared at him with something new, the warmth gone from your gaze.

“I get that you’re still grieving Sarah, so am I, but I would never do something like that. The you that I know? He wouldn’t either.”

Your voice was softened when you spoke, giving him this one chance to repent his sins, but the mention of his daughter sends him over the edge once more, words flying out of his mouth far before he could even think to stop them.

“You don’t get it,” he snarled, face red and matching the blood that stained his clothes, “She’s—was my daughter, not yours, you could never understand.”

You stared at him, expression unchanging even as Joel seemed to sober up, realising he might’ve gone a step too far. You could see the situation more clearly, and if he’d have listened, you would’ve told him he’d leaped across the line.

He reaches for you, trying to keep his grasp on you, but you pull away before his fingers could even graze your skin.

Joel’s face falls, but you stand firm.

“Sarah was my daughter, Joel. The closest thing I’ll ever get to having one, anyway. I certainly loved her like she was my own.” You say, his eyes falling closed as he let out a breath through his nose. “This isn’t what she would’ve wanted for you.”

You think of the little girl who looked up to Joel as if he hung the stars and moon himself, and for her, you’re sure he would have done. You stare at the man in front of you, and you find no resemblance to that little girl’s dad.

“Listen—”

“No, Joel! I’m done, you hear me?” You yell out, swinging your bag across your back, “I’m done.”

You pull off the engagement ring that hadn’t left your hand in years, and shove it into his hand as you pass by him, walking back towards the living room. Your hands fumble as you reach into the weapons cupboard, and you hear Joel’s hurried footsteps as he approaches you. Your hands grasp the gun, and you check the ammo, seeing that yes, there were bullets missing. It gets shoved in your bag, along with the knife you had dropped in there once moving in.

“You—c’mon, you can’t do this!” Joel pleads then, his hands reaching for you once more, but once again finding nothing to hold on to, with you moving away from him to grab the few ration cards you’d earned recently. “The—there’s curfew, just stay, stay here.”

You shake your head firmly, unable to tell him no to his face. Your confidence is fading, and you just want to curl up and cry, preferably in the arms of the man you love.

“Don’t leave me,” he says, his fist squeezed tightly around your engagement ring, not wanting to lose it. He feels sick, seeing your hand bare of it. “We—we made a promise to each other! Darlin’ just listen to me!”

“I can’t,” you say, your voice shaking and unsteady, “It’s too late, Joel. You’re too late. I—I don’t even know who you are!”

“It’s me, darlin’, it’s still me.” Joel insists as you approach the door, pulling it open, but you just don’t recognise him.

“No,” you refute, “this isn’t you.”

You close the door behind you, hearing the crash of the weapons cupboard hitting the floor, the sound of Joel’s yell only cementing your decision to make a hasty exit.

[ivelle-serenity]

Skateboard 15

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: back to Demitra's POV :))

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.

I was gasping for breath as I climbed off my bike. I couldn’t take it anymore and yanked off the face mask. It felt like no one would recognize me as long as I had the blonde wig and makeup disguising my face. My hands gripped my knees as I doubled over, trying to catch my breath. My head was spinning, and it felt like I could throw up any second. My heart was still pounding in my chest. I’ve raced before, but nothing had ever pushed me to the edge like this. That race almost killed me!

"Shelly!" Dom’s shout cut through the noise. I glanced to the side and saw Jay, also struggling for air, wiping the sweat from his face. He was staring at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw concern in his eyes. Was that real? Or was I just imagining things?

"Are you okay? Do you feel anything? Do we need to go to the hospital?" June’s voice was frantic as he bent down to look me in the eyes. I raised my hand to stop him.

"I-I’m fine," I whispered, my voice shaky.

"The hell you are—Where's the medic? Hey! My friends were almost crushed by that truck! Are you even thinking straight? Do you plan on getting them killed? Tell me, because if I find out who set up this round, I’ll be the one to end them!" Dom was already causing a scene, yelling at the staff. June and Minu were holding him back, but Dom wouldn’t stop. His eyes were burning with rage.

"Let me see that." I was caught off guard when Jay appeared in front of me, grabbing my arm where the scrape was. My eyes widened as I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, firm but gentle. "You’re hurt," he said quietly, disbelief in his voice.

"It’s just a scratch," I muttered, turning my gaze away. "I’m sorry for what I did back there. I didn’t plan to pull that move. I just panicked when I saw the truck coming. I was going to ride the wall like you, but I was too late—"

"Stop apologizing. You’re the one who got hurt. This isn’t your fault." His voice was sharp, and the intensity in his eyes stunned me. I could see it now—the worry and the anger written all over his face.

"Shut the fuck up and get your manager out here!" Dom shouted at the staff, who were already scrambling, overwhelmed by his outburst. I saw his girlfriend rushing toward him, trying to calm him down. Aria and Mia approached me, causing Jay to step back and give them space.

"Demitr—I mean, Shelly! You’re bleeding! We need to get you to a hospital," Mia said, eyeing the blood dripping from my wound. I shook my head.

"I’ll live. It’s not life-threatening."

"But—"

"Dom," Jay called out, catching his attention, along with Minu and June. "Let’s go to your place. Let’s just leave." Jay's voice was low, clearly irritated. Dom clenched his jaw but eventually followed Jay’s lead.

Mia and Aria helped me walk, despite my insistence that I was fine. As we made our way back to the car, reporters and cameras started swarming around us. A few of the guys formed a barrier to block the cameras, and I silently thanked them for it. They ushered me into the car first, while Mia, Aria, Minu, and Yuna took another vehicle. This time, I was no longer in the front passenger seat. Instead, I sat in the back with June and Jay, while Dom took the seat I had occupied earlier.

"I’m still not done talking to those idiots back there. I can’t believe a truck almost hit you two. You were nearly killed!" Dom ranted, his voice rising in anger. I leaned my head back against the seat, holding onto my injured arm.

"I don’t get why they even included that. The earlier parts of the race were fine, but a moving truck? If I’d been there, I would’ve been dead for sure," June muttered, shaking his head.

"Stop touching it; you’re going to infect it," Jay said, suddenly pulling my hand away from my wound. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d know—his mom’s a doctor. The cut was stinging badly, but I couldn’t stop myself from gripping it.

"The Principal is calling us," Dom said, holding up his phone. I took a sip of water that Jay had handed me from the back.

"Don’t answer it," I said quietly but firmly. Everyone paused. "Trust me, just don’t. I’ll handle it tomorrow. Besides, Nick and I have other things to discuss." Dom and Jay exchanged glances, thinking I didn’t notice.

June let out a deep breath beside me. "You know, despite everything, I’m just glad we won this round," he said with a small smile.

"Damn right. And you know what that means? We’re celebrating at my place! Let’s drink!" Dom shouted, grinning wide. His driver nodded in agreement, as if giving his blessing to the plan.

"I'll just head home—"

"Not until we treat that wound," Jay interrupted again. I shot him a glare, yanked off my wig, and tossed it to the back of the car, running a hand through my tangled curls.

"I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Jay. I’m not Shelly anymore. It’s me, Demitra." I laughed, but he didn’t even flinch. I couldn’t believe how serious he was about my injury. Was it because he’s a doctor’s son? I wouldn’t be surprised if he always carried around a first aid kit. "Fine," I sighed, giving in.

When we arrived at Dom’s place, I couldn’t believe how massive it was. He was definitely loaded. I thought he was joking about his family being part of the Yakuza, but now it all made sense. He sure didn’t look the part, though. As we entered the house, a group of men—likely Dom’s men—greeted us. He immediately ordered one of them to grab a medical kit for my wound.

"Your dad isn’t home, Master," one of his bald-headed men informed him.

"Thank fuck. Get the drinks out and order some food. We need to celebrate." Dom commanded, already stripping off his shirt.

Before long, Minu, Aria, Mia, and Yuna arrived as well. Mia offered to tend to my wound, but I couldn’t help but notice Jay eyeing her as if he wanted to do it himself. Was he really being that much of a perfectionist? Or did he not trust his own friend to handle it?

"I need a shower. I feel sticky," Dom announced, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

"You do smell," Yuna shot back, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful shove toward the bathroom.

"Wow, you brought extra clothes, Jay?," Aria shockingly said, noticing him pulling clothes from his bag. I glanced at Jay, who looked like he was about to head off to clean up as well.

"Demitra, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. We had no idea that would happen. If we did, we never would’ve asked you to join the race," Minu said, sounding genuinely apologetic. I chuckled and shook my head.

"Why are you more worried about me than Jay? He almost got hit too, you know," I joked, holding Mia off as she tried to apply medicine to my arm. I wanted to shower before treating the wound. "I’m fine, really. I’ve been in races way more dangerous than that," I added, realizing I probably shouldn’t have said that.

"We know Jay can handle it. That guy always finds a way out," Minu said with a grin.

"Yeah, I noticed." I sighed. "Hey, do you have any spare clothes? I seriously need a shower," I asked Mia.

"Oh no! I didn’t bring any extra. But I can ask June if he has some," Mia offered, but before she could get up, a shirt and joggers flew in my direction. I turned to see who had thrown them—Jay.

"June’s already in the bathroom," Jay said curtly before turning away to presumably take his own shower. My ears burned as I glanced down at his clothes. I hadn’t even asked for them! What was he thinking, lending me his clothes in front of everyone?

I'm trying to pull myself together. The only thing left is to punch my chest to stop it from pounding so hard. I can't even understand myself—was my heart racing because of exhaustion from the race, or was it because of him? I wanted to curse at myself as I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my hair in front of the mirror. Jay's shirt was obviously too big, as were his joggers. Thank God there was a drawstring to keep them from slipping down.

When I returned to the living room, I was surprised to see food already laid out. I wanted to leave, but it felt rude, especially since Dom had prepared everything. I figured I could handle it as long as I ignored Jay. I still didn't trust myself around him.

"Hey, check this out! Sabbath’s in the race now, and look! They're in a different location than you guys earlier," Minu said, pointing at the TV. My eyes shifted to the screen, and my chest tightened when I saw Wooin. I didn’t mean to upset them by running away. I just wanted them to understand me. I wasn’t doing this because I wanted to—I was only trying to help the Hummingbird. I didn’t want them to think I’d betrayed them, especially since Wooin played such a huge role in my life. He paid off all my family’s debts. He ended my suffering.

"That’s so unfair! Why isn't their challenge as hard as yours? In the mountains? Really?" Aria grumbled, clearly starting to get drunk.

Vinny appeared on the screen, and I immediately looked away. I turned my back on the TV, grabbed some fried chicken, and reached for a bottle of soju. As I poured myself a shot, I accidentally locked eyes with Jay—he was standing across from me, getting food. He was watching me. I quickly looked away.

"Hey, Demitra. Are those guys still bothering you? Especially Vinny? Just let me know, and we’ll handle it," Dom said, catching me off guard. I shook my head.

"You’re drunk. Stop drinking so much," Yuna scolded him.

"I forgot you know Sabbath, Demitra. Why do you think they keep approaching you? Maybe they’re messing with you because they know you're here with us," Mia chimed in.

"Maybe," I muttered absentmindedly, taking a shot of soju. I winced as the burn hit my throat. I wanted to forget, even just for today. I wanted the guilt to disappear. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to face them again after running away. I knew Vinny got into trouble because of the help he gave me.

I lost track of how many shots I took, but I wasn’t worried about drinking too much. I wasn’t the type to go wild when drunk—not like Dom. Sometimes, when I drink, I just laugh or stay quiet. I’m still aware of my surroundings, even if I feel a bit dizzy.

"We already know," Jay said quietly beside me. We were both sitting, watching his friends get drunk and sing loudly.

"I know," I smirked, glancing at him.

"You’re all too obvious. And besides, I know Gramps. He’s always been a chatterbox." I sighed, closing my eyes as the dizziness began to hit me harder.

Jay nodded slowly. "I know something that they don’t," he said seriously, making me pause. For a second, I thought I hadn’t heard him right, but I knew I had. He didn’t whisper it.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" I challenged, meeting his gaze.

He licked his lips, as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. My curiosity only grew stronger. I straightened up and looked at him directly. "Like what, Jay?" I asked, irritated. I knew Gramps wouldn't talk about my personal information, especially the things I tried so hard to avoid. So it seemed impossible that Jay could know.

Unless...

"I accidentally overheard Mr. Nam and the principal talking," he said, his eyes drifting to the middle of the room, watching Dom and the others goofing around. I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head. No way. Out of all people, why did Jay have to be the one to hear it? And why did it have to be Shelly’s boyfriend?

I clenched my fist. "Don't think about it. Not everything you hear is true," I lied, taking another swig of soju.

"Sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I glared at him. "I don't know, okay? If I had known your girlfriend went to Sunny High, especially you, I wouldn’t have enrolled there," I snapped, frustration boiling over. I didn’t even know why I was so mad. Maybe it was because I was angry at myself for being so stupid. "Don't worry, I’ll leave soon. I just don’t know when. I don’t want to see Shelly either."

He went quiet, and the air between us grew awkward. My thoughts were spiraling again, and I started rambling. I think I should stop drinking now.

"I'm talking about your relationship with Owen. Why are you bringing up Shelly?"

My jaw dropped at his words, and I glared at him. This jerk. He had to be lying. I stared at him hard, trying to figure out if he was bluffing, but I couldn’t read his expression. Slowly, I realized I had dug myself into a hole again. I slapped my forehead in frustration.

"I must be drunk. Just forget what I said," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. I couldn’t even look at him anymore. "I don’t have a problem with your girlfriend, don’t worry. I was talking about something else, not her. I’m probably just drunk." I pushed the soju bottle away. I almost thought I heard him laugh, but when I glanced at him, he was serious again.

"I have no relationship with that man. I just know him," I denied. "Whatever you heard from Gramps, he was just bluffing. The old man talks nonsense sometimes."

Jay didn’t respond, just let out a deep breath. He grabbed my bottle of soju and set it aside, as if he was determined to stop me from drinking any more.

"Stop drinking. Just go to sleep," he said with no expression on his face. Part of me wanted to smile because it seemed like he was worried about me, but the other part of me wanted to slap myself for even thinking that. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. He was right—I needed to sleep. The alcohol was making me drowsy.

"Jay..." I murmured with my eyes still closed. "Can I ask a favor?" I didn’t even know if I was dreaming, but I felt my body being lifted off the floor, like someone was carrying me. Maybe I was dreaming, or maybe death was finally taking me.

As usual, he didn’t answer. I furrowed my brows, keeping my eyes shut. "Can you stay away from me from now on? Please?" I whispered.

Still, he didn’t answer. Of course, that’s Jay. I never get a straight response from him. I felt myself sink into something soft, making me even sleepier.

"I can't..."

[the-froschamethyst4]

Bull Rider

𖤐Pairing: PBR! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, kissing/making out, language, children, married couple, nipple play, groping, P in V, reverse cowgirl,

𖤐Summary: You watch your husband John Price, a professional bull rider, but Price is a bit upset with himself because he didn't beat his own record and he let's Y/n help him with being a frustrated

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John Price a Professional Bull Rider walked down the long hallway saddle over his shoulder as he was heading to the ring. He loved his job of being a Professional Bull Rider bring home the money for him and his family.

Y/n sits in the bleachers waiting for John, Iris her year old daughter sits on her lap and her 4 year old son Beau sits next to her drinking from whatever soft drink she bought for him.

"Mama, when is daddy coming out?" Beau asks.

"Soon Beau, it's his turn," she says, patting his dirty blonde hair.

Y/n looks down at Iris who's face was covered in cheese from the nachos.

"Iris," Y/n groans and Iris just laughs as Y/n grabs some wet-wipes and cleaned off Iris's face the best she could.

"And there's John Price's family, his lovely wife Y/n Price, little Iris with nacho cheese all over her, poor mama Price, and Beau, a little spitting image of John Price," the announcer says.

"And speaking of John Price, here he comes now." The other announcer says.

John came into the ring and heads to the shoot, where he'll be riding a bull that has sent multiple bull riders into the hospital. The bull's name is Cash. A 4 ton weighing bull.

John was nervous, Cash was very intimidating bull and if he's in the hospital there is no telling if John will walk away with a broken bone or bones or without his life.

Y/n watches as he gets on the gate and looks down at the black bull. He gets on the back of Cash. He takes a deep breath and wraps the robe around his hand and takes some more deep breaths.

"You ready!?"

"Yeah!" John yells.

Y/n was nervous for Price. She wanted him safe. The buzzer goes off and Cash was released from the shoot, Price on his back and Cash trying to buck Price off, Price just needed to last around 8 seconds on Cash's back, Price's record on the back of a bull was 14 seconds, it was considered a world record.

Cash keeps bucking but has a good hold on Cash. With one final buck Price was knocked off, Cash then goes up and lands on his back and Price quickly rolls before Cash could land on him.

"Holy shit," Price cusses as the cowboys started to move Cash back to the shoot. Price leaned on his knees and started to catch his breath, Price looks at the clock and saw his time 11 seconds.

"Fuck," he cusses again, he wanted to do better.

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Price did end up winning he sits in the greenroom with a glass of whiskey in his hand, he had changed out of his gear and was now in jeans, a random red t-shirt, and black cowboy boots.

Y/n was coming down the hall with her kids behind her, she knocks on the door and opens it. Price sat alone in his greenroom.

"John? I thought you would be with the other guys celebrating?"

"I just wanna go home," John says, placing his glass on the little table next to the couch.

"Okay, come on," Y/n says, taking John's hand and they walked out of the backrooms.

John buckles his kids into their car seats, Y/n gets in the passenger seat and John started up the truck. One hand on the wheel and the other resting on Y/n's thigh like usual.

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John carried little Iris as Y/n held Beau, opening his bedroom door and gently laying him down on his bed, tucking him into bed. John came into the bedroom seeing Y/n kiss Beau's temple and telling him 'good night'.

Price held Y/n's hand as they walked to their bedroom together, Price was overwhelmed and stressed, he wishes he beat his own record, 11 seconds!? What kind of bullshit is that!?

Price changed into his pajamas, which was just sweatpants and no shirt, he fell on his back on his side of the bed. He looks at his phone as Y/n was doing her nightly routine.

"John, is everything okay?" Y/n asks, coming into the bedroom, moving the covers over her legs as she moves a bit closer to him.

"Yep," he says, not even looking at her.

"John, I know you, I've been with you for 7 years, I know when something is bothering you. Tell what's wrong." She asks.

"Fine," he turns his phone off and places it on his nightstand. "I wish I did better. I wish I was able to beat my own record. I...I feel like I let you down, I feel like I let the kids down, I didn't do that good tonight-"

"John, John, John, I understand but you didn't let anyone down, not me and not the kids, you did your best, it's not like...I was gonna leave you because you didn't beat 14 seconds, who cares? You have plenty and more opportunities to beat it, just the one time you didn't shouldn't matter," she says, cupping his face, making him look at her.

"Love-"

"Don't love me, I know what you are going to say, and I you're right, I won't understand because I don't do your job, but come on, Price, it's one time...don't let it get to you, I'll still be here for you, the kids will still be here."

She then kissed his lips, once she pulled away, John gave her a soft smile, his hand moving hair from her face, kissing her forehead and then her cheek, then kissing her neck.

"I want you," Price mumbles close to her ear. Price's hands then started moving up her shirt squeezing her breasts, pinching at her hardened nipples.

His lips were rough and dry, but he licks them getting them wet as he kisses her neck again, and then kissed her lips. He managed to take her shirt off tossing it somewhere in the bedroom and then pulled her shorts off next. She was just in her panties now.

Price puts her on her back as he leans over her, removing his sweatpants, he messes with his dick in his boxers, kissing her neck and then started kissing her lips.

He pushes his bulge against her wet panties.

"God you make me so fucking frustrated," he mumbles against her lips.

"Good," she teases.

Price pulls her panties off seeing her slick on her pussy. He puts two fingers against her slick and starts moving his fingers watching the sticky slick string between his fingers. He brings it to his mouth and starts licking his fingers clean.

He pulls his boxers off and lines himself at her entrance and slowly pushes into her, she moans but muffles them by covering her mouth. She didn't want to wake the kids up.

Price laid on his back hands on Y/n's waist pulling her to sit on top of him.

"Bounce, baby," he demands.

She tries to get use to his size and then placed her hands on his lower stomach, and slowly started to bounce, her breasts bouncing with every slight movement, Price smirking leaning his head back and his right arm behind his head, and left hands resting on her hip.

Y/n's head goes back as a few soft moans escape from her lips, she looks down at his bare chest, her nails slightly digging into his chest, he groans but loves the feeling.

She squeezes around his dick. He moans and then places his hands on her waist helping bounce a bit faster.

"Keep going, baby," he says.

She moves a bit faster now, but then starts moving up and then watching as Price dick spit out cum, she moves his dick to lie against his stomach, she then sits on his dick and starts slowly grinding against his dick.

She moans and he does too. She then could feel her high coming on, she starts grinding a bit faster, then with one more grind she felt herself start to cum. She sits up and watches as cum leak from her and land on his dick.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

----------

Price held Y/n against the bed as he starts pounding into her, Price has made her cum at least 3 different times, this was the last time, she ended up coming all of his dick.

Price smirks and looks down at her, kissing the back of her neck and pulling her up off the bed and letting her rest against his bare chest.

"Price, I'm all sticky and I stink."

"It's okay, baby, I'll start a bath for you."

Price left the bedroom and started to run a nice hot bath for her, grabbing a bath bomb and putting it into the bath, he plugs the tub drain and goes back into the bedroom and picks Y/n up off the bed and placed her into the hot bathtub.

Price sits behind her as she leans into his touch and Price starts washing Y/n's body.

Beau had woke up to the sound of laughter, he removes his covers and went to his parents bedroom, he peaks through the small crack of the door seeing Price mess with Y/n's damp hair.

Y/n had on one of Price's shirts and panties as Price was in a pair of boxers, Price kissed Y/n and Beau opened the door.

"Beau?" Price says.

"I can't sleep," Beau says.

"Come here, baby," Y/n says opening her arms and letting Beau come rest in her arms. She starts running her finger through his dirty blonde hair and kissed his temple.

"Mama, why is your hair wet?"

"Just took a bath baby."

"Oh, you smell good, mama," Beau nuzzles his head into her arms.

"Well, I'm glad," Price looks at his wife and son and smiled at the both of them.

"Let's get some rest," Price yawns.

"Right."

Y/n starts moving the covers over Beau's shoulder and holding him messing with his hair and kissing his forehead.