#smoke in every lane fic

[lucrativesoul]

Roadstop

summary: your car breaks down on a deserted road at midnight. you have no signal, it’s getting colder, and you are five miles away from help; you’re stranded. a stranger offers his help to you, and you find a way to pass the time.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

warnings: smut, oral (male recieving), bondage (very softcore), don’t trust strangers this much

a/n: i kind of hate this title and i also don’t love this one but I hope i made it work. going to immediately start one that i’m actually into. this one’s shorter than the last one, but they might all fall around the same word count from now on. again, i can’t stress how thankful i am for the love on ‘the assistant’ as well as my headcanon blurbs, 900+ notes on the fic and 300+ on the headcanons, you guys are too nice. i can’t wait to come back soon with the next fic! enjoy :3

You thought back for a brief second, clearing your head as best you could to gauge your current situation.

In the backseat of a tinted SUV, you were straddled over a thick set of thighs, that of which belonged to a man twice your build, who was bound at the wrists in front of him. The waistband of his jeans were dangerously low and his shirt was somewhere in the front seat. His breathing was shaky and he was looking at you with hooded eyelids, loving every moment of this situation.

What was the catalyst to this exact interaction? Let’s see…

–

Earlier

As badly as you wanted to scream, to cry, to blame everyone else but yourself, this was all on you, and you knew it. There were plenty of ways to avoid this situation.

Your car was toast. Literally. The steam was coming out in soft puffs, and you were thanking every deity up there that it was only steam and not smoke, because it was dead winter, too cold for even snow to fall, and you did not want to get out of your car. How can a car even overheat in 10 degree weather?

The road trip back home was close to three hours and you were nearing the second one when a light started flashing on your dashboard. Inclined to ignore it, but knowing the risks of doing so, you pulled over, hoping for a brief stop. 

The road was dark. It made you a little cautious to step out, but this wasn't a common place for people to pull over, but you were unsure if you could make it the next five miles to the rest stop. It was only a two lane road, trees on both sides of you. The worst, you decided, was a deer deciding to dash out and body slam you. You should move quick enough to avoid that.

Looking behind to make sure no one was suddenly driving by, you briskly opened your door and walked to the front of the car. Finding the latch and pulling it aside, you lifted the hood, and a puff of metallic smelling steam hit your face. You backed up, letting it clear, before going in again. Well, you observed, the engine is definitely still there.

Shutting it and shuffling back to your car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Should you call a tow service? You didn't know where you were. Should you call the police? They would probably tell you to call the non-emergency line and then tell you to call a tow service. Should you call your friend? She would probably call you stupid, then tell you to call a tow service. That one was the most comfortable, though.

It was, after all, her fault you were here. It’s easy enough to cast the blame on the friend that moved this far away that you had to plan out a whole weekend just to hang out. But, once again, it was on you for deciding to leave this late.

She answered after one ring. “Hey, I’m in trouble.”

“Of course you are. What happened now?” She didn’t sound incredibly concerned.

“I don’t know. I think my car’s overheating. I’m scared to keep driving it.”

She gasped. “It’s only been like… an hour and a half? You’re probably in the woods.”

“If darkness and trees means woods then yes, that’s precisely where I am.”

“You need to get a tow, or something.” Knew it. “Do you see mile markers?”

You leaned forward in your seat, straining to see something that isn’t there. “No, I can’t see. I don't remember passing any either. I’m a few miles away from a rest stop, but, I really don’t–”

Dial tone.

Pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, you wanted to scream even more now. “Fuck!” You shouted out to nobody. No service. You wasted your last few moments of contact, and now you had nothing.

You sat for a moment, stilling your beating heart and trying to think rationally. Walking was out of the question. You nearly froze just going to open the hood. You could wait for service to come back, probably in waves, you might lose a call again. It was the only choice. The call to 911 would be quick, and if you lost service, they would know where you are from pinging you, and if they couldn’t reach you again, they would come find you. It was the best you could hope for. 

Settling back into your seat, the last few wisps of orange light disappearing behind the trees, you were ready to wait. 

–

You dragged your hands up and down the man’s torso, watching his muscles constrict and hearing delicious whines pour from his lips. He threw his head back onto the seat behind him, unable to look away from your body for even a second, even to blink. You could see the way his jaw tensed and relaxed, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he obeyed you, and he didn’t say a word.

You knew he was staring at the way your body curved and dipped, the way your frame was visible as you had also taken your shirt off, left in only a bra and the jacket that he had put on over you. He was probably ready to cum untouched at just the idea of you wearing his jacket alone, nevermind with nothing on underneath. 

Your fingers teased at the waistband of his pants, flitting your fingertips back and forth over the button of his jeans. You could see the way his erection was pressing hard through them, twitching ever so often as you kept your eyes on him. You, yourself, were desperate to pull it out and put your mouth on it, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“It’s tempting,” You whispered into the space between you two. “I want to take it right now,” He strained again, both his hard cock and his upper body, his arms slightly tugging at the restraints. “But I need you to beg for it…” You palmed his dick hard, and his lips parted in a moan. The sound made you even wetter than you already were. His hips bucked upward, moving the both of you, but with one steady hand to the chest, he was still. 

You knew well enough that he could bust out of the restraints at any second, he was strong enough to do that and probably tie you up even more securely than you had tied him. But, the mere idea that he was sitting there, being a good boy for you and letting you have him as he was, well, that idea alone had you foaming at the mouth, wanting to take control of him.

This wasn’t the first time you were making someone sit still and be a good boy for you, but it was the first time that a man had you dizzy trying to enforce those rules in the first place.

“Tell me,” You spoke, a sultry look in your eyes, you leaned in just a tad to get in his face. “Do you need it?”

He sighed out as if he had been holding his breath. “Yes, please, I need it so bad…” He nearly tripped over his words trying to force them out, showing you how bad he needed you to touch him, to suck him off, to ride him. Yes, you needed it to, but you couldn’t give it to him without a little bit of teasing involved.

“Do you now…” Your hands wandered up his torso again, fingers gently wrapping around the base of his neck, now even squeezing, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. You peeled your hands off, tracing his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and settled your hands over his. “If you keep being good, you can be released and touch me.” You felt his muscles strain again. “Not yet, though.”

He swallowed with the implication. Moving your hips forward, you grinded down onto him, making him screw his eyes shut and groan. Your own heartbeat quickened at the action, and for your own sake as well, you were going to need to speed this up. 

You leaned forward once more, mouth next to his ear, lips ghosting around the shell. “You’ll be my good boy and let me suck it, won’t you?”

A shrill whine, then, “Yes, yes, I’ll be your good boy, I promise, please, you can suck it. Please,” His voice was cutting in and out between a whisper and its full depth, you could tell he was worked up, and while you loved the chase of it all, you couldn’t help but to give in and treat yourself, as well. 

Your hands fell to his jeans again, hovering over the button. You pressed a kiss into his jawline. “Good boy.”

–

Earlier

This was much more boring than you anticipated. You wanted to scroll through your phone so badly, but you knew you needed to conserve battery. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in your car, merely your overnight bag in the back with your clothes in it, your laptop buried at the bottom for work, and your water bottle which was almost empty now. You kept checking every 5 minutes for a service signal, watching as the percent in the corner slowly ticked down.

It was growing colder by the minute in your car, and you had a blanket over your lap trying to conserve what you could. You felt like you were trapped in the wild, stranded with no food, no communication, when realistically you were only a hair outside of the nearest civilization.

No one had driven by yet. It was odd for no one to be taking this road at this time, at least one or two people would be coming by, maybe even a freight truck, but so as your luck worked out, there was not a soul tonight. 

You were getting tired now, but your nerves were too lit up to allow yourself to fall asleep. Resting your head back against the car seat, staring out into darkness, your mind began to wander.

How many deer were out in these woods right now? Probably none, with the way your eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, you could spot one a mile away. It would be the only movement. What was your friend doing? Was she still trying to call you? Clearly she hadn’t called anyone for help, as it’s been a rough 30 minutes since you lost service, and the nearest city was just outside of where you sat. They would have gotten there in 15 max. Was it possible to freeze to death in just a few hours within the confines of your car, even though you were nowhere near that point yet?

Just then, your head shot forward as you spotted light behind you. Finally, a person! You straightened out and pulled the blanket off of you, debating if you should step out or not. That would definitely get their attention, but what if they were in the right lane and they hit you? Surely there would be no point in waiting for signal after that.

You didn’t even need to make a decision, as you put your hand on the door handle to step out into the brisk air, the headlights suddenly swerved and became aligned with you. They grew bigger and bigger, you were sure they were going to hit you, but they stopped.

You stared, scared, but knew this was your only shot at help. You stepped out.

The car that pulled up behind you stayed running, lights still shining, and you squinted to see past them. It looked like an SUV, much bigger than your own sedan, and could definitely do this drive without overheating no problem.

The driver’s side door opened, but you only saw the silhouette of it, still trying to block the headlights. You lifted your hand to your eyes to do so, and you saw a man get out. Ideally, for safety, you would have wanted a woman, but you couldn’t be picky when this was the first person you saw for almost an hour.

He walked over to you, and placed himself in front of the headlight so you could see him. Now, backlit, you could see the bulky build of a man, donned in a leather jacket with a fur collar, long hair falling down to his cheekbones, his breaths rolling off in slow puffs. He stood a good distance away from you, probably aware of how you might be feeling in this situation.

“You need help?” No shit, you wanted to answer, but couldn’t choke the words up. 

���Uh, yeah, I got stuck.” You turned briefly to look at the car. “It overheated. I lost signal to call for help.” 

The man nodded, walking around you and over to the hood of your car. He bent over and lifted it, messing around in there for a few seconds. You took one step closer to him, hugging yourself for warmth, now missing the inside of your car.

He shut it suddenly and walked back over. “You probably just have no antifreeze left. I don’t have any in my car, though. Do you know if you happen to have any?”

You stood staring at him for another second. “I’m gonna guess no, considering I’m not totally sure what you mean.” You could see him clearly now, standing in front of his headlights. His face was covered in dark shadows from his hair and the contours of his face, his deep brow casting darkness into his eyes, but you could still see they were blue. He had on a dark t-shirt, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination to picture the figure underneath. You met his eyes again.

He just nodded. “That’s alright. Not something you tend to prepare for.” He walked closer to you, but you stood your ground and let him approach you. “Want to come down the road with me to get some? There’s a 24/7 convenience just a few miles away. I can have you out of here within the hour.” You said nothing. You weren’t sure if you entirely wanted to do that, but you also didn’t want him to not come back at all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he stuck his hand out towards you. “Leon Kennedy. I work for the state. I’m on the way home from a detail.”

You slowly extended your own hand, telling him your name. His hand was warm. You didn’t want to let go. “Detail? Are you a cop?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I don’t want to leave you here. You should warm up.” You looked back at his car, still running, positive that the heat was blasting, and you gave in.

“Okay. But don’t think about trying anything. I can put up a hell of a fight, you know.” 

He laughed. “You have my word.”

You walked around to the passengers side and hopped in, hoisting yourself up into the surprisingly high cabin. You looked at the dash as he settled in, getting comfortable with the space. This was a much newer car than you were used to. 

His phone was connected to the bluetooth, music rumbling quietly out of the speakers. Deftones. Maybe I can trust him for now.

You subconsciously settled into the seat, the warmth enveloping you. The ride was much smoother than your own car, and you knew you weren’t going to stop the comparisons until this experience was over. You kept an eye to the left of you, still needing to be alert, you were in a stranger's car after all, even though you knew his name and job, that didn’t mean anything.

You saw him sneak a glance over at you, and you shot your eyes back down to the display on the dashboard. 

“You like them?” He hit a button on the steering wheel and turned the volume up a few notches. You could still hear him clearly. 

“Of course.” You let the silence hang for a second. Testing the waters, “If it was country, I might have had to pull a tuck and roll.”

He barked another laugh. At least he wasn’t stoic. “You’re lucky you didn’t catch me on a Wednesday, then.” You giggled. After saying nothing else, he continued. “What brought you to this position anyways?”

You sighed. “One of my good friends lives out here, about an hour away or so. I was on my way home. I know I shouldn’t have left this late, but in my defense, I didn;t know my car was going to overheat, so…” 

He hummed. “That’s not your fault. It happens. Can’t prepare for those things, again.”

You looked out the window to the pitch black nothingness as you rode past. You looked back over at him, he had his right forearm on the console while his left hand steered. “You seemed too prepared to stop, though. What if I killed you?”

His mouth quirked, and you couldn’t help but repeat it. “I could handle it if you tried to.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I could have surprised you. I’m stronger than I look. Men love to doubt the ones that are smaller than them.”

The smile on his face didn’t falter. “And what are you capable of against a man like me, then?” 

“I don’t think you want to find out. I’m dominating, you know.” Wait… what? You truly didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you couldn’t suck the words back up. You just furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself, and blamed the lack of sleep, the cold, your aggravation, whatever you could. Regardless of the words you couldn’t take back, Leon didn’t stop smiling. He turned his head a degree in your direction, and you could still see him out of your peripheral. 

A few minutes later, the convenience came into view and he pulled into the lot. You squinted at the bright lights of the parking lot. 

“Hang tight, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You only nodded, watching him stalk away into the building. You decided, seeing his full body in the lights, if you had met him under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t peg him as the helpful type of guy. His gait was strong, like it said Don’t fuck with me, or else. It almost made you giddy, knowing that you were the one being helped when he wouldn’t have otherwise. Like, in a romance book, when the bad boy doesn’t like anyone, but likes you. 

It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had thought it would be. Maybe he was lightening up his personality so he wouldn’t scare you on purpose. If he really was just a helpful guy, the last thing he would want is to scare a young girl in the middle of nowhere at midnight. 

You were getting comfortable in the seat now, the heat wrapping around you, making you dread having to go back out into your cold car. You sighed even harder when you remembered that you still had a long ride to go before you could even go to bed.

Leon walked out of the store and back to the car, bottle of antifreeze in hand, and you tensed up when the cold air hit your skin as he opened the door.

He watched you as he lowered himself into the seat. “I didn’t mean it literally. You could have moved.” 

You shrugged with a smile as he closed the door again. “I didn’t need to.”

After a few minutes of chatting and listening to music, you arrived back at your car after needing to loop around to get back onto the right side of the road. You sighed and hit your head back against the seat of the car.

“What’s the sigh for? You get to go now.” Leon unblocked his seatbelt and took the bottle from where he left it on the console.

“Yeah, but it’s cold. I don’t want to get out.”

Leon grinned softly. “So don’t. I’ll be right back.” 

You sat and soaked up the heat while he went back over to your car, popped the hood, and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. You could only wonder how cold he must have been right now. Probably not very, maybe only his hands and neck, that jacket looks warm enough. You were stupid to only put a zip up on.

You looked down at your lap, then your gaze wandered to the interior of the car. It was very clean here. Leon did seem like the type to want to take care of his vehicle, and you were afraid to make any sort of move in case you put dirt on anything.

The backseat was empty, not even an extra piece of clothing (which there was plenty of in your own backseat), and you wondered how it was even possible for someone to be this neat.

You looked back through the windshield to see that Leon was still working in your hood. Your eyes fell lower to the glove compartment.

Realistically, this wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do right now, since you didn’t know Leon, and you could pass it off by wanting to assure yourself that you were safe, but at the same time, you felt guilty even thinking about it, since Leon had been nothing but nice to you so far. He trusted you enough to leave you alone in his pristine car while he helped you out.

That alone made you shift your gaze back up, pushed the thought of snooping down, and settled in to see Leon walking back to his car.

“Alright, you should be all set now. Hopefully it doesn’t happen again for another long while.” He shut the door next to him, and you gazed out at your car, making no moves. 

“How much?” You rolled your head over to look at him.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brow. 

“The antifreeze. How much was it?”

He breathed out a laugh, not moving much. “I don’t want your money.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t need to do this for me, this is the least I could do for your help.”

Leon simply looked at you. “I stopped because I wanted to help. I don’t want your money.”

You stared at him. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile was gracing his features. He was lit up from the light of his display screen, still softly playing Deftones. You could see the texture of his face, his lips, his hair. He was unmoving under the scrutiny of your gaze; yet so were you. 

“I can put up a fight. I’ll make you take it.”

His smile grew. “So the legend goes, as you’ve told me.” He moved his right arm to come back and rest on the console in between you two. “I’m not going to accept it, though.”

“So, what? Am I gonna have to force you to take it? Cause I’m not leaving until you do.” You settled right back into the seat. Leon kept smiling at you. “I’m defiant. And I’ll get my way. If I have to slap you around to take it.” Leon hummed and quirked an eyebrow at your words. It only added fuel to your confidence fire. “Even if I have to tie you down to prevent you from fighting.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, showing you meant business, but he remained still. “Is that so?” You nodded. You saw him tighten his grip around the steering wheel, but the action didn’t frighten you. You could hear in his tone that he was mostly relaxed. You almost felt bad for being like this– it was late at night and he, too, was on his way home, but you simply couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.

“Open that.” His voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, but his voice deep. You met his eyes to see where he was looking, which was in the direction of the glove compartment. See, you told yourself, good karma can aid curiosity. You looked at it and hesitated a moment, trying to scan your brain as quickly as possible to see if this would be a trick. After a few seconds, when you thought of nothing, you reached over.

Tumbling forward as soon as you swung the compartment open was a small black bag, maybe about the size of a water bottle. It stopped on the door itself, and you made no move to grab it. You simply looked over at Leon.

He was watching you intensely, his smile had disappeared, but his look was not stern or angry. It made your stomach twist with… something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell. You slowly swung your gaze back over to it.

“I hope those weren’t empty threats you were throwing at me.” You kept your eyes on the bag, but the pieces started falling in place around you. In a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear, Leon said, “Can’t you show me what you are capable of?”

Ice and fire ran through your veins simultaneously as you reached out to grab the bag, noticing upon touching it that it was smooth, silky. Holding it in your hands, you rotated it to find the opening. You could feel Leon staring at you. 

Finding the opening and flipping it downwards, you held onto the bag as you dumped the contents into your hands. A tightly wound bundle of black rope fell out.

You couldn’t form words for a minute, struggling to find air in your lungs. The rope was just as soft as the bag was, and you knew exactly why, exactly what the use intended for this was. You turned your head slowly to look over at Leon again. His head had rolled back to rest on the back of the car seat, but his gaze never left yours.

You found the energy to speak. “You come prepared for these types of situations?”

A slow smile blossomed on his features again. “I don’t usually need it. I guess, I never find myself wanting to use it.” He turned his head, looking back at the dash now, almost embarrassed at his words. A smirk was fighting its way through on your features. He licked his lips, then turned back to you. “I think now… maybe I do.”

You breathed a laugh, and turned the bundle over in your hands. “How am I going to hold up to my word if you want to use this on me?”

Leon leaned forward just a tad, looking you deep in the eyes. The blue light coming off of the digital display screen lit up his face, and though color was distorted, his cheeks had more hue to them. 

“I don’t want to tie you up…” You tilted your head up at the sudden realization. You held eye contact. 

“A big man like you? I didn’t imagine you’d be wanting me to do that to you…” You spoke slowly, not trying to give the impression that you were against the idea. Because, truly, you weren’t, at all. The idea of having him bound for you made your lungs cut the air supply short and had your knees weak. The power you felt sitting in this seat was immeasurable, hearing that the man who was twice your size wanted you to remove his sense of control, well, it had you thrumming with anticipation.

Leon huffed a laugh. He looked down, obviously slightly ashamed at having admitted this. “Well, you haven’t had much time to get to know me.”

You shifted in your seat, turning to him, bending slightly to get him to look into your eyes again. “So tell me, then. I have the time to listen.” 

He attempted a shrug, and leaned back at the same time so you could see his face clearer now. Some of his hair was covering his eyes, but you left it, though you did think about moving it for him. “I’m 27, I used to be a cop, still affiliated though, I do some late night stuff at the station…” He looked over. “I did just want to help you. Even if there was no one in the car, I probably would have stopped anyway.” You nodded, listening to every word. “I…” He trailed off, looking for the words to say. “I don’t… do much else. I’m not that interesting.”

“You have no girlfriend or wife?” You whispered, and though you knew, hoped, the answer would be no, you wanted to know why he thought the answer was no.

He shook his head, as predicted. “I don’t seem to have luck.” He laughed lowly, almost in a self-deprecating manor.

“Well, I hope this isn’t always how you try to pick up women, it’s kind of scary, you know.” You laughed, and he smiled with you.

“I never particularly bothered to go looking. I just figured they would come around.”

“You can’t always bet on fate like that, it might not get you anywhere.” You shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow. “It did tonight, though.”

You nodded, seeing the irony in the night. After a second of silence, you slightly shifted your position again. “So, now what? A man like you has me in your car, holding rope, that you already had in here, by the way, and you’re telling me you want me to use it to show you what I’m capable of.”

He shrugged and leaned back, breaking eye contact for a moment. A small smile played on his lips. “Well…” He sighed. “I think it will keep you warmer than you would be in your car.”

The two of you migrated to the backseat without another word. Something shifted in the air, some silent agreement had settled in between you two, and the moment the doors shut behind you, mouths on one another, heat rising, hands slithering in between, leaving no inch of skin left untouched. Leon was quick to snake his warm hands up your shirt and hike it over your head, but you let him, followed quickly by his own. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss became sloppy, greedy, you would have succumbed to it then and there if there wasn’t a promise to uphold.

You raked your hand through his hair, soft as silk, and gripped at the base of his head, making him moan into the kiss. The hand he placed on your waist gripped the flesh, and with one swift movement, you swung your leg over his to straddle him. It was already like he was at your mercy before you even took anything away from him, and it only made him look all the more desperate for you.

The kiss broke, and for a second the two of you were just staring at each other. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, which you had discovered with your hands before even seeing it, that it was incredibly toned, and you almost didn’t even want to stop touching him. HIs hands rested on your hips, holding you in place on top of him, eyes full of lust.

He shook his head slowly, forming a thought. “Are you sure you weren’t in charge of fate to make me find you tonight?”

You grinned, running your hands up his torso, you just couldn’t stop yourself. “If I was, don’t you think I would have made it a little more convenient for us?”

He sighed at your touch, head rolling backwards, closing his eyes. After a low hum of satisfaction, he replied. “I guess so… What about fate the second time around?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the texture underneath your palms, all of the skin and bone and muscle. You pushed yourself down into his lap, already feeling his hardening dick through his jeans, making him groan louder, and you sigh in relief.

“We haven’t even gotten started and you are already thinking of round two…” You leaned in, teasing a breath along his neck, then gently licking on his jawline. The skin of your stomach felt the heat that he was producing, and you pressed your bodies together, the contact feeling like bliss.

“I already know I’ll need you again.” He said in a whisper, and the sheer intensity that it caused within you made you lean in and bite the tender skin under his jaw, and he moaned, gripping your waist even tighter.

Your hands kept running along his skin, desperate to get even more contact between you two. Your mind was getting foggy with desire, needing to be as close to Leon as possible, as much as the small space in his backseat would allow. His fingers were starting to dip below the waistline of your pants, and while you almost let him slide them past, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled it out, remembering the reason you were in the backseat in the first place.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…” You mumbled into his ear, where you were still pressed up against him. You heard him sigh, as well as felt it, and finally pushed yourself off of him.

He looked up at you from under his half-lidded eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, then. I’ll do anything.” His voice was breathy and low, and his hands came down to rest on the top of your thigh. You sat up as straight as you could, feeling all of the control get handed over to you in that one second. Involuntarily, a chill ran through your body. Cold air had hit your heated skin as you parted, as well as the added sensations that Leon was contributing to. He pushed himself up, leaned past you to the front seat, one hand steadying you on your lower back. When he fell back, he put the shoulders of his jacket over you.

He sighed as he leaned back, examining your frame as it rested over him, straightening your posture as the warmth fell around you. “Looks better on you anyway…” 

You stared at him for another moment before your brain kicked into action. “Hold your hands out,” You whispered, and he obeyed. You reached behind you and grabbed the bundle of rope. “You’ll behave if I tie you up like this?” 

“Yes…” He breathed out, watching your hands as they wrapped and knotted the rope around his wrists, not too tight, but he couldn’t slip out of it too easily. You felt a surge of confidence at the mere premonition of you tying up a huge, muscled man, submitting to your dominance. You felt heat pool in between your legs as his head fell back, his chest flexed, and the feeling of his hard cock poking you through his pants. You were suddenly glad your car gave out on you on this random night.

This brings you to your current position. Everything playing an equal hand in getting this man in his own backseat underneath you, staring up with sinful eyes. You weren’t sure what to do first, you wanted to do everything to this man, and let him do everything to you. 

He had already professed his need for you to take him in your mouth, and you were itching to keep teasing him, but as a reward for not leaving you stranded, you were going to play nice with him.

HIs breathing was ragged and his eyes were locked on you, not daring to look away as your hands snaked closer and closer to the button on his jeans. Your fingers flitted over the tent in his pants, the sensation barely registering with him, and he bucked his hips up, but you pressed them back down by his hips. 

“Patience… patience baby…” You murmured, not looking up from where your hands were dancing around letting him loose. He whined, and the sound traveled straight to your core, making you all the more desperate. As a second reward for obeying your command, you pressed your palm fully into his hardened cock, and he groaned and threw his head back. You smirked in response, now needing the skin on skin contact. 

Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and he lifted his hips when you pulled down his waistband of both his jeans and underwear. His erection sprang out, slapping his toned stomach, and you felt saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth, slick gathering in between your legs, and Leon was almost shaking with anticipation.

You wrapped a delicate hand around his dick and he whined again, his chest shuddering with shallow breaths, sighing out profanities at the contact. He was so warm and hard in your hand, and even just the ginger strokes you were delivering had him crumbling under you.

The other hand that wasn't wrapped around him came up to brace yourself on his chest, and his skin matched the temperature of his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking profusely, and you brought your thumb up to press through it and spread it, which elicited another whimper from within him. The friction was dry, and you were sure it didn't feel the best for Leon, but there were no signs of pain in his expression, and if you kept this up long enough, he might cum from this alone. 

He was of average length, but you were never one to complain, especially not in a situation like this, and it was a benefit when the attempt to deepthroat him came along, knowing it would make it easier. You couldn’t wait any longer, and even though watching him writhe under you was more pleasure than you expected, you needed more.

You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You made a brief note of how hot it was in the car now, probably all from him, and though it was completely dark outside, you were sure the windows were foggy. He sighed at your lips on his skin. 

“Thank you for being so good to me,” You spoke softly to him, and you lifted your head to press your lips together, which he hungrily accepted. Your body fell forward slightly, your hand still balancing on his hard chest, and you could feel his arms in between the both of you, but he was not protesting. 

You pulled away, but hovered over his face and pressed your foreheads together. He whispered, “Need you so bad…” heavily breathing onto your lips. You grinned, seeing he was quickly reaching the brink of his patience. 

“I got you baby,” Another quick kiss, but you pulled away before he could deepen it. “You’re being a good boy for me.” He quietly moaned at the praise, and let you remove yourself from on top of him. You hopped off his lap and sunk to your knees in between his legs, looking up once last time to see his pretty face before ducking your head, and licking a thick stripe up the length of his cock. 

His groan was louder than it had been before, and you felt his whole body shudder with his breaths. The saliva that had been gathering in your mouth coated him easily, and when your tongue met the tip, with a swipe to collect the precum (which resulted in another sharp whine), you let all of your spit pour over your lips and leak down the sides, which you hastily swept up with your hand, and continued to pump his dick with. 

Every breath that he released was paired with some sort of noise, whether it be a groan, a whine, a whimper, anything that you were doing to him right now was causing him to quickly become unwound, and just seeing him fall apart under your hands was causing your strokes to become harder, quicker, and you stopped refusing him to buck his hips in your hand because you loved seeing how desperate he was becoming. You could see the veins in his forearms and biceps, the flexing of his arms against the rope around his wrists, and it made you weaker to know he was the only person keeping him within those restraints, and he could flip the power dynamic at any moment if he wanted to. But, he didn’t, and he let himself be dominated.

With another lick from base to tip, your lips closed over his head, our tongue dipped and swirled around the soft skin, the tangy salt of his precum coating your tastebuds, and at once, you took his entirety into your mouth. A rough gasp came from Leon as you swallowed him whole, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling every ridge and bump. Your hand continued to work below where you could reach, giving gentle squeezes, and your other hand occasionally worked his balls, causing him to throw his head back every few seconds.

You were reveling in his taste at this moment, every bead of precum that spurted out of his tip was lapped up instantly, mixing in with your spit as you took him in your mouth, your tongue studying and memorizing his shape and size. You sucked him down like it was your last moment to ever be with him, hoping you would be able to find yourself in this position with him again. 

“Fuck… fuck, you feel so good…” Leon couldn’t contain the words spilling out of his mouth, he was losing sanity it seemed with every movement you made with your tongue, every stroke your hand delivered, and every time you opened your throat to shove him as far back as you could. He would whimper every time you stifled a gag at trying to deepthroat his length, loving the way you worked past pain just to have more of him. 

You could feel so much heat and wetness within yourself, and as much as you wanted to relieve your own pressure, you knew you wouldn't be done with Leon after you made him cum.

After another hit to the back of the throat with his tip, you heard him whine out, “I’m so… I’m so close, fuck–” paired with more gasps and whimpers. His fists were balled up so tight, the rope was straining against his flexing, and his mouth hung open as he watched you take him all. 

Your hand that wasn’t on his cock was gripping his thick thigh, feeling it twitch underneath your palm. You gripped it tighter, deciding against an urge to want to edge him, not able to fight your own need to taste him.��

After another lick, you released him from your mouth and resorted to stroking him so you could talk and breathe for a moment. “How close are you, baby?” Your breathing was heavy, and you could feel the spit hanging off your lips, still connected in thin strings to his tip.

He gasped again at the feeling of cool air touching his wet dick. “So… so close,” He bucked his hips again into your hands and you let him, liking watching him chase his own release.

“Where do you want it, huh? I’ll let you decide.” You kept working his dick while he tried his hardest to contain himself.

He groaned, clearly struggling to speak through all of the sensations. “I… I, oh, god, anywhere…” His head was back against the seat again, and this time it seemed to stay there while you kept touching him. Underneath his arms, you could see his torso tensing and relaxing with the way his whole body was pulsing, and even through the darkness you could tell he was toned, insanely so, you could see the rigid outlines of ab muscles where his arms weren’t blocking them. Sharp lines contoured his hips where they dipped into his pelvis, akin to a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that you currently had in your hands, dripping with precum and saliva. You couldn’t take it. You needed to see him blissed out.

You moved your hand back down to the base and planted your flat tongue on the underside of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. “Come on, cum for me, I’ll let you…” With quick movements and the occasional lick to his tip, you brought him closer and closer to his release, and you could see it written all over his face whenever he put his head back up to look down at you. His brows were furrowed, his mouth open, and you could see the glint on his face from sweat. 

“Shit, oh, fuck, I–I’m coming,--” Leon rasped out as much as he could through his thick breaths, body convulsing the second he hit the threshold of his release. You felt it the same time you saw it, his dick throbbed under your palm and a rope of hot white cum spurted upward, landing on his stomach, some on his hands, and yours. You hastily pressed your mouth to the tip, feeling it coat your tongue, the roof of your mouth, drip to the back of your throat. You kept your tongue pressed to the underside of the head, feeling that, too, pulse with his orgasm. He was groaning in tandem with this happening, and you lapped up everything he had to offer, the salty, hot, viscous liquid sitting heavy in your mouth. You choked back a gag with the swallow, but it made it down, and you cleaned your hand, his twitching dick, and wherever it landed on him by licking it up. He whimpered at the feeling of your tongue on his hands.

“You looked so good for me,” You whispered into the air as you slowly rose from your position, and hovered over him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me like this…” You looked down at him, spent, panting, eyes lazily making eye contact with you, but you could see so much more in his gaze. 

A second passed before either of you spoke again. Without moving too far, you brought a hand down to untie the rope, and his hands came to rest over your thigh once they were free. The rope lay discarded on the floor.

“We still have the rest of the night… don’t we?” Your stomach turned at his implication, he still wanted you, and he was still ready to keep going. Your hand came up to gently touch the side of his neck, thumb tracing the edge of his jawline.

“We have however long you want. I’m not done with you.” 

He grinned, his eyes opened a little further this time, and his hands left your thighs to hold your face as he kissed you deeply, blissfully ignoring your phone incessantly ringing, abandoned in the front seat.

[khaylin27]

i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: logan howlett x grey reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: y/n grey believed that she could 'change' logan from loving her sister, jean.

warnings: unhealthy relationship, one-sided love, death, mentions of sex

author's note: i know this was supposed to be a dick grayson x reader fic but IM OBSESSED with hugh jackman/logan howlett rn 😭

The smoke cloud bills out his mouth

Like a freight train through a small town

The jokes that he told across the bar

Were revolting and far too loud

After a long week of teaching students, the teachers decided to go to a local bar for drinks. Logan, your boyfriend, was sitting next to you as he smoked bills out of his mouth like a freight train through a small town. You hated that he smoked so much, even at the school.

"I'm going to get us some refills on our drinks," Logan nods and you leave Logan to get another round of drinks for your friends.

As you're waiting for the bartender to get your drinks, you watch Logan telling loud jokes to Jean across the bar. It hurt seeing Jean, your sister, talking to your boyfriend knowing he still had feelings for her. Jean already had Scott so why couldn't she be content with him.

Once the bartender is done making your drinks, you head back to Logan and give him his drink. "Thank you Y/N." Logan takes his drink and continues to talk to Jean. You noticed every time Logan was near Jean, he would call you by your name instead of the regular pet names he had for you.

You didn't want to third wheel in their conversation, "I'm going to be with Scott and Ororo." Logan just ignores you, too deep into the conversation with Jean. You press a small kiss to his cheek before heading to Scott and Ororo.

They shake their heads sayin', "God, help her"

When I tell 'em he's my man

But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger

I can fix him, no, really, I can

And only I can

"What a surprise, you've come to visit us Dimples," Scott says sarcastically while throwing darts at the dart board. "I'm surprised you've come over here. You're usually with the love of your life, Logan."

Ororo notices that you aren't feeling Scott's jokes right now, "Scott stop being a douche bag."

Scott stops playing with the darts and looks at the situation. You were here with them instead of being with your boyfriend. Jean was with your boyfriend instead of being with Scott.

"How long have they been talking?" Scott asks jealously.

You turn around and still see Jean and Logan talking. "For an hour I'm guessing."

"Why do you stay with him Y/N? He obviously still has feelings for Jean." Scott shakes his head at the sight he's seeing.

"The same reason you're staying with Jean, Scott. She loves him as much as you love Jean. That's Y/N's man." Ororo explains to Scott.

Scott looks at you disappointed, "God, help you Y/N."

"It's okay Scott." You smile softly. "I can fix him."

"You've been saying that for a while now Y/N," Scott emphasizes. "At one point you should give up."

"No really, I can." Logan walks right next to you and smiles at you. "And only I can." You smile back at Logan before you guys decide to head home.

The dopamine races through his brain

On a six-lane Texas highway

His hands so calloused from his pistol

Softly traces hearts on my face

Instead of taking the quick route back to the school, Logan decides to take you through the back ways. You always enjoyed taking the back ways because it gave you guys time to talk about anything.

"What were you and Jean talking about?" You ask curious about their long conversation.

Logan glances at you and then back at the road. "Nothing you should be worried about Sweets." He grins at you before adding on. "Just the students and the team. That's it."

You weren't convinced by his response, you knew Logan. When he had the opportunity to talk to Jean by herself he wouldn't waste it on talking about the students or the team."

Logan can see that you weren't convinced by his answer. His response to your question was a lie. He wasn't talking to Jean about the students or the team, they were talking about him and Jean being together. They were both in healthy relationships but Logan and Jean wanted each other.

Once Logan parks his Mustang in the garage, his calloused hands softly trace hearts on your face. "You know I love you Y/N right? And there's nothing else Jean and I talked about at the bar."

And I could see it from a mile away

A perfect case for my certain skill set

You could see it from a mile away that Logan was still lying. Logan was down bad for Jean even if he denies it, you knew.

Choosing to ignore the red flags, you agree with what Logan tells you. "I know you love me, Lo." You smile softly. "It's just Scott being an older brother and messing with me."

"What did he say?" Logan asked.

You heavily sigh, "He was just asking me why I'm still with you even though you still have feelings for my sister."

"He should focus on his own relationship instead of ours." Logan exclaims.

"And that's what I told him. You're my man and I love you no matter what." You smile at him and kiss him one last time before going into the school to go to sleep.

They shake their heads sayin', "God, help her"

When I tell 'em he's my man

But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger

I can fix him, no, really, I can

And only I can

Little did you know, your relationship with Logan would come crumbling down. Jean sacrificed herself to buy the others time to escape. Everyone was saddened by the death of Jean, but Logan was impacted really hard.

When Jean passed, Logan pushed you away while he was still pretending to be okay. He would do anything to avoid you. He moved his stuff back into his room, changed classrooms, and avoided going on missions with you.

One night you were sitting on the couch, eating ice cream to cope with not only the loss of your sister but your lover slipping away from you as well. You usually sit in the living room by yourself when you tuck all the students to sleep. That was something Jean used to do for the students.

Too lost in sadness that you didn't even notice Rogue enter the living room. "Y/N." Rogue says softly.

You wipe the tears that were falling down your face and answer Rogue. "Rogue! Why are you still awake?"

"I couldn't sleep." That was something you were used too as well since Logan distanced himself. "Could I stay with you and eat ice cream?"

"Yeah," you smile softly. "Go get a spoon and we'll share."

Once Rogue gets herself a spoon, you put the ice cream tub in the middle to share. While sharing, you ask Rogue how Logan is doing. You knew the relationship Rogue had with Logan was a father-and-daughter relationship. You also had a similar mother and daughter relationship with her as well.

"He's doing the best he can. He's been taking over classes for Scott while he's grieving." Rogue continues eating the ice cream while you stay silent. "Are you two okay? Why don't you talk to him or use your powers? I'm worried about my parents." Rogue jokingly adds.

Your powers were to able to hypnotize other people but you never wanted to use them unless you had to. "We're doing okay Ro." You wrap your arms around her. "Your parents are okay. We just need time to grieve that's all."

She shakes her head at your response. Rogue knew how much of a bad liar you were. "God, I wish I could take your pain away. I can take powers but not pain. You lost your sister and now Logan too."

"Hey, I'm not losing Logan." You try to convince not only her but yourself as well. "I can fix him." Rogue gives you a questionable look. "No, really, I can."

"And only I can."

Good boy, that's right,

come close

I'll show you Heaven if

you'll be an angel, all night

It's been two years after Jean's death, and your relationship with Logan had gotten better until Jean came back from the dead. She killed Scott and then made out with your boyfriend in the lab before almost killing him. Then she killed Professor Xavier and teamed up with Magneto to stop the anti-mutant vaccine.

You were currently on the island where the vaccine was being held. Everyone was evacuating as Jean, not being herself, was about to attack.

"Logan you need to stop her." You yell at him due to the loud surroundings.

"I can't." He pauses before saying the truth. "I love her. I love her more than I ever known."

Tears were falling from your eyes as Logan told you his true feelings. "I know." You walk to him and give him a hug. While hugging him, you use your control powers to command him to do what needs to be done.

Logan is in a hypnosis state while he kills Jean to save everyone. Once he's out of the hypnosis state, Logan screams in anger when he realizes he killed Jean.

"You tricked me Y/N!" He goes to you and starts shouting at you. "You made me kill her!"

You smile sadly before touching him once again, you hypnotize him once again to make him calm down and forget about Jean's death.

Once you're home, you cuddle with Logan to comfort him. "Good boy, that's right." You smile and comb Logan's fluffy hair. "I'll show you Heaven if you'll be an angel, all night."

Logan smiles before you two make out and have passionate sex.

Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

No, really, I can.

They shook their heads sayin', "God, help her"

When I told 'em he's my man (I told 'em he's my man)

But your good Lord didn't need to lift a finger

I can fix him, no, really, I can (No, really, I can)

Woah, maybe I can't

A couple months after Jean's actual death and you hypnotizing him into thinking he didn't kill her, he started having dreams of her. The dreams were vivid memories of him killing Jean. He didn't believe it at first so he asked everyone at the school. "You need to ask Y/N, she'll know the answer," Ororo tells Logan.

Logan asked you one day about what actually happened to Jean and you couldn't keep up with hypnotizing him. Using your powers daily took a toll on your physical health and you told Logan the truth.

When Logan knew the full truth, he left. He couldn't be around someone who had been hypnotizing him for months about something he did. Once Logan left, Ororo went to your room to check how you were doing. You were sulking.

"I told you it would end badly," Ororo tells her. She enters your room and sits right next to you.

"He's my man. I thought I could fix him," You smile sadly before coughing hard. Ororo gets your meds from your drawer and gives them to you with a glass of water.

"Maybe, I can't"

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

[gaypirate420]

And if you die, I wanna die with you. // Silco

Silco x male!reader

Prompt: “Get. Up,” Villain said. “You’ve suffered bigger wounds. And if you don’t get up, I’ll destroy anything that’s left of this world.” Villain took a breath. “Please,” they said. “Please get up. Please don’t die on me.”

With the smoke and fading flames Silco thought of how much of an idiot he had been.

Blinded by his ideals and anger years ago, he let you go. The only one who willingly stayed by his side and loved, cared and would take a bullet for him.

Silco pushed you away.

His people where hostile towards you and he never stop them. Every encounter with him ended in screams.

And now, his karma.

In the little part of the Lanes that you still ruled over. Your house was attacked by enforcers and in typical Zaun fashion, no one helped you, not even your own.

Silco looked at your damaged body, exhausted of defending what was left of your home and dignity.

He walked towards you.

Your eyes looked at him, everything sounded muffled, your vision blurry but you could recognize him in the darkest of alleys.

Your tired body tried to stand up, but everything hurts. The blood loss was starting to kick in. You groaned and fell into the ground again.

You see his boots infront of you.

"Get. Up." Silco spat, you meet eyes with him.

Why is he here? To humiliate you on your last breath?

To remind you of what could have been?

Another pathetic attempt. You fell, the whimpers stopped, giving up and let go was the only thing in your mind.

“You’ve suffered bigger wounds. And if you don’t get up, I’ll destroy anything that’s left of this world.” He spoke bitter, he took a breath, he could feel the knot forming on his throat.

"Please." Silco kneeled down. Feeling his hand on your waist, he moved you. Your eyes meet the contaminated sky of Zaun.

His gloved hand stroke your cheek.

"Please get up. Please don't die on me." He whispered, you could only look at him.

You coughed and gasped for air.

"Silco." You called before coughing again.

"Fuck off." You said between coughs, The Drug Lord shakes his head.

"I know you hate me, but I'm deeply sorry for everything I've done to you. Please don't give up. Please. I cannot live without you, my love." Silco spoke with sincerity, from the bottom of his hearth.

One last try. You tried to get up.

Silco grabbed your arm and putting over his shoulder, you groaned but at least your on your feet again.

You meet eyes with him.

"I don't—hate you, Silco. I know I should— but I can't." You mumbled and started walking, every step hurts.

"I still love you, y'know? I don't think I ever stopped." You spoke softly with a following melancholic sigh.

"Neither did I." He whispered, you loose your balance but Silco is quick to catch you.

"I don't want to die, Silco." You whispered a tear rolling down your cheek.

"You're going to be alright, my dear." He whispered and carefully carried you bridal style, lifting you easily.

"For a stick bug, you're quite strong huh?" You said with a smirk , Silco let's out a soft chuckle, his eyes fall onto yours and he offers a small smile which you return before closing your eyes.

You'll be fine.

--------------------------

A/N: A Silco fic??? On Gaypirate's blog??? In 2023????

[reverieblondie]

Neighbors

Chapter 1: Spider-Catcher

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: None for this chapter ;) but be warned this series will be SMUTTY!

Summary: Moving to a new city could be challenging for anyone. Your new home is taking a lot of getting used too. Maybe you can make a friend, preferably someone who is okay with catching spiders...

A/N: Okay...I know this isn't Miguel content...but we are just going to pretend it's 2014 so I can have my moment with tasm!peter. This story was originally for Peter B. but then I watched The amazing Spider-Man and emotions took over. This will be a series I will be writing so please look for updates. Also I have a Miguel series in my drafts and a small dark fic for him. Plus I am also working on Gabriel O'Hara fic as well so hope you will keep your eyes out for those. Please comment if you want to be on my tagging list! And request are open!

Word Count: 1,787

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 1: Spider-catcher 

“Hey on your left!” 

A man on a bike rushes past you while you are walking. Hands filled with overflowing grocery bags, you had not seen that you had wandered into the bike lane. Jumping out of the way you narrowly avoid getting mowed down by the angry cyclist. 

“Mororon!” the man yells back at you

“I'm sorry!” escapes your lips as you shout out to the man who is long zipped by “dick…” you mudder under your breath. Sure you were in the wrong lane but you didn’t see your mistake so he shouldn’t have been so angry with you. 

You sigh, taking a mental note: watch out for New York bike riders…stay out of their lane

The short walk from the store ends when you reach your new apartment building, well, new to you. The complex itself was ancient in a bit of a sketchy area but the rent was cheap for New York, so you would not rethink your dwelling too much, though sometimes it was hard to stay optimistic. 

When you first moved into the apartment it was…depressing…It had bare walls with some cracks, the smell of smoke completely taking over the place, and decked out with some ancient appliances you were grateful at least worked. The last three days had been spent moving in your furniture, getting a job, and scrubbing down every wall in your apartment to rid of any suspicious grime. Now with your apartment decorated and you living there for the past few days, you felt like you were finally adjusting to the residence. 

You hope that once you get your groceries in and have your first home-cooked meal in the place it will definitely feel like home. Being new to living on your own and new to the city everything was taking some…adjusting. Call it cliche but you had always dreamed of moving to New York ever since you were a little girl, so when you got the chance to move up here for school you were eager to jump at the opportunity. Who wouldn’t want to move to the city where dreams are supposed to come true right? 

Now that you're living it however it was not the tale of living up your dreams like you had envisioned as a child. In your dreams, you expected to live in a large lavish apartment, unlike the more than modest one you were currently in. You would have tons of friends and go out every day, your going out consists of you going to pick up take-out and as for friends, you didn’t know anyone. 

Classes didn’t start for a few days and you started work tomorrow, hopefully, some friendship opportunities will present themselves soon. Another childish thought you had in your mind was, that you would be friends with everyone at your complex, but with the way people seemed less than friendly towards you, that thought was seeming to fade more and more. Just need to stay positive, you haven't even been here a week, don’t let it get you down, was the mantra you just kept repeating in your head.   

Pushing through the front door of the complex, you make a beeline for the elevator. There is no way you are going to be carrying all your groceries up the stairs where you live on the 12th floor, no way that is happening! Getting into the elevator after making the journey from the store to your apartment; you're thankful that the cramped elevator is empty so early in the morning.

Living on the 12th floor had its perks but also had its cons, especially when you had a slow elevator. It takes a creaking and shaking eternity to get to your floor; you're sure your ice cream must be starting to melt by now. Finally hearing the ding you get off and walk across your floor. As you set your groceries down, digging for your keys in your purse, slight movement catches your eyes forcing you to look up towards your door. 

Right on your door above the knob was the biggest spider you had ever seen. Spiders and you had never been best friends, in no way did you want to kill one, you just thought that it was best they lived their lives away from you and your home. Looking at the spider it seems harmless, it’s not like it seems poisonous or life-threatening. Maybe you can just scare it? Shoo it away? It's huge but maybe it will get scared and run off your door. Just be tough, it's just a spider…a huge spider…with creepy eight legs…and fangs…staring at you….

Shuddering at the thought of the spider you can feel yourself developing arachnophobia by the second. Getting a grip on yourself, you push down the bubbling fear and motion your hand like you're waving the spider off.  Your whole body teases hoping it won't run anywhere near you or worse jump on you. It’s just a dumb spider, what could it really do to you? 

Little did you know that this spider was no punk, this spider must have seen a thing or two because instead of being normal and running off it, hissed and you swear it jumped towards you! 

The sudden movement of the spider makes you recoil with a startled scream. Now would you usually jump like this? No, but this spider was out for blood you could see it in his evil eight eyes!  

As you're moving back in panic, the door across from yours flies open with a guy around your age coming out of it looking alarmed. The sudden appearance startled you causing you to jump away from him, landing your back on the door you were just screaming at. The fluffy-haired guy looks at you with wide eyes not understanding at all what is happening. 

Opening your mouth to apologize and give an explanation you turn and see the spider close to your face, The sudden proximity makes you scream again which in turn makes the neighbor scream. 

Jumping from your door you grab onto the stranger and hide behind his back using him as a human shield from the spider, “Get it! Get it! Get it!” is all you can manage as you cling to his shirt. His hands are raised in surprise as you paw at his back, keeping your eyes on the spider. His eyes are on you with that same look of confusion on his face as to why some random person is screaming and now clinging to him. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks in a confused tone and a hint of frustration. 

Looking up at him, pointing to your door you're an incoherent mess, “H-h-huge spider!” 

“Huge spider…” He repeats before he looks at your door and sees the spider, in your eyes it’s an aggressive beast, to his eyes it's a common spider seen around the building all the time. 

Understanding the situation he sighs and you take it as a sign to let go of the person you don’t even know. Watching as he shakes his head and goes back into his apartment you feel your heart sink that you won’t be getting help for your spider problem. Approaching your door you look around trying to figure out a plan, but suddenly a hand is tapping your shoulder. Turning around, you see he has reappeared with a paper and an empty Chinese take-out box nudging you to move out of the way. 

Standing back you watch as he effortlessly places the box over the spider and then slides the paper under it. As you're watching him trap the creature you start to really take in his appearance. Looking at his outfit you see a worn-out T-shirt (crumpled in the back thanks to your grabbing) and plaid sleep pants, brunet hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush all morning. Now that you're looking at him closely, you can admire his athletic build with some great arms and large hands….damn…plus that face, though he looks completely exhausted he's still…kinda cute. 

Once the spider is caught he closes the box and turns to you, quickly you adjust your gaze from his hands back to his face. Though when you look up at him with a smile you are only met with a look of annoyance, alright seems peeved. Wanting to lighten up the situation and thank him you go to say thank you but he just walks past you with a grumble. 

“Dramatic…”. 

Dramatic! The word echoes in your head leaving you slack-jawed as you watch him leave down the hall to the elevator disappearing inside. How can he call you dramatic, that thing was ferocious and sure you screamed and cowered but you're not dramatic! Plus he doesn't even know you. In a huff you finally get your keys and unlock your door, turning your head towards the elevator then to the door across from yours you roll your eyes. 

Putting away your groceries you're still thinking about your grumbling neighbor, so much for you thanking him for his help. If he wants to call you dramatic you would be dramatic and not thank him. So much for the possibility of having the spider-catching neighbor as a friend. 

As you're putting away your stuff your frustration must hit a peak because you decide it's time for you to give him a piece of your mind. Nobody just insults you like nothing! Who knows maybe he would respect you for it. Going over to your door you open it and see him about to enter his apartment turning his head to look at you with an unimpressed gaze. 

Stepping out, you fold your arms before speaking, “Excuse me, but what gives you the right to think it’s okay to call me dramatic?”

Turning to face you he mirrors your stance “Oh, you heard that? I mean you were the one screaming over a spider.” 

“A huge and scary spider” 

Peter holds his hands up in mock defense, “You know you're right, I barely made it out with my life.” he says in a voice dripping in sarcasm. - great he's a smartass… 

“Whatever, thanks a lot, next time I will handle it on my own.” 

“Just make sure to keep the noise down next time.” 

Rolling your eyes you shoot him a dirty look as you start closing the door, 

“Just wait till you see the cockroaches…” he mutters

Your motion comes to a quick halt “What?!” 

“Nothing~” 

With that last remark, he shuts the door leaving you with your thoughts of all the other creepy critters this place could be littered with. He’s messing with you, right? 

Right?!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[cherriqa]

+.*i get those goosebumps every time*.+

SUMMARY: he just cant shake the feeling that somebody knows... let alone his own wife..

NICK GOODE (1994) X FEM! READER

MASTERLIST : HERE

AUTH NOTE: aahhhdgfgy first fic!! based on the song goosebumps by Travis Scott 😍😍😍😍 (update, it’s been like 5 months since i started writing this.. i’m so sorry 😭😭🫶🫶)

"hello?" you ask, twirling the landline phone cord between your index and middle finger. "shit, sorry hun.." you notice the voice instantly, its your husband Nick. "sorry forr..?" you trail off, now curious. "um.. ill be home late again." his voice is low and laced with slight malice. "oh." is all you manage to say. you turn to look back in the dining room. your children are sitting happily at the table, eating spaghetti bowls.

"are you upset?" he questions, slightly nervous. "no! its fine.. ill put your food in the fridge then.." you mumble into the speaker. he sighs before speaking again. "listen, i gotta go but ill be back when you wake up. promise." he tries to sound as cheery as possible, but you can see right through the act. "okay, bye! i love you." you murmur with a small smile as the line clicks.

something is up, you can tell. you set the phone down before heading into the dining room and picking up your husbands plate. your daughter looks up at you, her curly pigtails bouncing as she swings her legs off the chair. “mommy… where’s daddy..?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. “baby, he’s fine.. he’s just caught up with work again.” you manage a smile. she nods before going back to eating.

about 4 hours later, you hear the door open and the familiar leather shoe footsteps. your husband in all his glory walks into the living room. “well hi there..” Nick says with a small grin. he walks over to you, sitting beside you on the sofa. “how was work..?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder. he shrugs, “boring, as per usual.” the way he says it makes you giggle. “you’re sweaty, my love.” you kiss his cheek, making him smile again.

“ouch.” he jokes, standing up again. “i’ll go have a shower then.” you nod and watch as he turns around. “and by the way, could you find me that book.. um.. the one about criminology!” he recalls, to which you respond with a small “yup!” before you too, stand up.

you hear him walk up the stairs as you reach the bookshelf. as you look around, you spot a small knob out of the corner of your eye. you try to ignore it, thinking your vision is just playing tricks on you again. that is, until a passing train nearby causes the knob to rattle. you quirk your eyebrow, setting the newly found book down on the coffee table before inspecting the round knob closer.

as you get a better look, you realise that it belongs to a trapdoor that you happen to have never noticed. ‘strange..’ you think to yourself before turning it slowly. you’d think it’d be locked, considering you’ve never noticed it in your 8 years of living in your house. but it isn’t. the door slowly creaks open and the light from inside the living room shines into the small space.

upon further inspection, you spot a few candles, all of which definitely had been lit within the last few hours considering the faint smell of candle smoke. but also another thing worth noting, the two large stones with writing etched into them. one’s been fully covered, the second having almost just been started. you can only read the last 3 lines of the second stone.

RUBY LANE

THOMAS SLATER

RYAN TORRES

you make a face, weird that the last three shady side killer names are etched into.. wait.

what..?

[rigginsstreet]

Everyone knows.

Its not as terrifying or as humiliating as he thought it'd be. Actually; he kind of doesn't feel shit right now. The good thing about getting hit on the head too hard is it kind of fucks up your ability to function.

So everyone knows, but Billy's just sat there with his legs out the back of the Chief's cruiser, neutrally suspended in some syrupy thick slice of space where his broken ribs and possibly cracked skull are just a background thought, and—

And fucking Harrington is here. Because of course he is. Fucking Harrington is everywhere. School. Random backass houses with underage girls. Billy's dreams.

The front of the Hargrove household, walking up with that stupid little frown on his stupid, pretty face. Billy can't even scramble together the thought power to tip his head back and smirk. Make some quip. Just watches him approach; felled prey.

Steve opens his mouth.

"She's fine."

Harrington stops, blinks, brows knitting tighter as he crouches in front of Billy, elbows resting on his own thighs. He always looks like he has no fucking clue what's going on. Its equal parts kind of cute and kind of annoying.

"Okay," Steve answers slowly, head tilting. "Who is 'she'?"

"Max. Max is fine." And he should stop there. He should. But. "She's always fucking fine. He's never touched her. Hasn't even thrown shit at her. Her door doesn't even have a lock."

Billy's does. But its on the outside. Neil installed it their first fucking night here, after letting Max pick which of the two rooms she wanted first.

"Okay," Steve says again, and Billy kind of wants to kick him, but he's also pretty sure he's too fucked to aim right and he's not sure if he can add that embarrassment on as interest for what's still to come.

"I wasn't going to ask about Max."

Billy blinks.

"I also kind of wasn't going to ask if you were okay, but. Only because its pretty fucking obvious you're not."

Its a point Billy has to concede. Cherry Lane is in chaos; cop cars everywhere, broken glass glittering on the lawn like fallen stars, Billy's blood smeared down the driveway and tracked in bootprints across the porch.

Steve holds out a cigarette. Marl Blue, because he's a rich bitch, but the smoke kind of brings Billy back to life a little.

"Everyone asks."

Steve shrugs. "I've kind of learnt I'm not about doing what everyone else does, anymore. Max is obviously fine. I might not be that smart, but I can still figure some shit out. You're the one sitting here dying in the back of Hop's car."

Billy's kind of hating how many points Steve is scoring right now. As soon as he isn't seeing three of him he's gonna even it out.

"Max has enough people in her corner. She doesn't need me there, too," Steve hums, reaching out to pluck a shard of window pane out of Billy's knee with a quick flick of his fingers.

"I figured its about time someone stands in yours."

FIC ANON EVERY TIME I OPEN MY INBOX TO SEE YOU MY EYES LIGHT UP 🤩

it IS time someone stands in billys corner so true 🤧

[ha-rinrin]

The boy savior

I found out an interview in twitter where it was basically like a draft of the series where ekko tried to kinda "save" Powder (Jinx) from Silco and I tried to make it a fic but I kinda hated it, but anyways here it goes.

Disclaimer: Im NOT a timebomb shipper but I thought this would be kinda fun to write.

word count: 8.8k

The air was thick with smoke and the pungent scent of chemicals from the Shimmer vats. Silco’s lair was nestled deep within the underbelly of Zaun, where only those loyal to him dared venture. For months, Ekko had been obsessed with one thought: rescuing Powder.

Ever since the night Vander died and the Lanes were plunged into chaos, Ekko couldn’t stop thinking about her. Powder had been taken in by Silco, the man who had ripped everything apart. And there was no way she would ever willingly stay with him. She was trapped.

He imagined her locked away somewhere, scared and alone, waiting for someone to free her from Silco’s control.

He couldn’t let her stay there.

Ekko had spent weeks planning, gathering intel through the Firelights, risking his life to track Silco’s movements. He studied the way Silco's guards patrolled his base, learned the ins and outs of the Shimmer factory. It was dangerous, but every risk felt worth it if it meant getting closer to Powder.

Today, he’d found his opening.

Slipping past guards and descending rusted metal stairs, Ekko’s heart pounded with anticipation. His mind raced with thoughts of what he’d say to her when he found her. “I’m here to save you. It’s going to be okay. We can go back.” He imagined the relief in her eyes, the joy of seeing someone who hadn’t abandoned her.

He was going to bring her home.

The heavy door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing the dimly lit room where she stood. His breath caught in his throat.

There she was—her silhouette unmistakable, though something about her seemed off. She was standing with her back turned to him, her hands busy tinkering with something. Just like she always used to, back when they were kids. Back when things were simpler.

"Powder," Ekko called softly, his voice filled with hope and relief. He stepped into the room, his pulse quickening. This is it, he thought. She’s going to turn around, and everything will make sense again.

But she didn’t move.

"Powder," he said again, this time louder, his voice carrying the weight of the weeks he’d spent searching for her. “It’s me. I’m here to rescue you. We can leave—together.”

Still, nothing.

A chill ran down his spine as he took another step forward, watching her shoulders rise and fall in shallow breaths. Something was wrong. This wasn’t how he imagined it. He had expected her to turn and run to him, relieved to be free from Silco’s grasp. But instead, she stayed eerily still, her fingers methodically tinkering with what looked like some kind of makeshift bomb.

He reached out, his voice pleading, "Powder, it’s me. Ekko. I’m here to take you away from all this. Silco, He’s keeping you trapped!"

The moment the words left his mouth, her hands froze. Slowly, agonizingly slow, she straightened up. The clattering of tools stopped, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

She turned around, eyes wide, staring at Ekko as if he were a ghost from a life she had long buried.

For a moment, the shock in her face was unmistakable. Her mouth parted, but no words came out. It was as though she hadn’t expected to see him again, and for that brief second, she looked… vulnerable. Her chest heaved, her fingers twitched, and the makeshift bomb she had been working on clattered to the floor.

"Ekko…?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, like a memory pulled from the past.

The sound of his name from her lips almost undid him. It was her—Powder—underneath it all. His heart surged, filled with hope. "Yeah, it’s me. I’m here to take you home."

But just as quickly as the surprise appeared, her expression twisted into something else. The softness evaporated, replaced by cold anger.

Her eyes narrowed. The vulnerability was gone, swallowed up by a sharp, unhinged smile. "You shouldn’t have come here," she said, her voice hardening. 

Ekko’s heart sank. He stepped closer, his voice gentle. "Powder, please, I’m here to help you. We can go back. We can leave Silco—"

"I don’t need your help," she snapped, cutting him off, her voice rising with fury. “And I’m not Powder anymore, Im Jinx now”

He hesitated, trying to find the right words. "You’re not like this. You’re not who Silco made you. You were always stronger than this."

"Stronger?" she echoed, stepping closer, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You don’t get it! Silco is the only one who believed in me when you all turned your backs. He taught me how to survive in a world that wanted to break me!"

"But at what cost?" Ekko pressed, frustration seeping into his voice. "He’s twisted you! Powder wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want to be a pawn in his game!"

"Powder is gone! She died the night Vander was killed!, The day Vi left me to rot!” 

"I’m trying to save you!" Ekko pleaded, moving closer, grasping her wrist, his heart racing with urgency. "Powder, please! Just listen to me! You don’t belong to him. You’re not a weapon. You’re—"

Before he could finish, she lashed out, swatting his hand away as if it burned her. "Don’t touch me!" she spat, anger boiling in her voice.

In that moment of reflex, Ekko reached out again, grabbing her wrist again. "You need to listen!" he insisted, panic rising in his chest.

Jinx’s eyes blazed with fury, and before he could react, she twisted out of his grip and slapped him—hard. The crack of the impact echoed in the small room, and Ekko staggered back, stunned. The sting of the slap reverberated through him, but it wasn’t the physical pain that hurt—it was the realization of what had just happened.

It repeated itself, it was the same kind of slap Vi had given her that day.

Jinx’s chest heaved with shallow breaths, her hand still trembling from the force of the hit. Her face was twisted with anger, but there was something else there too—something that looked like pain.

"You should’ve stayed gone," she whispered, her voice raw and laced with bitterness. "I don’t need you. I don’t need Vi. I don’t need anyone."

Ekko stood there, stunned, his cheek burning from the slap. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by the truth he had been avoiding. She wasn’t going to come with him. No matter how much he wanted to save her.

"Powder…" he whispered, his voice cracking.

"I told you," she said coldly, backing away, her eyes hard and unreadable. "Powder’s gone.” 

Ekko’s throat tightened, his heart aching with the finality of her words. He wanted to fight for her, to reach through the armor she’d built around herself. But the truth was staring him in the face now—she wasn’t the girl he’d lost.

And maybe she never would be again.

Jinx turned her back to him, her body tense, her hands shaking as she went back to tinkering with the device on the table. "Go," she muttered, her voice low and cold. "Before I make you regret coming here."

Ekko lingered for a moment longer, his heart torn between fighting and letting go. But in the end, he knew there was nothing more he could do.

With a heavy heart, he turned and left the room, the sound of the door creaking shut behind him like the final nail in the coffin of what used to be.

A swarm of metallic butterflies danced across the bridge, glimmering ominously in the fading light. Just moments later, an explosion erupted, the blast echoing through the air like thunder and lighting up the sky with fiery brilliance. The culprit's name was etched into the scene, unmistakable.

The overhead lights on the bridge flickered violently as the shockwave slammed into the crowd, sending people sprawling to the ground. Amid the pandemonium, a familiar, melodic hum cut through the chaos. It was Jinx.

She stood defiantly at the center of the storm, her fingers gripping the container that held the hextech gem. With a swift motion, she slipped her arm through the strap, securing it against her side. But just as a grin began to spread across her face, her gaze caught sight of them: Caitlyn and Vi, standing frozen in disbelief.

A wicked smile  twisted her lips as she raised her gun without a second thought. The sound of her shot rang out, echoing ominously, as she aimed to separate the two. In that instant, the smoke billowed around her, obscuring her form like a ghost emerging from the shadows.

Then, out of the haze, Ekko flew toward her, his silhouette a blur of motion. He lunged forward, quick and determined, and with a swift maneuver, he wrested the container from Jinx’s grasp. The force of his movement sent her staggering back, momentarily off balance.

“Go!” Ekko shouted, his voice sharp and commanding as he tossed the gem to Caitlyn and Vi. They didn’t hesitate, instinctively obeying his command.

Jinx, regaining her footing, emerged from the swirling smoke, her wild hair framing her face, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and excitement. The remnants of the explosion flickered in the air around her, casting her in a surreal light.“Oh, look who it is,” she taunted, a wicked grin stretching across her face, the chaos only fueling her exhilaration. “The boy savior.”

[howlingday]

I just found this gem. It's crazy and bizarre, and I think someone can describe it as "radiating crackhead energy".

https://youtu.be/_8kaMEUkX70?si=8UwBQ5op-iR4Nqeq

I think Nora would not just like it, but jam to it. However, what do RWBY and JNPR think of it?

Link

We begin our story like any other. With a hot, young, sexy lady with an ass that just won't quit. I mean, as she was skipping down the lane with her cheeks clapping, you'd swear it'd start raining with how much thunder was rumbling. I mean, there's bubble booties, and then there's thunder-packed super buns~!

Unfortunately, such magnanimous mounds of meaty... butt... muscles could not be resisted from being slapped. And so they were. And by unfortunately, I mean unfortunately for the guy who slapped the butt, because that butt was attached to the body of a dynamite babe with an ass that won't quit.

An ass... and a hammer.

Nora swung her hammer round, knocking the pervert into the nearest distant wall. As he tried to recover, she then launched volley after volley of grenades from her grenade launcher at the lecherous butt-slapper. Smoke and pink mist surrounded and engulfed the rude dude. He stumbled through, finding his chin meeting the huge hammer head of her hefty helper in all things hurtful.

Nora then flew into the air and smashed her hammer down, catching and slamming the handsy creep into the ground, headfirst, leaving the dumb stupid idiot unresponsive on the ground.

She then skipped off into the sunset of the casino, her bouncy and bubbly butt cheeks clapping with every skip.

--------------------------------------------------

"Sooo.... What did you guys think~?"

"It's... an improvement." Jaune sheepishly shrugged. "But, uh... Did you really need to talk about your ass like that?"

"What's wrong with a girl being proud of what she's got?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Jaune waved his hands defensively. "It's just... kinda..."

"Off-putting?" Pyrrha suggested.

"Vulgar?" Weiss added.

"Kinda overrated?" Yang rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you're just jealous of my donk, and you know it~!" Nora stuck her tongue out. "What about you, Ruby? What'd you think?"

"I, uh... I'm kinda lost." The red-hooded girl admitted. "Was the guy really strong or were the grenades like flashbangs? Mixed with smoke grenades?"

"They're regular grenades." Nora answered. "The guy was just kinda strong."

"Kinda strong? I don't think anyone can survive normal grenades like that."

"Oh, sure they can! I did last week!"

"...Okay, normal people can't survive grenade explosions."

"Jaune can!" Nora pointed.

"Yeah, because I have a shield."

"And also aura." Pyrrha added.

"What about you, Blake? Did you like it?"

"It's a decent story, though I think the premise is a little self-indulgent. It really felt like you were writing this story more for yourself than for an audience. Also, the fact that you just waved off murdering someone in an incredibly graphic way is somehow justified by his sexual harassment on his part. This really felt more like a revenge fic written to blow off steam, something better kept to yourself than shared with others."

"...Wow! That's a lot of words for 'It's perfect, Nora!' What about you, Renny? Did you like my-" She turned to see an empty seat where Ren was previously seated, which was noted by the chains left ringed on the cushion. "Ah. I see you've already escaped at some point."

[billys-pretty-babe]

Hi 🤍 I have a request if you don't mind... So, remember that scene in season 2 where Billy enters the room and and sees Max getting ready for the Snowball ?

I believe that Neil punished Billy for not bringing Max home that night. I think in addition to hitting him, he probably also forbade him to go to that ball. I mean, everyone is preparing for the ball but him: he's not ready at all and doesn't seem to be about to go out.

And that's where my idea came from. Could you write a fic where Reader, who is best friends with Billy, decides to secretly visit him that night (through the window) and keep him company instead of going to the Snowball because she really likes him and doesn't want him to be alone ? In the end they have an amazing time together (laughing, listening to music and maybe slow-dancing too) and Billy is all flustered because he didn't expect anyone to think of him that way. 🥺🤍🤍🤍

May I Have This Dance?

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : ^^^^^

Warnings : Swearing, Billy calls the reader babe, Neil Hargrove shows up at the end for a brief moment.

Word Count : 907

A/N : Requests are open. Thank you @moonlightfountain for the request, I hope I did your beautiful idea justice!!

The Snowball, something that every teen looked forward to but not that everyone could afford. You knew that Max was going to go along with Billy who had two different girls to take.

"Why do you even need two dates?" Billy chuckled, "One for each arm, babe."

You knew there was an incident but that was all you knew. You drove past the school, everything lit up, girls in their dresses and boys in their slacks and nice shirts as you drove to Cherry Lane. Billy's Camaro was on the road, Neil's truck was nowhere to be seen. You drove to your friend's house a few houses down before walking to Billy's house.

Once you made it you tested his window, seeing that it was unlocked before carefully sliding it open and climbing through. Billy laid on his bed, cigarette between his slightly chapped lips, Motley Crue Shout At The Devil vinyl playing in the corner of his room. "B," he looked over at you, his eye beginning to bruise a little. "What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the stupid dance?" You shook your head, shutting his window.

"Vickie said you cancelled so I came over here to check on you." He nodded, blowing out the mouthful of smoke, "Well, I'm alive, you can leave now." You rolled your eyes and made your way to his bed, the bed was small but you made it work. He looked at you, "Why are you still here? You have a date." You waved him off, "He'll understand, you're me important to me than some stupid dance plus we still have prom to go to so I'm not missing anything important."

He nodded and put out the cigarette before he turned to you, "Was Vickie mad?" You laughed, "I think she was more mad at the fact that you had two dates." He laughed with you, his nose scrunching a little. Vince Neil sang in the background as you both talked. "Okay but what fruit do you think you'd be?" Billy raised a brow, "A fruit?" You nodded and he hummed, pretending to think. "Pineapple, I use it to make my cum taste good." Your jaw dropped, you couldn't help it and Billy cackled, trying not to fall off of his bed.

"Are you serious?" He laughed and shook his head, "No, just pulling your leg but your reaction was priceless." You shook your head, flicking him off. "Can I change the record?" Billy nodded and you sifted through his contained of them, making comments here and there, "Donna Summer?" Billy laughed, "Hey, don't judge. I don't judge you for your weird obsession with rockstars." You rolled your eyes and grabbed the She Works Hard For the Money record and you turned up the volume a little and you laid back down, the record sleeve in your hand so you could see the tracklist.

Every song had passed before I Do Believe (I Feel In Love) and you stood up. "May I have this dance," you asked, putting your hand out and Billy raised a brow, "You serious?" You nodded, "As serious as you are about that car out there." He laughed and stood up, taking your hand in his and he turned up the volume once more. He kicked his bed a little to make room to dance considering he had the smallest room in the house.

You and me, we're together.

He pulled you to his body quickly, taking you by surprise. "I don't know how to dance." You laughed, "Me neither." You both laughed and swayed to the music.

I do believe I fell in love.

He quickly spun you before catching your hip in his hand and one of your hands moved to his shoulder as you held the other as you guys danced around the room.

Oh let me love you. Oh let me kiss you. Baby, I'm fallin', your love is a callin'.

"You trust me?" "Sometimes." He laughed and spun you again before dipping you slowly, his curls falling to frame both of your faces. Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his blue ones, his pupils dilating and he leaned in a little before the front door slammed shut and you both quickly pulled away a little, you trying to catch your footing and he quietly apologized and turned his music down.

"Billy," Neil yelled out and Billy looked at you, his eyes sad. "Go home, I can deal with him." You nodded and squeezed his hand, making sure you had your jacket before climbing out of his window and you jogged to your car. You took backroads back to your house, thinking about what had just happened.

Was Billy going to kiss you? Would you have let him kiss you? Is Billy attracted to you? Is that why his pupils dilated?

You asked yourself questions until you got back home and continued to ask them as you made your way to your bedroom. You got yourself ready for bed and as you laid down you came to your conclusion.

You're in love with your best friend.

You sighed and looked at your bedside table to see a picture of Billy as Lover's Lake as he looked at the stars, the cherry of the cigarette lit up as he took a pull from it. You smiled, admiring the picture before you fell asleep, wondering how Billy felt about you.

[laughingphoenixleader]

also. kanera on an airplane for the three sentence fics.

behold, Kanairplane (as @accidental-spice called it one time and it never left my brain)

Kanan settles into his seat on the plane, but his spirit is far from settled.

Restlessness fills every nerve within him, as per usual, especially when he's in a plane. He squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to block out the waves of memories that come crashing in. "GO, CALEB!"

General Billaba's voice rings through his mind, the memory like a knife in his gut. For the umpteenth time, he curses the no-alcohol policy that goes for every airline. He would know. He researched all of them in pursuit of one that would let him bring a drink on his flight, but, alas and, similarly, alack, he found nothing but disappointment.

So here he is, with a two-hour flight straight through Misery Lane to look forward to. I hate it here.

"I'd consider buckling your seatbelt, mate," a cool, Irish-accented voice recommends from the window seat to his left. Kanan glances over at the ebony-skinned man with waist-length, pitch-black braids next to him, who wears an unbothered expression paired with a raised eyebrow. He has a cool, unaffected air, like you could throw a brick at him and he’d just catch it and ask “is that all you’ve got?”

Kanan nods, pulling the seat belt and shoving the silver end intothe…. well, other silver end, but it's the actual buckle, so it's different.

When he glances out the window, it isn’t the pavement of the airport that he sees, it’s air filled with ash and fire. He curses under his breath, dragging his gaze away, wishing for something, anything to distract him from the memories that keep crashing in over the next indeterminate amount of time.

But then his prayer is answered. A voice sounds over the loudspeaker, one that pulls Kanan straight out of his flashback and back into the present, and he feels like he’s just been dragged out of water that had been drowning him. He sucks in a deep breath, but it catches in his throat as he listens. The voice is warm, musical, and distinctly feminine. He’s never heard anything like it.

“This is your pilot speaking,” the voice announces in a friendly tone, so different from the impersonal one so often used by airline pilots. Different in more ways than one. “And I like to do things a little differently around here—I’ll be conducting your flight safety announcement this afternoon.”

Kanan’s spirits rise way more than they should at the knowledge that he’ll be hearing a lot more of this voice. He’s not sure exactly what it is that has him so spellbound—something about it makes him want to follow it anywhere.

The pilot scatters little witticisms throughout her flight safety announcements—“keep your seatbelts fastened, because I just rewatched Top Gun: Maverick and got inspired”—“put the oxygen mask on anyone who is a child or is acting like a child first”—“this is not a toilet seat cover it is a life jacket”—that have Kanan chuckling to himself all during what is the most entertaining beginning to a flight he has ever experienced.

“She’s a fun one, isn’t she?” the Irish guy comments from nearby.

“Yeah,” Kanan replies, a smile tugging on one end of his mouth. “Seems like it.”

“Text people—tell them that you love them, or never wanna see them again. or whatever,” the pilot adds when she’s telling them to turn their phones on airplane mode. Kanan snorts at that. He desperately wants to meet this woman—or at least see who could be attached to a voice and sense of humor like that.

He ponders this as he stares out the window for the next long while, actually seeing the fluffy clouds blanketing the area underneath their plane rather than smoke-streaked sky, for once. Somehow, this woman has eased and pacified his ravaged, PTSD-ridden mind that he hasn’t gotten therapy for, both because he isn’t interested and because he can’t afford it anyway. What money he has, he spends on alcohol and buying things for whatever girl he might be spending time with, which changes often. As does his place where he’s living—hence the secret third thing that saps his bank account—flights away. Away from the suspicious Imperial gazes that’ve been following him all too much lately, in this case. As per usual.

Then the plane is shuddering, and warning sirens start blaring, and Kanan thinks he’s just lost it again. But the screams from the passengers around him and, especially, the shouted curses that he’s never heard before in his life from the nearby Irish guy convince him that, somehow, this is real. As is the smoke covering the windows of the right side of the plane as it leans to one side.

We’ve been hit.

Somehow, impossibly, their commercial airplane has been hit.

The voice shouts over the loudspeakers now, its musical tones now strained, yet firm and strong. “Everyone remain calm! Follow safety protocols—evacuate from the plane!”

People begin grabbing their lifesaving devices, scrambling for oxygen masks, and generally panicking. Kanan shoves a mask onto his face and breathes in deeply, then springs into action, helping people put on their oxygen masks, placing comforting hands on people’s shoulders—but then the loudspeakers fill with that amazing voice, now tinged with urgency. “If anyone has any piloting experience, I need you up here now.”

Kanan stops short. He’s definitely got piloting experience. But the idea of getting into a cockpit again…he doesn’t have the courage for that. Not after the last time he was in one. General Billaba’s screams echo through his mind for what feels like the thousandth time.

But these people need him. And the owner of that voice needs him.

So Kanan finds himself stumbling up the aisle, the plane lurching beneath his feet. Hours seem to drag by as he makes his way to the cockpit door. He hears more explosions outside that he doubts are real, but he finds himself wondering if they might be. He always does. Trauma that deep can’t be reasoned away.

He yanks the door open and catches a glimpse of the most stunning person he has ever seen—but he forces himself not to focus on that right now. He takes in the scene—red lights flashing, copilot passed out on the console, vibrantly purple hair splayed all over it—and tells the pilot, keeping it brief, “Air Force vet. What do you need?”

The next indeterminate amount of time is a whirlwind of shouting things back and forth, pressing buttons, pulling levers, and managing communications with towers and other planes. The pilot and Kanan somehow slip into a rhythm, working together to keep the plane upright and figuring out exactly what the problem is. They discover that the plane has been grazed by what seems to be some sort of missile. Nothing vital on the inside of the plane was hit, but the same can’t be said for the right wing.

The Imperials don’t exactly clear areas when they conduct training exercises. They aren’t that cautious, and they don’t care that much.

It takes every ounce of Kanan and the captain’s combined concentration to keep the plane stable, but they manage it somehow. They find the closest runway possible and haphazardly land the plane. Well. It’s more of a crash than a landing. But the plane’s in one piece, and there are no worrying sounds from the passengers, and there are already people running up to help.

The pilot next to Kanan lets out a breath that it sounds like she’s been holding for a while and falls back into her seat. She sticks out her hand for him to shake. “Captain Hera Syndulla.”

Kanan shakes it, finally taking a good look at her. Captain Syndulla is as beautiful as her voice, which is saying something. She has stunningly jade-green eyes, two dark, thick braids streaming down her back, ending in spiraling curls dyed as green as her eyes. Her warm tan skin about the same shade as Kanan’s glows next to the crisp white uniform she absolutely rocks. Confidence and capability practically pour off of her, and the relieved, exhausted smile she throws him as they shake hands lights up the cockpit. The golden wings pinned right above her heart gleam as brightly as her eyes are. “Kanan Jarrus,” he tells her, after he realizes that he’s been staring for what hopefully wasn’t too long. Nice to meet you, Captain Syndulla.”

She scoffs. “I just trusted you to help fly a plane with me. Call me Hera.”

“Okay, Captain Hera,” Kanan quips with a grin. She rolls her eyes.

“I guess I can live with that,” she tells him, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze shifts to the window.

“I like to call things like this “very exciting landings,”” Captain Hera explains, gesturing towards the window.

“You mean, crashes?” Kanan asks helpfully.

The captain turns to him and narrows her eyes, her expression and flat voice one of the most terrifying things Kanan has ever experienced, and that’s saying a lot. “I never crash.”

Startled and fearing for his life, Kanan gives her a respectful two-fingered salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nods approvingly. Then her expression softens. “We make a pretty good team,” the pilot remarks, her voice warm and pleasant (read: heavenly and angelic).

“Yeah,” Kanan says with a smile. “Yeah, we do. And it’s an honor, Captain.” He might have added juuuust a bit of flirtation into that last bit.

“Thank you,” she tells him, placing a hand on his arm. He goes very, very still, and has to remind himself to breathe. “Not just anyone could have or would have stepped in like you did.” Her voice is overflowing with gratitude, and he is absolutely overjoyed to have brought that kind of gratitude to her.

“Any way I can repay you?” she asks, her question genuine, and it sends Kanan’s heart pounding.

He considers.

He second-guesses.

Then he goes for it.

“Can I treat you to dinner?”

She doesn’t seem altogether surprised by this. But what he’s holding out for is if she seems displeased by it.

So far, so good.

Captain Hera tilts her head to the side, considering. “I don’t go on dates with just anyone,” she tells him, her voice neutral, and Kanan isn’t sure whether to set his hopes lower or higher. But when a smile lights her face, it doesn’t even matter whether she says yes or no, because he’s just happy to have made her smile.

“But you’re clearly not just anyone,” she finishes, and his heart skips several beats. His stomach flips. This is the best moment of my life.

Okay, that last thing’s kind of concerning.

“It’s a deal, then, Captain Hera,” he replies, smiling crookedly at her, attempting to ignore the way his heart is thundering. Giddiness fills him. He feels like a teenager again, even though he’s successfully asked out so many different women. Somehow, this Captain Hera is different. Special.

Years later, sitting across from her at dinner in their dining room in their home, wedding rings on their hands, that’s truer than ever.

[blindmagdalena]

I love all your fics! And with @venus-haze newest Homelander headcannons where she gave us a sort of Lois Lane reader I was wondering how a Lana Lang could fit with her being the childhood sweetheart. And then it hit me... so could I request a fic of reader whose a comic writer/artist and whose latest project is the newest Homelander comic which centers on his trials and tribulations of being a kid in a small tow with superpowers, and it's promoted as being based off of Homelanders "genuine" childhood experiences, and a bit of pr thing so that he now has a whole "i was a kid like you once," sort of thing. But reader is told he's a busy man and can't take the time to tell her stories about his childhood so it's on her to create these stories. As a result she takes from her own childhood experiences and ends up creating a character based off of herself that serves as Kid Homelander's best friend. The comic follows the general format of Reader's character being a good-hearted rascally sort who gets into some sitcomy trouble every week and it's up to Kid Homelamder to save her from herself as he discovers his newfound powers and learning important lessons about being a good hero. Reader even uses her own name for the character because she uses a pen name for her work because she wants to make at least one thing authentic. The series is pretty successful and one day someone asks Homie if he still talks to reader and he just laughs it off and says of course. But this does make him curious about the series as a whole, and upon reading it he becomes obsessed with it and by extension reader when he finds out she's basing a lot of the story off of her own childhood and even put herself in the story.

At first reader is flattered he wants to meet her to congratulate her on the series especially now that there's talks of a cartoon series being tossed around. But then it gets a little unnerving when he starts saying stuff like "you remember when... *thing that happened in the comic*" and reader just thinks he's playing along especially since nobody else knows that she's making up the stories. And it becomes downright scary when he straight up starts grilling her over other stories of when she was a kid so she can help him 'remember' "the good ol' days" back in whateversville, and to him she now represents the childhood he wanted but was denied in favor of being a test subject.

Sorry if this was really long I just got excited over the premise 😅 but odk what do you think?

ohhh yes! battie's post, for reference. holy smokes, i think this is an INCREDIBLE fic premise! i'm obsessed with the last bit in particular. it fits in so well with Homelander's tendency to legitimize fiction as a coping mechanism, ESPECIALLY in his relationships. of course he would want them to feed even more into the fabrication, and like you said, help him reclaim something that was taken from him.

i'm also extremely into the gradual deterioration of excitement into discomfort and then mortification as it becomes clear that Homelander is Not Well, and now he's YOUR problem. what started as kind of a silly little media improv ploy has grown into a full blown delusion. one that should you fail to uphold, Homelander very well may snap.

of course he has to make sure he's educated on his own childhood bestie, so he's been stalking her and learning everything he needs to know, even details she never included in the comic. he even goes so far as to correct her when she uses the wrong details. imagine the horror of him just KNOWING things he shouldn't know! pulling real life details instead of those written into the comic.

[itsthecherryontop]

Adrenaline Rush (Billy Hargrove)

Scene from Chapter Two of my Billy Hargrove Slowburn Enemies to Lovers Fic

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Henderson OC (Halle)

Chapters Posted: 23/49 UPDATES WEEKLY

Sighing in relief, I turned out of the study room and gathered my things. There were ten minutes of lunch left and I needed fresh air. I walked my way to the bleachers lining the football field and took a deep breath of the cold air. I should have listened to Dustin and stayed home. I was too tired to deal with any more Upside Down shit today. Every muscle in my body was aching to get on my bike and ride away from there, but I knew I couldn’t leave Steve alone in class after what just happened. 

Sitting on the cold metal I pulled out the sandwich I had packet. I wasn’t even very hungry, but it was better than sitting there with shaking hands. Slipping my headphones back on I laid down, watching the clouds pass. Maybe I could just sleep through the next period. If I didn’t show up Steve would leave to search for me and we could both skip. 

The smell of a burning cigarette wafted through the air, instantly causing me further disinterest in my food. Sitting up on my elbows I looked for the sources. Leaning against the wall at the far of the school were Billy Hargrove and Tina smoking. Hearing Tina force a loud laugh at something the blond said through my headphones was the deciding factor that it was my cue to head inside. 

Finding my seat next to Steve, he looked over at me like he wanted to talk about the scene at the library, but knew he couldn’t. Placing a forced smile on my face that I hoped was reassuring I addressed him, “It will be fine. Nancy’s smart she won’t do anything. Especially not if it puts people she cares about in danger.”

“I know. I’m just worried about her,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. 

“I am too, but like you said. We are gonna go to that party and have a good time. We will be stupid normal teenagers.”

“Yeah, stupid teenagers. I can do that. Am I still driving you?”

“Well, I don’t plan on biking there.”

As I exited the building, I grabbed my bike and rode over to the middle school. As the younger students rushed out of the door, I searched the faces for my brother and his friends while I approached the bike racks. After the crowd had thinned out slightly, four boys emerged in Ghostbusters costumes. 

“Hey, you guys ready to go trick or treating?” I asked as they approached. 

“We were the only ones dressed up today,” Dustin complained as he reached for his bike. 

“Last year everyone dressed up,” Lucas added. 

“There is nothing wrong with that. It just means everyone else is a loser,” I replied trying to make them feel better. “I don’t even have to see anyone else's costumes to know that you guys had the best costumes. I mean you guys are the fucking Ghostbusters what is cooler than that?”

“My mom’s here. I’ll see you guys later,” Will stated before walking off as we called our goodbyes.

“No, everyone made fun of our costumes,” Mike snarked and we started pedaling home. 

“Yeah, even the new girl,” Dustin commented. 

“Well fuck them! It doesn’t matter what they say cause it’s not true. I bet all those other kids wanted to wear their costumes today too, but you know why they didn’t? Cause they were scared. Scared of what other people would think of them. And when they get older they are going to regret living for what other people want and not doing what makes them happy. You got that? But you guys did what you wanted and that makes you braver than all those other shitheads,” I ranted. “Who cares if they think you are weird or a freak?! Do you think a normal person could have fought literal monsters? I mean look at you, you are the bravest kids I have ever met. And if they can’t see that then they can go fuck themselves. You guys are badass fucking monster killers!”

The boys laughed as we made our way down the road, passing trees of changing colors. Spread out across the right lane the boys discussed why everything changed that Halloween. At the sound of an engine, I turned to see a car speeding toward us. 

“Guys?” I called, trying to get the boys' attention. Seeing that the car wasn’t slowing down I tried again screaming, “GUYS! GET OFF THE ROAD!” The boys started frantically pedaling faster. “TO THE SIDE!”

One by one the boys crashed into the side of the road with shouts. Seeing as I was behind them I had to pedal faster so I would land further up than where they landed not wanting to hit them. Lord knew running into them at that speed would cause some serious injuries. My bike skitted out from under me as I reached the shoulder just before the car passed. Landing hard I slammed into the ground rolling until I hit a tree trunk. Looking down the road I saw the car speeding away.  Even at just a glimpse, I knew that car, a blue Camaro, belonging to none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Pushing my palms against the ground I lifted myself off the ground. My eyes watered at the sting of pain I felt. 

“Shit,” I cursed sitting up. “Are you guys okay?” 

Looking over at them they all looked fine. It didn’t look like they had a scratch on them. They seemed busy discussing MadMax who was probably siblings with that mullet-headed psycho.  Looking down I could see all the damage done. My jeans were completely torn open on my right leg revealing scraps covering most of my leg. I could already tell I would bruise on my arm from where I landed on my bike, which also happened to leave a cut. Lastly, I could feel my face was fairly beaten up from hitting the ground. 

“Holy shit!” Dustin shouted as he ran toward me, followed by Mike and Lucas. 

“Are you okay?” Mike asked. 

“Will you be able to walk? Your bike is wrecked,” Lucas exclaimed. 

“I swear to god I am going to take Steve’s bat to that car. That psychotic asshole should have his fucking license revoked,” I seethed trying to stand up. 

“So that must be Max’s brother driving then,” Dustin suggested. 

“Are you sure you can walk the rest of the way home? You don’t look okay,” Lucas worried inspecting each of my injuries. 

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is. Plus, I am not letting you leave me alone out here.”

“We will walk with you and you can hop on the back of my bike if you need. We still have a few miles to go,” Mike offered, picking up my bike to hand it to me. 

“Thanks. You guys are good kids.”

The walk home was extremely tedious. Just the two miles left took an hour and 20 minutes versus the normal 15-minute bike ride. As soon as we entered the door Dustin rushed me to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. I was glad my mom wasn’t here to fuss over every scratch. Deciding it would be easier to shower before treating the wounds, Dustin left for his room. 

Stripping my clothes off ended up being far more painful than I had initially thought. The blood had started to dry on my leg and arm causing the fabric to stick to my skin. After one of the worst showers of my life, I inspected the extent of my injuries in the mirror. There were traces of redness along most of the right side of my body. One of the worst consequences of fair skin: bruising easily. My torso survived pretty much unscathed, with my legs taking the worst of the heat. My face had scraps along my cheek temple and jaw, which was going to bruise. 

Reaching for the rubbing alcohol, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the pain I was about to cause myself, knowing I would likely cry either way. Eventually, I just gave up and called Dustin in to pour the bottle over my leg. It would take too long to use a rag and I couldn’t bring myself to dump the bottle over the open cuts even after much self-convincing. Thank god, Dustin didn’t have the same reservations as he emptied half the bottle over my thigh. He did apologize profusely after I spent the next minute and a half cursing with watering eyes. 

After covering any open wound as best as I could. By the time I departed the bathroom, it was already 6. Steve would be picking me up in 45 minutes. Changing into my costume, I made my way to the kitchen. 

“You’re still going?” Dustin asked getting ready to leave to meet his friends.

“I already told Steve and Nancy I would go. It’s a big deal for them. They need a night to be normal teenagers,” I responded grabbing leftover pasta from the fridge. “And as you can see I am still standing. It takes a lot more to kill me than some dumb teenage boy.” 

“Are you sure you will be okay? You were pretty hurt. The adrenaline might not have worn off yet.”

“It’s been two hours. I am pretty positive the adrenaline has worn off. I bandaged it all myself and you helped me disinfect it so there is nothing to worry about. Plus, I will be with Steve and Nancy, so go have fun and bring me back some candy.”

“Okay. Just be careful.”

“I always am. Love you,” I shouted as he closed the door. 

Finishing up the rest of my reheated pasta, I cleaned my plate finishing just as I heard the horn of Steve’s car. Climbing into the backseat, both passengers turned to me in concern. 

“Halle, what happened are you okay?” Nancy frantically asked.

“Teenage boys suck at driving so I fell off my bike racing to get out of the way, but I’m fine. It is all surface wounds. I’m patched up and good to go,” I explained. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to stay home? I’ve been in enough fights to know your face is going to bruise,” Steve tried to soothe. 

“Look I iced my face already. There is nothing else I can do right now and I would rather not sit at home alone until my mother comes home and helicopters over me because I got a little scraped up.  Plus I think it adds to my costume don’t you think? Dead or tortured Indiana Jones is way more original.”

“Okay, but if it starts hurting a lot tell me and I will take you home. Deal?” Steve negotiated. 

“Yeah, that sounds fair,” I agreed as he turned, leaving only Nancy facing me with a tight-lipped smile. 

There were already cars lining Tina’s driveway as pulled up to her house. I was already starting to dread my decision to come. Slowly exiting the car I followed the couple inside. The party had barely started and the inside of the house was crowded and hot. 

Hanging around the edges of the party we talked, well more like Nancy and Steve talked while I played the third wheel. Glancing around I decided I would never host a party. There was toilet paper in the fan and empty cups and other trash abandoned on the floor. Tina had signed herself up for a serious clean-up tomorrow. 

“I invited Jonathan,” Nancy announced to me. 

“I doubt he will come. He doesn’t like parties and he is in charge of watching Will tonight,” was all I responded. 

I was far more social than Jonathan and even I didn’t normally show up to parties. I would rather be with my brother and his friends than here as lame as that seemed. I just didn’t do well with small talk. I didn’t have any interest in a hangover tomorrow. Nor did I want some moron’s beer breath in my face or his hands on my body. I had no reason to be here other than for my friends and the fact I like dancing. 

“Do you guys want to dance?” I asked hoping I would be spared from dancing without them. When they shook their heads no, I realized I was either going to have to solo it or suffer alone all night. “Okay, well come find me when you plan on leaving I guess.”

Making my way to the kitchen I grab a small amount of what I have no doubt is a strongly spiked punch. Downing the near-pure alcohol substance I make my way around the room until I find someone I know well enough. Before I could get far I heard someone call my name. Turning around I came face to face with Tina.

“Halle? Is that you?” She asked looking over me. 

“Yeah, the one and only,” I responded. 

“I’m surprised you came. You aren’t really known for your appearance at parties.”

“What can I say I heard it was going to be a great party. I love your Madonna costume by the way. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. I went all the way to the outlet mall a few towns over to get the right pieces for it. You certainly went all out with your costume. Indiana Jones right? The facial makeup for the injuries is incredible. How long did that take you?” she asked lifting her cup to her mouth. 

“The scraps I got falling off my bike earlier but the bruises and blood are all fake. You’d be surprised with how far a little eyeshadow and food coloring can get you in the fake injury world,” I joked.  

After a few songs, which luckily Tina joined in on, I went back over to Steve and Nancy, who were still near the wall. As I approached them I started regretting leaving the dancefloor as Shout at the Devil came on. 

“Are you guys gonna dance or mope? It’s a party. Stupid teenagers remember?” I encouraged. 

“Dancing sounds like a great idea,” Steve began to say, as chanting began outside. Steve’s eyes narrowed in on something across the room and I followed his gaze. “For fuck’s sake.” I heard Steve mutter as Billy set his eyes on Steve and made his way over. 

“I am too sober to deal with this,” I declared walking back to the kitchen with Nancy in tow. 

“What’s in this?” She asked a boy in a toga standing next to the punch bowl. 

“Pure fuel!” He yelled. 

I simply shrugged as Nancy grabbed a plastic cup. Grabbing my own I placed a small amount within it and downed it trying to ignore the burn of my esophagus. Nancy however always ambitious, downed half a cupful. As Steve suddenly appeared suggesting she slowed down. She quickly brushed him off and pulled me towards the dancefloor.

 Looking at the interaction between Steve and Nancy, I had a feeling I was missing something. Either way, something was going to give and it was not going to end well. 

Nancy and Steve seemed to ignore whatever it was, so I decided to not bring it up. Whatever it was could wait for tomorrow. Tonight was for normalcy. Feeling the light buzz and the Blondie song blaring through the speakers, I spun and swayed to the beat singing the words. It didn’t matter who was watching, the lights were bright, and the house loud enough to muffle the fears that whispered in my mind. For the first time in what felt like months, I didn’t have to worry. 

Throwing my head back I laughed, feeling free. Why didn’t I attend parties more often? I felt like a bird spreading its wings for the first time after living in a cage. The desert getting its first rain of the year. The sun finally peeking through the clouds after a harsh winter. 

After Nancy downed her third drink, I needed some fresh air. Excusing myself I stepped into the backyard, which had calmed down since Hargrove’s keg stand. Sitting down on an empty chair with a glass of water I leaned back and looked at the stars. At the edge of Hawkins, the stars were always easier to see, being farther away from the town lights. My mind stilled like ripples in a pond as I caught my breath, still riding the after-dancing high. 

Finishing my water I headed back inside looking for a bathroom. Making my way back to the dancefloor, I searched for Nancy and Steve. Figuring they would join me I entered the mass of bodies, turning my body to the rhythm, dancing with random people. 

After a few songs, I pardoned myself from the boy I was dancing with in search of my friends. When I didn’t find them outside or anywhere in the house I started asking random people. 

“Harrington? He left with Wheeler after a fight, well more like he left alone and Wheeler left with the Byers Perv,” Tommy bragged overhearing me ask Nicole. 

I could feel my face drop as I absorbed his statement. They wouldn’t just leave me, would they? They know I don’t have any other way home. 

“Wow, Henderson. Why the long face? Don’t tell me they were your ride?” Tommy teased. When I didn’t answer he laughed. “Oh shit! Did they really leave you? Bummer. Knarly costume though.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” I said as I walked away. 

Looking at my watch it was already eleven. Heading upstairs to where I saw a phone, I pushed past the stumbling bodies. Grabbing the phone I dialed Steve’s number knowing his parents weren’t home. When he didn’t answer I tried again. On the third call, I heard the phone connect. 

“Steve-” I began before I heard him disconnect the phone. Knowing he left the phone off the receiver so it wouldn’t ring again, I slammed the phone down releasing a strangled scream.

 Almost everyone in this house was far too intoxicated to drive, so I would have to walk the 5 miles. Downing another serving of punch, I grabbed a water bottle and practically shoved my way out the door ramming into anyone in my way. Sure enough, Tommy was right. Steve’s burgundy BMW was nowhere to be seen. 

The road was dark as I walked on its edge. The further I walked the more I realized how tired I was. My body started aching the further I walked and being surrounded by the woods didn’t help my mentality. Every ounce of freedom I had felt at Tina’s vanished. I could practically hear the scraping of my self-created cage bars as they rose from the ground locking me in. 

If I died out here I would spend the rest of eternity haunting the shit out of those two. I don’t care what happened, I would never have deserted them at a party without a ride home. Especially after the events of last year. 

Is this how Barb felt? No, I mean I only left her to get snacks. I mean I was unaware of the Upside Down and less than 100 yards away. She was alone for five minutes tops. They left me alone for five miles. I mean did they not care about me? Sure I felt like an afterthought sometimes, but they at least tried to include me. God, being the third wheel sucked. I mean even Jonathan didn’t try to make sure I had a ride, but then again he likely thought Steve would take me home. This has got to be one of the shittiest days of my life. 

I wish I at least had my Walkman, then I could overwhelm the eerie noises in the woods. Taking off my hat I swung it at my side. My feet were already starting to hurt, these combat boots were not broken in enough for this. Looking down at my watch, it showed I hadn’t even been walking for half an hour. I wasn’t even walking fast enough for my normal pace due to the aching in the right side of my body. Headlights shined behind me as I turned. Stepping off the road to avoid dying from drunk drivers, I watched as the car sped past me at an illegal speed. In fact, every car that passed was speeding far too fast.

I was going to kill Steve Harrington when I saw him tomorrow. Who leaves a teenage girl to walk home alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere? This is how I end up dead in a ditch and on the news for some vicious crime. I did not want to be the next victim of a Black Dahlia type of murder. 

The more I thought about it the angrier I got. I mean what kinds of friends do that? I just wanted to punch something. Stopping my march, I released a scream until my lungs were empty and my throat was raw. Collapsing on a patch of grass to the side of the road a sob escaped my lips. 

“Was I not worth caring for?” my mind whispered. “Would they even miss you?”

Dustin would. Dustin would always miss me. He was probably worried, I thought peeling my shoes from my feet to reveal bloody blisters on my heels. Tying my boots together I placed them over my shoulder as I stood whipping tears from my eyes. My socks scruffed against the cold pavement as I shuffled along. 

Maybe I should have asked Tommy for a ride. Sure he was a little drunk, but he would have driven me. Even if he didn’t want to Carol would have made him. At least then I had a chance of making it to town before sunrise. Hell, I should have just gone to Tina and asked her if I could just crash in a spare room for the night. She would have understood. I would have offered to help clean tomorrow if I needed to. 

 Drinking a sip of my water I checked the time again. It was nearly one in the morning and I still had at least another two miles. 

At the snap of a stick in the woods to my right, I froze, heart pounding, desperately looking for whatever was lurking in the shadows. Straining my eyes I couldn’t make out anything. Rationally I knew it was probably a mouse or raccoon maybe even a coyote, but my mind was already set on a Demogorgon lunging at me. When the leaves shuffled I bolted and my mind collapsed. 

I was right back in Hawkins Middle School running from the Demogorgon while carrying El. I could hear the screams of the Hawkings Lab employees behind me. The tearing of their flesh, breaking of bones as it caught them. Lured by the smell of blood from dead bodies, the monster’s calling card. The echos of their useless gunfire bombarded my eardrums leaving a ringing. The lights flickered as the air chilled. Digging my heels deeper I pushed faster. I could feel my socks tearing, the soles of my feet being shredded by the rough pavement. The shoes falling off my shoulders, forgotten in my wake. The hat and water bottle slid from my grasp as they fell to the ground behind me. 

My lungs screaming for the air I couldn’t breathe fast enough. Tears streamed from my face filling my eyes until I couldn’t see. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop. 

I could feel my steps get slower no matter how hard I screamed for them to keep up. My knees weakened until they buckled and I collided with the pavement. Automatically I clenched my eyes shut and curled upon myself as I hit the ground. Sobbing, a scream erupted from my throat as I prepared for razor teeth to rip into my skin. When the impact never came I opened my eyes to find myself alone in the middle of the road. There was no sign of a Demogorgon anywhere. What was wrong with me?

Unable to pick myself up I wept until I threw up, continuing to dry heave until I thought I was gonna pass out. I was so tired I wanted to lay down right there. I didn’t even care if someone ran me over. Maybe whoever came would see me and take me to the hospital. Everything hurt. 

I nearly fell over again when I eventually tried to stand. My feet were so scrapped I was leaving bloody footprints. My scrapes had reopened and I could already tell I created new ones. At an even slower pace, I dragged myself home. I thought about simply giving up and curling onto the grass or against a tree for the night, but Dustin would be worried. Mom would be furious if I was out all night. 

By the time I made it to the house, it was almost three. The streets were completely empty, which is probably a good thing as I looked like I had stepped out of a horror film.  Reaching the front door it was locked, and the key under the mat wasn’t there. I knew I didn’t leave my window open, so I knocked on Dustin’s. After a good five minutes of hard banging, he appeared. 

“Why the hell are you back so late? Where were you?” He hissed in the dim shine of his nightlight. 

“The door is locked and the key is gone,” I forced out as my as I could with the little remnants of my voice. 

“Well come in,” he ordered pulling his window open further open. 

Placing my hands on the window seal I tried to haul myself up, only to cry out. “I can’t. You’ve gotta open the front door.” 

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I barely had anything and it was hours ago.”

“Fine, I’ll open the door,” he grumbled leaving his room. 

As he opened the door he followed me back into the house announcing he was going back to bed. Entering the bathroom I bathed for the second time that day and cleaned my wounds. We would have to buy more rubbing alcohol at this rate. 

I was noticeably far worse than I had been earlier that day. The bruises had begun to develop color along my legs, arms, and face. As soon as I crawled into my bed, after downing a cup of water and ibuprofen I was out. 

I woke up that morning to a scream from my mother. Pushing myself out of bed I limped out into the entryway where my mother was yelling at Dustin 

“Is that blood? Do you think it is funny to scare me like this? You are gonna clean this up before you go see your friends,” she shrieked pointing at the trail of bloody footprints I had forgotten to clean up last night. 

“No, I didn’t do that. It’s pretty genius I have to hand that to Hal-” Dustin cut off as he saw me there. The color slightly draining from his face. 

“Sorry, that is my fault. I forgot to clean them up, ” I lulled too sore and tired to say much else. As soon as my mother's eyes caught on me she stopped with widened eyes, slowly approaching me with outstretched arms as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 

“Oh, my god. My baby. What happened to you? Who did this? You know you can tell me. Oh, my poor baby. How could someone do this to you?” she cried hovering her hands over my arms afraid to hurt me. 

“I crashed on my bike, Mom. I’m fine.” 

“Oh honey why don’t you get in the car and I will take you to the hospital to get you looked at.”

“I already disinfected them and covered them. I was extra careful. I really just want to sleep. I am so tired, Mom.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. When I nodded she sighed, “Okay, I will make you your favorite for breakfast. How about that? I will head to the store right now. Dustin watch your sister please.”

Frantically she gathered her purse and keys. She was definitely going to come home with lots of snacks and first aid materials. As the door closed behind her Dustin stared at me until we heard her car pull out of the driveway. 

“What happened? Don’t even try to pull that shit that it was only a bike crash that you pulled with Mom. I know you didn’t look this bad after you crashed,” Dustin demanded more seriously than I had ever heard him. 

“I fell,” I stated as I began returning to my room. I could hear Dustin follow me as I entered my room. He stood at my door as I struggled to lie in my bed. “I’m tired and I had a really shitty night can you please let me sleep?”

“Do you promise to tell me later?” He bargained. 

“Yes. If anyone calls tell them I am sick.” With that, he left me to fall into a dreamless sleep in the safety of my room. 

“Halle. Halle, baby. You gotta wake up,” Mom instructed presenting a plate of eggs benedict. 

“Thank you,” I smiled with heavy eyes taking the warm plate.

“I was thinking that I want you to take the old Volkswagen when you are ready to go to school again. Taking you and Dustin, okay? I don’t want you riding your bike when you are still healing. If you are responsible, you can continue to drive it once you are better. That means no more instances like before. If Hopper even mentions you speeding you will lose car privileges again, understood?”

“Yes.”

That night I couldn’t sleep despite being tired. My mind kept flashing back to how I was positive a Demogorgon was chasing me. There had been nothing there, my brain simply decided it would play a Halloween prank on me and got lost in it. It felt like I was losing my mind. My brain lost the line between reality and fiction. 

Slowly I made my way to Dustin’s room, who was asleep at this time. Making my way to his bed I gently shook him awake. 

“What?” he replied half asleep. 

“Can I sleep in here? I’ll sleep on the floor. I just really don’t want to be alone right now,” my voice was still rough from the previous night breaking off at random places. 

“You can’t sleep on the floor. You won’t be able to get up. We will just sleep in your room,” he offered standing up and grabbing his pillow and blankets. 

Silently he settled onto the floor next to my bed. I stared at the ceiling as Mews jumped on my bed and curled up against my legs.

“I think there is something wrong with me. I’m losing it. I can’t tell what is real anymore,” I confessed. “I thought I was being chased by a Demogorgon last night, but there was nothing there. It was like I was right back in the middle school that night. I could hear those people from the lab, their screams, and their bullets. The sound of the Demogorgon. But I was all alone… there was nothing there.”

“Maybe it was your mind trying to protect you. Maybe there was something even if it wasn’t from the Upside Down.”

“But what if there wasn’t? What if it happens again, and this time in front of others? What if I am going crazy?”

“Then the rest of us will go crazy with you,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I suppose he was right. We had all been through the same event. It would only make sense that we all suffered lingering effects the same.  “I found a new species yesterday.”

“You did? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I named him D'Artagnan. I call him Dart for short. I think he is some kind of terrestrial pollywog. I’ll show you him tomorrow and maybe we can get some books from the library.”

...

Dart was the most disgusting creature I had ever seen. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t have eyes or that he looked like a slug, but the slime. The mucus coating was cold, sticky, and smelt bizarre.  I am all for animal protection, but if Dustin wasn’t obsessed with Dart I would have flushed him down the toilet. So I went along with it.

Continue Reading: archiveofourown.org

[writing-good-vibes]

in the back of his mom's mercury

after all this time, anna finally writes a corey x reader fic !! you know when you just get a single scenario stuck in your head. no plot, no nothing, just vibes? that's what this is. also this is somehow the second round of car sex i've written for corey, i guess he just lends himself to that sort of thing.

WARNING for smut (not particularly explicit), f!reader, car sex, inexperience but not first time, post-accident but pre-michael corey, smoking (corey, not reader) and very vague mentions of child abuse (joan cunningham hate club).

taglist: @slutforstabbings (if anyone else wants to be tagged in corey related things, just let me know !!)

"I dunno if we should be doing this," Corey whispers, hesitating at the curb.

"It's okay, she won't even notice," you promise, turning back from where you were already halfway around the hood of Corey's mom's car. Weaving your fingers together with his, you make him look at you. "You deserve to live a little, Core."

Corey does look at you, squeezing your hand. But with his free hand he worries the ridged edge of the car keys. Is he really going to do this? His momma would throw a fit if she found out what he was doing; is it really, really worth it?

You squeeze his hand back, you have that patient look on your face. You weren't going to make him do anything, you never did. Since the moment he met you on his first day at the call centre, you were the only one who'd been friendly with him straight away. People tended to give him a wide berth these days, which he preferred to the alternative of people saying the all nasty things they're thinking to his face. But not you. No, you'd talked to him between calls, gave him pointers about the software system when he was too nervous to go and ask his supervisor about it again. You showed him where you bought your coffee in the morning and you always hung out together on your lunch breaks. Even when he moved on to Prevo after begging Ronald to give him a job (he'd do all the grunt work, he promised, he just needed something manual to do instead of sat behind that desk all day), you'd kept in touch, saying he was more than just a work friend.

You're definitely worth it, he decides, unlocking his mom's Mercury and getting in the drivers seat.

Corey got his licence back in high school drivers ed, but his momma barely ever let him drive her car, so he'd not had a lot of practice since the day he passed his test. His momma was the worst backseat driver too -- "Corey, check your mirrors," "Watch that pothole," "Careful, Corey, that maniac's about to pull out in front of us". Even when she did let him behind the wheel, and he could count on both hands the times she'd let him drive them home from the grocery store, he ends up wishing she hadn't bothered.

The streets were almost empty as you drove through town. You watched Corey, watched as the street lights illuminated the look of concentration on his face before you passed into another pocket of darkness. There was something in the air that you couldn't quite put your finger on, beneath the almost solemn feeling of being the only two souls in town, there was a tangible sense of good old-fashioned mischief.

You'd brought some CDs along, almost every mix you'd ever burned, so you didn't have to put the radio on. Before meeting Corey, you didn't mind WURG, you kind of liked the variety of genres, and Willy was a character -- he made for good entertainment. After the accident though, Willy's conspiracies about it felt heartless. And once you met Corey in person, eyes fliting nervously around the office while DeVon showed him around on his first day, you knew you'd never listen to another word out of Willy's mouth. Flicking through your collection, you settle on one of your most recent playlists, and the car's built in CD player receives the disc shakily. You keep the volume low so it doesn't distract Corey's focus.

Lover's Lane was on the edge of town, past the rail road and down a gravel track. Without the headlights of the Mercury, you'd be swallowed into the pitch black night. Above the treeline, the radio tower blinks in the distance. There wasn't much of a view from here beyond the cracked dirt, even with headlights still on.

Corey puts the car into park and leans back in his seat. He keeps his hands on the wheel, unsure what he'd do with them if he let go.

Slowly, like you think you might startle Corey otherwise, you reach over and turn the volume up a few notches now, just to set the mood.

Corey's always hesitant to make the first move, no matter how clear you make it that you want him too. That's okay though, you'd seen first hand how difficult Corey found socialising. It was like he was always waiting for the punchline to a joke he didn't understand and didn't trust that the punchline wasn't, in fact, himself.

You place your hand over his on the wheel, wiggling your fingers until he lets you link yours between his. He loosens his grip, turning his palm over so you can hold his hand properly.

"Are you going to kiss me?" you ask, giving him the permission he needs.

He grins, small at first, then spreading wide to dimple his cheeks. He lets out a huffing little laugh, before his lips meet yours.

There's a giddiness to his kissing, the way his hands wander and he hums happily. You've noticed before that he gets like this, drawn out of his torturous echo chamber and caught up instead in the fun of fooling around. In the juvenile counting of bases and mumbled daydreams between stolen cigarette kisses.

"C'mon," you murmur against his lips before you manage to pull yourself away. You smile at him, climbing over the centre console and into the back seat.

Corey follows, his nervous energy having dissipated with his need to keep touching you, and have you keep touching him.

Safely in the backseat, Corey's hands gravitate to your waist, holding you there as your lips reconnect. Soft breaths warming the both of you between open mouthed kisses.

You fumble with Corey's jeans, in no rush to jump ahead as you finally pop the button and unzip his fly. His hips buck as your hand brushes over his briefs.

One of Corey's hands drifts beneath your shirt, tracing along your spine, feeling the blemishes of your back before his thick finger slide work their way beneath the band of your bra. He's hit or miss with how quickly he can unhook it, but he manages it this time. The fastening pings undone, letting the straps slip down your shoulders.

Pulling away feels like an impossible ask, so you stay as close as possible, sharing the same shaky breaths with Corey as you both scrabble to get out of your shirts.

When you're half bare, you latch back onto Corey; lips on lips, chest to chest. He whimpers into your mouth when you palm his bulge, hard and leaking, over his underwear.

All hope of going slow, of making this last, go out the window when you finally -- finally -- wrap your hand around him. All of a sudden it's nothing but heat and want and wetness. He yanks you into his lap, work-rough hands hot on your hips. Jeans come off, dropped into the footwell. His hand goes to your panties, drenching his fingers in slick as you rock against him, and it's not enough. It's not enough -- never enough -- because you can never get enough of Corey.

"Oh fuck," he groans, when he's finally inside you. His arms hug your waist, clinging hopelessly as he gets lost in you, lost in the paradise he can only find between your legs. Corey holds you like you're the last temptation, and he knows without a doubt that he'll never, ever be saved.

Corey leans against the trunk while he smokes (if he does it in the car, his momma is sure to know, he claims), his face rosy in the cherry red glow of his cigarette. His jeans, unbuttoned and a size too big for him anyway, hang low on his hips.

He smokes all the way down to the filter before flicking the butt away, the ember burning bright for just a second before it goes out against the dirt.

Later, when you drive home, you'll roll all the windows down.

[sssammich]

i’m gonna ask you the same set: 25, 27, 28

lmao ok bestie let's see what we come up with. i'm gonna stick to supergirl since that's what we share with each other

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

i have a few, so i'm gonna share.

in evergreen, lena gets a cupcake for herself every year after supergirl drops it off the first time. it's a little secret that she has with herself. she stops getting one when kara returns to her life.

in come what may, kara asked lucy lane for suggestions of dance studios who gave dancing lessons

in the rojarias no strings attached fic, andrea smokes virginia slims but veronica likes to smoke camel brand LOL

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

most stressful, recently? god, probably ruby. writing children are not my strength. beyond her, i would say alex actually. i just don't know which way i want to write her in, so that makes me stumble on her. after not for nothing, i don't really use her for that reason.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

lol oh i love writing kara, actually. because she's a little terrible which means a lot of good potential to explore. and so she's just so easy to kind of write around. in the way that i sometimes don't know how to write her like her sister, the difference is i enjoy the challenge of figuring her out and trying to stick the landing.

ask meme

[fireinmywoods]

fic: the polished surface of our being [1/3]

“Where the hell are you?”

“Kinda busy right now,” Jim says, his voice tinny over the comm channel, crackling with static. “Can we save the yelling for later? Pretty sure it’ll keep till after none of us are being hunted for sport.”

The moments that never happened. Teen, ~5k.

MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SMOKE IN EVERY LANE. Please read the main story first.

[read on AO3]

[one-winged-dirty-dreams]

Fast Lane

ship: every dog has his day (Cygnus x Gallagher) source: Honkai Star Rail word count: 1701

i decided to write the 'fucking in the car' fic anyway, everyone thank bee for indirectly helping me make that decision akjshg

tag list: @thebeedroomhymns @alluredbyalatus @kylars-submissive @modena-afterdark

If not for the contents of the car that pulled up right in front of him, Gallagher would have been disappointed that he hadn’t had the time to finish his smoke. Nicotine addictions had nothing on the addictive substance in that very vehicle. 

He eagerly dropped his cigarette, crushing it beneath his heel as he opened the back door and took a seat right next to his sweetest vice. 

“Hi…” Cygnus breathed, immediately dreamy-eyed at Gallagher’s arrival. His heart had been pounding since they had arrived on this street alone, and the sight of him, the feel of his body in the seat next to him had him breathless with affection.

“Hey, doll,” Gallagher responded with an equally affectionate but smug smirk. Every time he displayed those canines of his, Cygnus went weak.

Immediately, Cygnus leaned his head against Gallagher’s shoulder, a soft, content hum escaping him.

“Missed you…” he mumbled as the driver pulled out onto the road.

Every time Cygnus got all touchy and clingy, Gallagher thrived. He loved it, the way Cygnus wanted to be so close to him. Indulging him, the generous man that he was, his arm came around to pull Cygnus even tighter against him.

“Missed you too,” Gallagher replied in a low tone, his hand coming up to stroke that pretty black hair, “Been thinkin’ about you every day.”

Cygnus practically swooned into his chest, closing his eyes and taking a deep, content breath in before a smile found its way to his face.

“Were you smoking just now?”

Gallagher let out an amused breath through his nose.

“Just a few drags before you showed up. Why, don’t like it?”

Cygnus shook his head, that adoring smile deepening.

“It’s not that. I don’t like the smell on anyone but you. It suits you…” he answered, removing his head from Gallagher’s chest to fix him with an affectionate smile. 

There they were. 

The ‘I want something’ eyes.

And Gallagher knew EXACTLY what that ‘want’ was.

A chuckle rumbled deep inside his chest, leaning and angling his head so that his lips hovered a few inches from those pristine, pink ones.

“You want a kiss, doll?” His tone was low, sending shivers down Cygnus’s spine, who merely half-lidded his eyes and nodded.

“Mhm…”

“Lemme spoil you a bit, then,” Gallagher rumbled before capturing Cygnus’s lips in a kiss, firm but gentle, not without the potential to intensify if needed. 

As Cygnus tasted Gallagher’s prior but brief cigarette, he all but melted. Disgusted by cigarettes as he usually was, kissing Gallagher after a smoke made him tingle in ways that were beyond what the menthol could do.

And Gallagher LOVED it. He could physically feel the way Cygnus was losing himself, the way he needed this kiss more than he needed to breathe. ‘Spoil him,’ Gallagher was going to do more than just that.

He applied more pressure with his lips, his tongue traced across Cygnus’s bottom lip before the sound of someone clearing their throat came from the front seat, Cygnus’s driver reminding them both that he was still there.

Immediately, but with great reluctance, Cygnus pulled away, his face flushed from both the kiss and the embarrassment of being caught like a high schooler behind the bleachers. 

“S-Sorry Luys…” he mumbled sheepishly.

Shameless as always, Gallagher merely flashed another toothy, dog-like grin at Cygnus. “It’s alright, doll. We’re just gettin’ a little carried away is all.”

His attention turned to the driver, offering an altered but still sly grin.

“Sorry bud. You know we just can’t help ourselves.”

“I’ve become aware of that over time, Mister Gallagher,” Luys responded, his tone playing at professional despite being unable to hide the amusement betrayed by his expression. 

Gallagher was loving this, his smirk widening significantly despite Cygnus’s blatant embarrassment. 

“Well forgive us for getting a little carried away in your backseat,” he replied, his hand idly stroking Cygnus’s head.

Luys’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror with an unabashed smile before returning to the road. “I suppose I could look the other way just this once,” he conceded, graciously reaching over to press the button that would close the partition.

Gallagher barked out a laugh before pressing his forehead down against Cygnus’s temple, giving his cheek a quick kiss. His lips lingered, voice low and heavy with implication. “Hear that, doll?”

Cygnus squeaked, face flushed deeply as his heart threatened to leap from his throat. 

“J-Just a few more kisses..! Then we’ll stop…” he gulped, clearly not wanting to stop in the slightest. 

Gallagher’s eyes gleamed with nearly predatory desire, giving Cygnus’s cheek a playful, dog-like nip. How could he deny such a sweet, innocent request?

“Mhhh, just a few more…” he growled in agreement.

As their lips found each other, ‘a few more kisses’ became a relative concept. How many was a few, after all? And who said they had to be vertical? Did a few roaming hands mean anything in the grand scheme of things?

They were just getting into the philosophical meaning of where Gallagher’s leaking bulge pressing against Cygnus’s soaked panties stood conceptually before Gallagher pulled away, panting like a dog in heat. Cygnus’s expression wasn’t much better, eyes hazy and unfocused, hair mussed and face burning. Even more fuel to have Gallagher cursing and fumbling with his belt in a desperate mission to pull his length free of his pants, the other hand pushing up Cygnus’s skirt to pull his panties to the side for free access to his pretty little pussy.

“Fuck, look at that,” Gallagher groaned, setting his jaw at the sight of all that goddamn arousal sticking to everything above where the hem of Cygnus’s skirt had been. “Mhhh, the ones I’ve been kissing aren’t the only pretty little lips that can make me feel good, huh doll?”

Cygnus could hardly respond, the quickly fogging windows a testament to how heated he was becoming. 

“Can’t talk? Those lips ain’t just for kissin’, are they doll?” Gallagher teased, a soft grunt leaving him as he stroked his aching cock for just a modicum of relief. “What do you want, sweetheart? Only got so much time before we get where we’re going. We’re in the fast lane now, baby.”

“Oh Aeons, please…!” Cygnus whined as Gallagher gave him a bit of incentive, lining his length up with Cygnus’s wet heat.

“Please?” Gallagher rasped, the head of his shaft barely dipping past Cygnus’s folds into the shallow part of his entrance. “Please what, use your wor- FUCK!” 

A quick brake jolted the both of them, sending Gallagher crashing onto Cygnus and forcing a good couple inches of his cock inside all at once. The way Cygnus cried out in sudden satisfaction had Gallagher clenching his eyes shut and biting his lip, Luys’s apologetic knock on the partition rubbing salt in the wound.

“Fuck it. Fast lane,” Gallagher growled, making good on his promise to spoil Cygnus by filling him with a firm thrust.

High speed merging indeed.

The resulting indulgence caused a cacophony of moaning from both of them, cries and curses filling the back of the car in equal measure. 

Cygnus’s head dipped back on the seat, pressing against the side of the door as his fingers grappled for anything he could hold onto.

Gallagher had a bit tougher of a time, trying to keep himself positioned between the awkward way Cygnus had spread his legs to accommodate him. His knees pressed into the expensive leather seats, his hands gripping at Cygnus’s hips.

“Mhph, tight squeeze, huh doll?” Gallagher grunted with a seductive smirk, leaving the context open to interpretation. Not bothering to wait for an answer, he pulled his hips back and then jerked them forward in one fluid motion. 

Cygnus wouldn’t answer, too senseless with pleasure to speak. His head was spinning, the feeling of the car moving blending with the way Gallagher jerked him back and forth with the force of his thrusts. 

“Gonna cum!” was all he could really bring himself to articulate, his head tilted back and his back arched, just the prettiest little sight. Far better a view than what was outside those fogged up windows. 

“Oh, that’s it…! Mh, good fucking boy, better cum before this car stops, you hear?” Gallagher chuckled, his breath hot against the Cygnus’s throat as he gave another one of those playful little nips. “Wanna feel you cum around my cock while we’re still moving.”

“Gallagher!” Cygnus practically squealed, his fingernails scraping loudly against the leather seats. 

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, that’s it,” Gallagher repeated, a mantra to build up that hot tension coiling in his pelvis, stoking the flames for something explosive. 

“Cumming! Oh Aeons, I’m cumming!” Cygnus DID squeal this time. Writhing was difficult with the limited space provided, but that only trapped him into violently bucking against Gallagher, much to their mutual delight. 

Similarly, the mutual pleasure of an orgasm exploding through Cygnus triggered Gallagher’s own release. He was never immune to the instantaneous reaction to the feeling of those tight walls fluttering around his cock. 

“Oh FU- Doll you’re…!” Gallagher grunted, panting, drooling a little bit, probably. It felt like a Stellaron had exploded in him, and Cygnus doubtless felt similarly from the hot bursts of cum being emptied into his fuckhole. 

Based on the whines, that is. Gallagher half felt the need to check if Cygnus had cum so hard he was crying. Again.

It was a miracle neither of them cramped anywhere based on the awkward position and the tension of their bodies going rigid with pleasure. 

It was utterly cliche, the way they both practically went limp in time to the car stopping outside the theater.

Oh. That’s right.

This was supposed to be a dress rehearsal.

Luys once again knocked on the partition. 

“Sirs, I can only avert my attention for so long. If you don’t mind, I’d like to clean the seats before anything sets in.”

Cygnus groaned and covered his face as the post-passion reality set in. Gallagher gave a breathless laugh. Such an innocent little bird. 

Looking up, he knocked on the partition in return.

“Arriving on time, eh? I’ll have to rate this trip… five stars.”