#so we will move forward one step at a time!!

[favefandomimagines]

loml (r.c)

SEASON 4 PART 2 SPOILERS!!!!

Request: @motherlanaenthusiast “So what if we do a Rafe x Maybank!reader where like maybe she was in morocco but she wasn’t with JJ when he died cuz she was doing smthn else so like they all have to break the news and that happens and then when like after when they’re back at Kildare Rafe like gets deja vu from s1&2 him because he sees reader going kinda crazy”

Summary: Rafe is the only person to save Y/N from a downward spiral.

AN: I will NEVER forgive the writers for this lol I went on a tangent with this one

The sun was blistering and casting a golden hue over the winding alleyways in Morocco. Rafe Cameron and Y/N Maybank moved through the maze of alleyways, their steps quick and purposeful, yet filled with a tension that spoke of something much deeper than their immediate surroundings.

Y/N was JJ Maybank’s twin sister, a spitfire with a wild heart who had once been the center of Rafe’s secret world. The two had shared a tumultuous fling, a secret affair that had started four years ago under the cover of darkness and ended just as abruptly. It was a relationship neither had ever fully acknowledged. Rafe was a Kook, while Y/N, like her brother JJ, was a Pogue, tale as old as time.

The shop was quiet, the group off to Charleston to follow the next clue. Y/N stayed behind to wait for her brother after he had wandered off “running errands.” The bell above the door jingled, and the soft sound broke through the silence.

Y/N was leaning against the counter, staring at her phone screen, scrolling through all the unread text messages to her brother.

"How can I help you?" she asked absently, not looking up from her phone.

She looked up and her breath got caught in her throat, the smile on Rafe Cameron's face grating against the air. He stood at the entrance, hands tucked casually in his pockets, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, though the familiar tension in her chest began to build. She’d never been able to shake the feeling of unease around him. Not since everything went down with Pope, the fight that ended whatever it was they had.

"Can't I just stop by and visit my local surf and bait shop?" Rafe said, taking a step inside, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You looking for Sarah?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, yeah. I'm looking for Sarah."

She shook her head, setting the phone down with a soft click. "She doesn’t want to talk to you."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk still in place. "I think I can have a chat with my sister whenever I want."

"Not if she doesn't want to talk to you." Her words were firm, but there was a slight quiver in her voice that betrayed her more complicated feelings.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter as he took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them. He placed his elbows on the counter, leaning in closer, the sudden proximity catching her off guard.

"I'm sorry about the drama at the beach the other day," he said, his voice lowering in an almost sincere tone. "With Ruthie and the turtles."

She didn’t respond right away, trying to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the weight of his words, but it didn’t change anything. Rafe was sorry—sorry for the mess he had created, maybe, but never for the things that had truly mattered.

"Don’t act like you care, Rafe," she replied, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "You only care about how things affect you. And I guess now Sofia."

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze growing intense. The years of tension between them seemed to hang in the air, unresolved and unspoken. Then he said, his tone soft but firm, "We used to be so close, Y/N. What happened?"

She sucked in a breath, trying to push down the anger, the hurt, the past. "The drugs happened," she said slowly, her voice low. "Ward happened. Your anger happened."

His eyes darkened for a second, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it just as quickly. After a long, weighted silence, he took a half step back, his expression softening, just a little.

"I’m on your side, you know," he said quietly, the words almost a whisper, as though they were too important to rush. "I always have been."

The words hung between them, charged and heavy with meaning. She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known what to say to Rafe since the day he’d walked away, leaving everything torn apart in his wake.

Before she could respond, Rafe straightened, brushing his hand across his forehead as if clearing his thoughts. He turned toward the door, his back to her now. "I’ll be seeing you around," he muttered over his shoulder, the door swinging open as he left without another word.

Now, as they weaved through the ancient Moroccan city, they were older, scarred by the years of treasure hunts, betrayals, and broken friendships.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Y/N said, stopping suddenly, her dark eyes scanning the shadowed alleyways. She had always been the one with the sixth sense, the one who could feel trouble like a storm on the horizon.

Rafe turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

But before she could answer, they heard Kiara’s voice, shrill and desperate, cutting through the noise of the bustling market.

“Y/N! John B! Pope!”

Y/N’s heart seized in her chest, and without another word, she took off in the direction of Kiara's cries, Rafe hot on her heels. They rounded a corner and found Kiara kneeling on the cobblestones, her face pale and streaked with tears. And lying there, motionless, was JJ.

“No, no, no,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees beside her brother. Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch JJ’s face, his skin already growing cold under her fingertips.

“JJ, please,” she begged, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t leave me. You promised.” She cried.

But there was no response, no flicker of life in those familiar blue eyes. It felt like the world had been ripped out from under her, like the ground had opened up to swallow her whole. Rafe stood behind her, his face pale, his fists clenched at his sides.

The group stood stunned, no one wanting to be the one to move. But they were in a busy, bustling city with a dead body. People would ask questions. “W-We have to get him out of here.” John B stammered. He moved to reach for Y/N, attempting to pry her off of her brother’s body.

Y/N fought against him, muttering things like ‘I’m not leaving him’ or ‘he can’t be alone.’ Rafe takes over for John B and has to use his strength to pull her up to her feet. He held her in his arms, close to his chest to avoid having to see her two best friends moving her brother.

At that moment, all he could really do was hold her.

||

Months had passed since that horrible day in Morocco, but for Y/N, time had ceased to exist. She was back in Kildare, but it was as if she was still stuck in that dark alleyway, kneeling beside her brother’s lifeless body.

Sarah Cameron was heavily pregnant, as she prepared for the birth of her first child with John B. It was supposed to be a time of joy and new beginnings, but the shadow of JJ’s death loomed over them all.

Y/N had fallen into a downward spiral, her grief consuming her. She drank herself into oblivion every night, stumbling through the streets of Kildare like a ghost. She would disappear for days, only to be found passed out on the beach or in the hammock outside her house. The Pogues tried to help her, but she pushed them all away, lost in her own pain.

Sarah had told Rafe about Y/N, how she was drowning in guilt for not being there when JJ had died. The words had hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own spiral years ago, before his father had dragged him into the hunt for the Royal Merchant’s gold.

He couldn’t let that happen to Y/N. He wouldn’t. He loved her even if he couldn’t admit it.

So he found himself standing on the porch of the Maybank house, staring at the peeling paint on the front door. John B’s van was parked out front, and Rafe assumed he was there trying to talk some sense into Y/N.

A part of him thought ‘oh John B is here, I can come back later.’ But he couldn’t walk away, not this time.He’s walked away from her too many times.

He knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the early afternoon. John B opened the door, his face drawn and tired. “Sarah’s not here.” He told Rafe. “I’m not here for Sarah. I’m here for Y/N.” Rafe answered.

“She’s not doing well, man,” John B said, his voice low. “We don’t know what else to do. I think... I think she feels guilty for not being with JJ when it happened.”

Rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “Let me talk to her.”

John B hesitated but finally stepped aside, letting Rafe through. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had always surrounded JJ.

Rafe walked down the hall to Y/N’s bedroom, the same room he used to sneak into all those years ago. All of the memories came flooding back as he stopped in front of the door. Nights that ended tangled up in her sheets. Other nights where she just wanted to be held after a fight with her dad.

Rafe pushed the door open to find her cocooned under the comforter, a bottle of vodka sitting on her nightstand.

“JB, please go away,” she mumbled, her voice raw and hoarse. Rafe assumed from a mixture of alcohol and crying.

“Not John B,” Rafe said softly.

Y/N stiffened, slowly emerging from under the covers, moving to sit up against her headboard. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like a shadow of the girl he once knew.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m worried about you,” Rafe said, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Apparently everyone is,” she muttered, her eyes flicking away from him.

There was a heavy silence, the kind that was filled with all the things they had left unsaid for so many years. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“Y/N... I know what it’s like to lose yourself,” he began, his voice steady. “I know what it’s like to drown. I was there once, you know that. Hell, I’m still trying to crawl my way out.”

She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. “He was always afraid to be alone, and I left him alone,” she choked out. “I should have been there. I should have protected him.”

Rafe’s heart broke at the raw pain in her voice. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Y/N. JJ wouldn’t want that.”

“How would you know?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You never cared about him. About me.”

The words were like a slap in the face, but Rafe took it, knowing she was lashing out from a place of deep hurt. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t care about JJ, and I pushed everyone away. But I always cared about you. And I don’t want to lose you to this, Y/N. I can’t.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Rafe.” Y/N muttered. “No but you’re the person I love.” Rafe replied. “You can’t say things like that.” She practically snapped. “Why not? You used to beg me to tell you how I felt and I finally am. I’m sorry it came so late and it’s happening because of this but I’ll be damned if another person I love gets hurt because I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Rafe told her.

She stared at him, the anger draining from her eyes, leaving only exhaustion. “I don’t know how to come back from this,” she whispered.

“Let me help you,” Rafe said, his voice breaking. “Please. Let me be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

There was a long pause, and then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.

“I’ll try,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll try to get better.”

“And I’ll be here,” Rafe promised, reaching out to take her hand. “Through it all. I’m not going anywhere.”

||

A year had passed since that day in Morocco. The sun was shining over the Outer Banks, the salty breeze carrying the sound of laughter and the distant crash of waves. The Pogues had gathered for a special occasion, a day of celebration and new beginnings.

Sarah and John B’s son, Jackson, was turning one today, and they were throwing a beach party in his honor. Y/N stood on the edge of the gathering, watching as Sarah bounced her son on her hip, his tiny hands reaching for the birthday cake.

Y/N was sober, clear-eyed, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again. She had fought her way out of the darkness with Rafe by her side, and though the pain of losing her brother would never fully fade, she was learning to live with it.

Rafe approached her, a soft smile on his lips. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I think I am.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

She leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the lingering shadows. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

Rafe smiled down at her before she moved up on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, Rafe.” She spoke quietly. “I love you too.” He replied.

They stood there together, watching as their friends celebrated a new chapter of their lives, a chapter filled with hope and healing.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N believed that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…

[cobaltperun]

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do a bottom Tara x top g!p female reader fic?!

where Tara and reader are dating but when sam finds out she forbids reader to come over to their apartment the only time they see each is in college. So T and R are texting 24/7 and one evening things get a little spicy like they start sexting ig sending stuff too each other (if you get what I mean) then Tara decides to sneak out because she's missing reader (vice versa) and goes to reader's apartment and they do it for the first time also could it be soft smut and some aftercare maybe. It's just T and R being gay af!

You don't have to do this btw thanks either way!Bye have a good day/night :)

Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 4.9k

“You are what?!” the scream Sam let out echoed through the apartment making absolutely everyone present, you and Tara included, flinch. This was not the reaction you hoped for, though Tara did warn you it would probably be like this. You had no idea how bad it would get.

“We are dating,” Tara repeated and you could tell by the way she reached out and grabbed your hand that she desperately needed to feel your touch to calm down. How could Sam not see that? See beyond the fact that she herself didn’t know you?

“Absolutely not! Tara you met her what? A month ago?” Sam was not accepting this at all. You could see the fury in her eyes as she looked at you as if you immediately threatened to hurt her sister. You knew what the reason was and you definitely couldn't blame her for it. But it still hurt to see she didn't trust Tara's judgment. Tara was an adult. She went through even more than Sam did and she just wanted to live her life, which included falling in love and dating, and you hoped one day moving in with you so you could build your future together.

Yeah. You were whipped.

“Four months, actually,” Tara rolled her eyes. The two of you met in college on the first day. You sat next to each other and immediately got along and fast forward three months, some time after she had opened up to you about how she was attacked and nearly killed by one of her closest friends, she just asked you out and you accepted it. You definitely developed a crush on her a lot sooner than that, and while that wasn't important at the moment you really believed Tara knew that all along. She just had a way of knowing just how you felt about her, in her own words, you were an open book in her eyes.

“That's not nearly long enough,” Sam pointed the finger at you, the fury in her eyes not fading even slightly.

“Hey, Sam wait!” Tara tried to stop her sister, but it was too late.

“Out right now. If I ever see you close to Tara things will not end well for you,” you had no doubts about just how serious Sam was and you saw Tara’s jaw dropping.

“What the fuck Sam?!” Tara screamed at her sister and quickly turned to you as you got up. “No this isn't what I want!” she jumped to her feet after you and stepped in front of you. “Hey, just listen to me, this isn't what I want,” it hurt you to see her like this, in pain and afraid, and her eyes already filling with tears.

For the first time since you came to the apartment you glared at Sam.

“Come on Sam give it girl a chance,” Chad tried to get her to see reason but a single glare shut him down.

“I will not risk Tara's safety,” Sam would not listen, in fact, she stood up as if to show you the way out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Tara grabbed onto your hand to keep you from leaving, tears were falling down her face.

“I don't want this, please,” her hands trembled as she said that and for a moment you stopped glaring at Sam.

Your eyes softened and you gently brushed the tears off Tara’s face. “I know you,” whispered and leaned down to kiss her, Sam be damned. Tara relaxed into the kiss, realizing you weren’t going to leave her, and she kissed your back and poured all of her love into that one single kiss. When you separated you turned to Sam returning her glare without flinching for a single moment.

Sam was intimidating there was no doubt about it, but this was a lot more important. “You can try all you want, Sam, you will not scare me away. Got it? Drop the protective big sister bullshit because no one gets to make my girlfriend cry. Not even you,” the temperature in the room dropped when you said that and you could tell everyone just got on the verge of running away and you could not blame them.

Sam looked even more furious, she looked ready to spit fire and rain hell upon you, but you stood your ground. And to make your defiance even more clear you stepped around Tara and faced her sister head on with nothing blocking her path.

Sam remained silent for now, just glaring at you and you nodded, feeling like this ended about as well as it could. “Glad that's clear, I’ll see you later Sam,” you made your point clear, there was no reason to stick around because hanging out with Tara at this point, in this situation and in their apartment wouldn’t do any good for anyone, you and Tara especially.

~X~

She absolutely won the lottery. She would never try to even purchase a ticket because all her luck was just spent on getting the most amazing, badass girlfriends she could ever hope for. Did the way you talked back to Sam make her wet? Yes, yes it did.

Would she have gone to her room to handle that if everyone else still wasn’t at the apartment? Yes, she would have.

Would she do it tonight? Absolutely.

~X~

After what happened last week you and Tara kept seeing each other only at college, and that, more often than not, led to both of you just ditching the classes and getting coffee and croissants from a local bakery you both loved to visit. You did not expect that single decision to haunt you for the rest of the week. You both thought you were just that slick about it as you skipped several classes over the past week just so you spend time together and act like an actual couple instead of two people hiding from the world.

The world in this case being Tara's sister.

If Tara started failing classes because of her absence, well, that would be entirely on Sam.

~X~

Tara should have seen the trouble coming from a mile away. She just had too much fun today, walking with you in the park, grabbing breakfast, you even managed to catch a movie, and it was actually a good one! And to make things even better Tara couldn't keep her hand away from your own, constantly holding it as you went from one place to another.

And then the world just turned against her. She opened the doors and saw Sam expecting her with a stern look on her face, and arms crossed, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

She was in so much trouble.

“You were with her, weren't you?” well she couldn't exactly confess, so she would at least try to deny it. What were the chances that Sam had an actual proof Tara skipped classes with you?

“We were catching up on some lesson we missed, so classes got extended,” Tara lied a bit easier than she thought she would, but she figured the habits she picked up on while she was living with her mother were difficult to get rid of.

“Do not lie to me, Tara!” she flinched at Sam’s shout. “I went to pick you up and you weren't there. And when I asked your classmates if you even came to the classes, they told me neither of you showed up today!” Tara was caught pretty much red-handed and Sam knew it.

Tara sighed and sat down across the table. “You can't expect me to break up with her, Sam. I love her!” she was getting frustrated by Sam's behavior. Why couldn't her sister just let her go, just let her live her own life.

“Tara, you don't love her, you don't even know her properly! She could be dangerous,” this paranoia had to stop, because Sam saw everyone that tried to approach Tara as an enemy, as someone Tara needed protection from.

“Sam do you hear yourself?” Tara couldn’t deal with it anymore. “We are living with Quinn and she keeps bringing random guys to the apartment! Any one of them could be as psycho that just gets up one night and kills all three of us. You don't know those guys, yet you let Quinn bring them along!” Terra pointed out, exasperated by Sam not being able to see logic in her words, more importantly she was furious because Sam wouldn't trust her judgment.

She knew you. She had complete trust in you. And she got betrayed in a worse way than Sam did, after all while Richie was Sam’s boyfriend, Amber has been Tara’s friend for over a decade by that point.

“That isn't how Ghostface works and you know that,” Sam argued back. Ghostface this, Ghostface that. Tara was getting sick of it.

How could Sam not see it? “Ghostface isn't the only psycho, Sam! I can't live my life fearing that anyone I meet is going to turn out to be a psychotic killer. I want to live Sam, I fell in love and I want to enjoy that! I want to be with Y/N!” she desperately hoped Sam would just for once listen to her.

Yet Sam acted like a broken record. “We don't know her,” and Tara knew it wouldn’t matter how long you spent trying to get Sam’s trust. Sam would never know you ‘well enough’, Sam wouldn’t even try to get to know you.

“So what? I'm just supposed to fall in love with Chad? Because who else is left?” Tara demanded, but she might as well be talking in an entirely different language.

“This conversation is over, you’re grounded for a week,” Sam stood up and stormed into her room, leaving utterly flabbergasted Tara alone.

What a great way to spend the week off from classes.

~X~

Five days, that’s how long this torture’s been going on and Tara felt like she was about to lose her mind. And she was supposed to last an entire week?! The remaining two days felt like they would never end because each day seemed to drag out more than the previous one, even witconstant texting between the two of you. She turned in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and her bed showed it. Messy twisted blanket, crumpled sheets, her head resting only on the corner of her pillow as she once again got on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam was being unfair. Mindy had Anika, her and Sam were living with Quinn, who they didn’t know beforehand, and Tara was sure Sam had something going on with that Danny guy, and Chad was also occasionally flirting with girls! She was the only one who couldn’t have what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed and she immediately scrambled out of the blankets to take it. Curse her battery for needing to be charged! Tara quickly unlocked her phone and saw the message was from you.

Y/N: You need to see this!

Underneath it she saw the cutest Instagram reel of a puppy surrounded by ducklings.

Tara: 😍😍😍 They are so cute!

Your answer was immediate.

Y/N: Not as cute as certain someone, but it’ll have to do 😉

Tara fell back on her bed, a ridiculously wide smile already making its way to her face. Fuck, she missed you so much. ‘Yeah? Certain someone?’ she replied and her breath hitched when you sent her a selfie wearing a very soft looking shirt and grinning at her, and all of that could be manageable, if only Tara’s eyes didn’t immediately go to your lips and she realized it’s been way too long since she got to kiss you. She needed to feel your lips on her own, on her neck, on… fuck, what if you went lower. She bit her lower lip, studying your face, imagining your smiles, the way you looked at her.

Y/N: Tara? Baby? You’ve left me on seen for five minutes

That message temporarily snapped her out of her daydreaming. Or would it be nightdreaming? She never really thought of the logic behind the word. And she was desperately trying to ignore the desire gradually, scratch that, rapidly building inside of her.

Tara: I miss you

She finally replied and glanced back at your selfie as you typed the response.

Y/N: I kiss you too

Y/N (edited): I miss you too

Tara burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. ‘I saw it! Can’t take it back!’ she replied only to barely hold her laughter back when you just replied with ‘Shit.’ She smiled fondly, taking pity on you.

Tara: I want to kiss you too, so, so bad. I keep thinking about it and other things all the time

There, she confessed, knowing you were still prone to getting embarrassed and all shy about how affectionate Tara could get. Randomly kissing your cheek or hugging you when she knew you least expected was easily her favorite thing to do. The clear embarrassment on your face and the hitched breath, and especially the way you would freeze for a moment kept Tara entertained.

You had your own ways to mess with her, though she suspected you weren’t doing it on purpose. You would just go ahead and pull her chair out for her to sit, or bring her favorite coffee along when you would meet up and it was really messing her up to feel so cared for after years of neglect. It was yet another reason why she was so mad at Sam because she feared she wouldn’t be able to forgive her sister if Sam’s suspicious nature chased you away.

Y/N: Other things?

Hook, line, and sinker.

Tara opened her camera and switched to video. She winked at it and then turned it lower, to her waist, making sure to capture every detail as she unbuttoned her jeans and just brushed her fingers over the zipper, taunting you. She slowly panned the camera up her body while trailing the path with her hand. “Other things,” she was well aware of the sliver of her skin the camera caught when she pushed her shirt up. “Very specific things,” she whispered as seductively as she could, which, well, she didn’t have experience with seducing people, but she knew she’d get the desired effect with you as her hand brushing between her breasts moved the shirt in a way that emphasized her cleavage. And then she returned the camera to her face to show you she was lightly biting the corner of her lower lip.

She didn’t hesitate one moment before sending it.

You saw the message immediately, yet you didn’t respond, and Tara may have been stuck between getting nervous and completely confident in her charms. Minutes later she finally saw you typing.

Y/N: Tara

She could hear the exasperation in your message, yet she just sent ‘Yes, Baby? 🥺’

Y/N: Look at you acting all innocent

Yeah, she knew she was being rather mischievous. Even more so when she just replied with: ‘But I am all innocent’ she waited a moment, imagining you rolling your eyes and not immediately noticing the word play.

Tara: All innocent and inexperienced, just waiting for you to touch me

She put her phone under her shirt and took a photo, making sure there was just enough light to tease the details of her bra and sent it to you.

Your reply made her squeeze her thighs together. You sent her another photo, this time of you in front of a mirror, your hand covering the bulge in your pants and Tara caught herself wondering, and not for the first time, how big you were.

“Don’t tease me,” she sent you a voice message, whining as she cupped her breast, as her mind created the images of you taking her, fucking her. Instead of a message you actually called her and she resisted cursing because she was about to unzip her jeans and slip her hand inside. “Hey,” she whispered, trying to figure out if she could still do it.

“I’m teasing? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” your voice sounded strained an she knew you were in just as much of a dilemma as she was, only you seemed to be stronger than her, because if she didn’t do something about the lust she felt she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

“I know,” she admitted, biting back a moan as she slipped her hand into her jeans and teased her pussy over her panties. Fuck, she was already wet. “Y/N,” if only you were here with her, touching her, fucking her. “Are you hard?”

“What do you think?” you replied and she knew the answer. “I haven’t seen you in five days and the first thing you send me is that fucking video,” oh, you were cursing. She really got to you and you were definitely getting to her as she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds.

“You started it,” Tara tried to defend herself.

“It was an innocent selfie!” you exclaimed just as she brushed the tip of her finger over her clit.

“Fuck, if we don’t stop neither of us will be innocent by tomorrow morning,” she moaned into the pillow, stuck between the urge to make herself cum and just sneak out and go to you.

“Shit, maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she could hear the faint sound of you stroking your cock and probably would have wondered if you could hear her too, but more importantly she made her decision.

“I’ll be there in ten,” she absolutely despised herself for pulling her hand out of her jeans and ending the call, but she would quickly get rid of that feeling, she just needed to get to you first.

~X~

You met in front of your apartment with Tara immediately jumping into your arms and kissing you, and you found yourself being pushed against the wall next to your doors as she deepened the kiss. “Fuck, finally,” she groaned, pressing her body against yours. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, and you felt her grinding against you, not even waiting to get inside.

The effort it took to actually slow down and take her to your bedroom should be studied, but you couldn’t let your first time be rough and quick. No, Tara deserved a lot more than that. “Easy, Tara, let’s just go inside,” you barely put your hand over your mouth to quiet the moan when she nibbled on your neck.

“I need you,” she whined, but allowed you to pull her into the apartment and toward the bedroom.

“I know, I know, I need you too,” you confessed, uncomfortably hard, and it only got worse when Tara pushed you onto the bed and straddled your lap. “But we can take as much time as we want, just take it slow and enjoy our first time instead of rushing through it.”

She felt it when she jumped into your arms, and now that she was straddling your lap. This was what she wanted for so long, yet now that she was looking at you the words you spoke echoed through her mind. Yeah, she would really enjoy that, just taking things slow for once. Slow and steady.

She leaned down, kissing you softly as she brushed her fingers over the fabric of your shirt, reaching up to your shoulders and squeezing lightly when you wrapped your arms around her. “You sure you’ll be able to hold back,” she asked when she pulled back, you were very hard after all.

You ran your fingers through her hair and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not holding anything back,” you promised and kissed her again. Your lips felt so soft, and Tara moaned, she truly missed this feeling. You slid your hand down to her neck and Tara let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head up and made it easier for you to kiss her neck. This was good, this was familiar. Making out with you always left her needy and this time wasn’t an exception as she felt the heat pooling in her core. “Y-Y/N,” she whimpered when you bit her neck slightly, just the way she liked it and Tara slowly began grinding on you. “Just like that,” she whispered as you dragged your tongue up her neck, soothing the burning skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you were mesmerized by her, captivated by her beauty. Her breathy moans felt like the most beautiful melody ever created and you were the one causing them. You pulled her shirt up just enough to slip your hands underneath it. You felt the slight shiver of her body as she squirmed a bit at your touch.

“Your hands are a bit cold,” she giggled as your fingertips brushed along her sides. “Y/N, that tickles,” she smacked you slightly on the shoulder and saw the grin on your face. “Goofball,” she kissed you quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, only half-serious as Tara sat up and slowly, in the most tormenting, teasing way possible, took her shirt and bra off. “Fuck,” she looked gorgeous and there was no way your eyes weren’t giving your thoughts away because you couldn’t get them off her body.

Tara smiled at that, she’s shown you her scars before, so she wasn’t worried about your reaction, but this? She was definitely getting an ego boost from this reaction, and the way your cock twitched against her pussy. “You want me, Y/N? Take me,” she said it. “Do anything you want with me,” and in return she’d do anything she wanted with you and there were plenty of things she wanted, so many in fact she knew you couldn’t do it all tonight.

You cleared your throat and nodded as you sat up yourself and then flipped the two of you around so you were on top of Tara. You looked her in the eyes as you leaned down and, while cupping her breast, licked her already hard nipple. Tara took your own shirt and bra off and watched you as you sucked on her breast while she ran her fingers through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Her other hand found your breasts and she brushed her thumb against your nipple.

Your tangled bodies moved together. Every touch of your hands left her skin burning, left her body more desperate for your touch, every single brush of your fingers drove her mad with desire. And she still didn’t take her jeans or panties off. Your hand went lower until your fingers tugged at her jeans, teasing her and making her moan. “Need you,” she whispered and felt you nodding as your unzipped her jeans and pulled them down.

“You’re soaking wet,” you grunted as you slowly rubbed her pussy over her panties. Tara dared to believe you could slip your cock inside her without any troubles with how wet she was if only you weren’t so big. You pulled your hand out of her jeans, making her immediately whine.

“Y/N, don’t tease me, please,” she begged, but luckily you just took a moment to take her jeans and panties off and strip the rest of your clothes as well.

“That’s your specialty,” you got back on top of her and pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and if she wasn’t as aroused as she was she would probably be embarrassed at how easily your fingers slipped in. Your fingers felt so good inside her as you continued kissing and caressing her body and Tara lay there, a moaning mess before your cock was even inside her. She reached down and wrapped her hand around your cock, there was precum leaking out of it as she rubbed the tip with her thumb. “Don’t, I won’t last if you do that,” you bit her shoulder a bit rougher than you intended. “I want to cum when I’m inside you,” you said while bringing her close to her orgasm.

“Me too then. Put it in me, I’m ready,” she spread her legs for you and kissed you as you blindly reached for the drawer next to your bed and grabbed the condom on top of it. If she didn’t quite literally tell you you would be having sex she would have teased you, but as it was she just wanted you to put it on and fuck her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” you asked as you lined your cock up with the entrance to her pussy. And oh, she was ready, soaking wet, she probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Tara nodded and kissed you once more as she hugged you tightly. She felt the tip of your cock sliding into her pussy and moaned, breaking the kiss and leaning her head back on your pillow.

“Y- Ah! Y/N!” she cried out your name, her fingertips digging into the back of your head, her back arching as you wrapped one arm around her and used the other to hold onto her hip.

“You’re taking me so well, Tara,” you whispered in her ear and finally, finally, she took all of you. She was close before, but now, feeling this full, she knew she was right on the edge.

You knew you couldn’t last for long like this. Tara’s warm, wet pussy engulfed you and you tried to focus on something else, to prolong this, but there was no way you could do that, so, you moved your hand from her hip to her clit and began rubbing as you slowly began thrusting into her, hoping you could get her to cum before you did. You would hold back until she cums, you promised that to yourself.

“I’m so close,” Tara moaned. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and you immediately complied as you looked into each other’s eyes, your bodies moving in the perfect sync as she began meeting your thrusts. Her orgasm kept building up, slow and steady, like your entire lovemaking was tonight, and with each thrust she could see you were getting close as well. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, no longer conscious of how much time you spent like that. She just knew that at one point she came, loud and hard, as your sweat covered bodies pressed together and she felt you cumming as well with a moan of your own.

She was absolutely spent. Satisfied with this being her first time. There would be other nights or days for longer lovemaking with multiple orgasms. In her head, and she truly hoped, in yours too, this was perfect.

Tara held onto you, feeling happier than she’s been in a long time. The blissful feeling consuming her entirely as you pulled your cock out and she glanced down at the filled condom. Maybe it was just her orgasm affecting her brain but she couldn’t help but think how one day, when you’re both ready, you’ll be cumming deep inside her. “Baby, Y/N,” she hummed as you caught your breath on top of her and she gently scratched the back of your head.

You lowered your head a bit and kissed her shoulder. “You were incredible,” you whispered, peppering her shoulder and the side of her neck with soft butterfly kisses. “Tara,” you whispered her name like it was your own, personal salvation. “I love you so much,” it wasn’t the first time you said those words, but it felt so good to hear them.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she tilted your chin up and kissed you on the lips, just as soft as everything tonight was. “I never thought sex would feel this good,” she admitted. There was no pain, no holding back, it consumed her entirely and all she could feel was your love for her as you took her innocence.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” you rolled onto your back and pulled Tara on top of you so you could rest while still holding her.

Tara had other ideas, turning both of you so you were lying on the side. “There, that’s better,” she whispered and leaned in, closing the distance between you. You would need to get up soon, clean up, take care of the mess you made, but she could bask in your warmth for a bit longer. Especially when you began rubbing her back, soothing her, keeping her feeling good. “I love how gentle and loving you were,” she whispered as she snuggled up to you, aware that, while she did absolutely enjoy the gentle sex she wasn’t opposed to getting a bit rougher sooner or later. She wanted to feel it all with you, to try everything and anything you were both comfortable with.

“It felt right,” you hummed, focusing on holding her and occasionally kissing wherever you could reach at the moment. While Tara showered you with love through words, you preferred touch, and it worked for both of you perfectly. Tara who was starved for touch, you who were starved for words of affirmation, I was a match made in heaven in her mind.

You stayed like that for some time, easily fifteen minutes, if not closer to twenty. Just cuddling and loving one another before you finally went to clean up, not leaving the shared shower until all the hot water had run out.

A/N: Well... Sam may have been a tiny bit over the top/out of character for the sake of the plot 🤣🤣

[save-our-life]

Amidst the destruction, there are still small moments of peace. 🕊️ My cat 🐱 reminds me that even in the darkest times, there’s always something to hold onto. 💫

A smile 🙂 hides the struggles we face daily in Gaza, but our strength remains. 💪

We continue to hope for a better future 🌱, even when the present feels so uncertain. 🌧️

Even in times of war ⚔️, we stay resilient. The weight of the world 🌍 is heavy, but we push forward, standing tall with hope in our hearts. ❤️

Life After the Destruction of My Home 🏚️💔

My life took an unimaginable turn when my home was bombed and reduced to ruins. 🏠💥 The place I once called home, where I shared countless memories with my family, is now nothing but rubble. 🧱

Walls that used to protect us have crumbled, and every corner of the house is filled with shattered dreams and broken belongings. 🖼️🪑💔

Now, I live in a tent, trying to make sense of the pieces of my life that are left. ⛺💔 The cold nights ❄️ and the hot days 🌞 make every moment in this tent a struggle.

There is no comfort, no privacy, and no sense of safety. 🥀 Every day, I wake up hoping for peace 🕊️, for a chance to rebuild, but right now, that hope seems distant.

This experience has taught me about the fragility of life. 💔 I never imagined that in a blink of an eye, everything I had could be taken away. 🌪️ Living in this tent ⛺ is a daily reminder of what was lost, and yet, it is also a reminder to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult the path may seem.

But amidst all the destruction, I remain hopeful. 🌱 Hopeful that one day, I will have a home again 🏠, where my family can live in peace 🕊️, free from fear and destruction. 🌈

Dear friends and supporters,

My life changed forever when my home was destroyed in the recent bombings. 💥🏚️

Everything I once had - my home, my belongings, and my sense of security - has been reduced to rubble. 🧱 Today, I live in a tent ⛺, trying to survive day by day in harsh conditions. 🌧️ With no permanent shelter, and limited resources, I face an uncertain future. 🌍

I am reaching out to you for help. 🤝 Any contribution, no matter how small, will bring me one step closer to rebuilding my life and finding a place where I can feel safe again. 🏠 Your generosity will provide me with the basics I need to survive and start over. 🙏

Please share my story and help me spread the word by sharing this link with your network. 📲 Together, we can turn this devastating situation into a chance to rebuild and restore hope. 🌱

Thank you for your kindness and support during these difficult times. ❤️

@paper-mario-wiki @90-ghost @wayneradiotv @sayruq @womanaction @wellwaterhysteria @writerqueenofjewels @gazavetters @routeriver @anneemay-blog @appsa @the-eldritch-it-gay @thebibi @thosemotivationalquotes @the-bastard-king @designmycatastrophe

@a-shade-of-blue @bilal-salah0 @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@nesmamomen

[pedroscurls]

We all know Hugh HATES to be late at events/dinner or people who are..but what if his girl is a little needy 🥵 and "nervous" 😩 about what to wear?

late to the party (one-shot)

summary: possibly already late to ryan and blake's party, hugh becomes just slightly annoyed when you can't decide what to wear... and when he realizes that you're doing it on purpose, he only knows one way to make sure you don't do it again. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warning: smut (18+, mdni), quickie, dom!hugh, light spanking, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style (against the wall), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), creampie (oopsies!), no use of y/n. word count: 1.8k a/n: once again, this one is really late to post so i'm sorry. i'm slowly catching up with all my requests! to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed it! (btw - i'm gonna try something new with these headers moving forward, it takes so long to pick photos and figured just choosing one hugh pic is better lol). as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“Baby, come on. We’re already late,” Hugh calls out, straightening out his tie. He then glances at his watch and when he sees that it’s already past the time that you both needed to be at Ryan and Blake’s house, he grabs his phone to send a text to them. 

You’re standing in the closet, dressed in a matching black lace bra and thong. You bite your lower lip at Hugh’s voice; you know he’s always so punctual and hates it when other people – including himself – are late. 

“I know! I can’t figure out what to wear.” You can hear Hugh’s footsteps approach you, can hear him let out a quiet sigh of frustration. You have your arms crossed over your chest, a thoughtful look on your features by the time he enters the closet with you. He has his hands in his pockets and when you turn to look over at him, his brows are furrowed together and his lips in a straight line. 

“That black one is nice,” he says, nodding his chin to the black dress you’re standing in front of. “Come on, baby. You know I hate being late.” 

“Well, we’re already late and I don’t know what to wear.” 

He sighs again. “Whatever you decide to wear will look good on you, love. Just put on that black one and let’s go.” 

You bite your lower lip and shake your head, turning your back to him as you walk further into the closet to look at the other dresses you have hanging. You can hear the tapping of his foot and you’re trying to hold back the smile on your lips. 

“Baby…” He walks after you and reaches for the dress he pointed out. It’s a black dress with subtle floral print, a ruffled square neckline and sheer short sleeves. It has an empire waist that he knows will fit perfectly to each curve as the bottom of your dress flows out. It looks like the length will stop right at your shins and he walks towards you with the dress in hand. “I’ll pick for you. It’s this one.”

When you turn around to face him, you bite your lower lip and look up at him. You see his eyes deviate to your body, a glimmer of desire flashing through his eyes before he remembers that you’re both already late for the party. 

“I don’t know about that one though…” you say with a sigh, but the corner of your lips turn upwards and Hugh narrows his eyes. 

“Are you–” He hangs the dress back up on the clothesline and then steps closer to you. “Are you doing this on purpose?” 

“What? No!”

Hugh narrows his eyes even further and moves a hand to your hip, pushing you further into the closet until your back gently hits the wall. He reaches out with one hand and places it next to your head, leaning down until his nose is touching yours. 

“Looks to me like you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I just– I just don’t know what to wear!” you lie, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel the hand on your hip tighten. 

“Sounds like you’re lying, baby.” Hugh brushes his lips against yours, hearing your breath catch in your throat as you gasp quietly. “If I reach down here,” he whispers, moving his hand from your hip to between your legs, cupping your sex instantly. “And if I feel that you’re wet…” he continues, moving the strip of your thong to the side as he runs the tip of his finger along the length of your sex. “Oh, you are wet. How long have you been wet, huh?” 

“Hugh…” you whimper, reaching out to rest your hands on his suit jacket but careful not to wrinkle the clothes he’s wearing. After all, you both still need to attend Ryan and Blake’s party. 

“So, let me ask again… Did you intentionally make us late?” 

You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, thrusting two fingers deep inside of you. Your arousal makes it easy for him to push his digits into your tight heat and when he feels you about to grip onto his suit jacket, he uses his free hand and grips your wrists in one hand, gently placing them above your head. 

“Oh baby,” he growls. “Don’t lie to me.” Hugh pushes his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, knowing that it won’t take long for you to reach your climax, but just as he feels your walls begin to clench, he pulls his hand away. 

“Okay!” you exclaim, trying to squirm against him, hips pushing forward and off the wall to chase his fingers. “I did it on purpose… I saw you in that suit and I just– I need you. I knew that the only way I could get what I need was if I made us late and–” 

Hugh growls and releases your hands to grip your hips, roughly turning you around. He watches you place your hands on the wall in front of you, bracing yourself once he pulls your hips closer to him. You can hear him undo his belt and his zipper. You look over your shoulder to watch him drop his suit pants and boxer briefs down his legs. 

He tugs your thong down your legs and you gasp, feeling his warm and leaking tip press against your opening. 

“Hugh, wait, I–” He pushes his hips forward, filling you to the brim in one thrust. He’s so deep that it literally takes your breath away. You gasp, feeling him pull out to his tip until he thrusts back into you. 

“This what you wanted?” Hugh growls, using one hand to grip your hip tightly as he brings his other hand down to connect with your backside. It leaves a red imprint, the sound of the spank echoing throughout the closet. It catches you off guard and your walls clench at the sensation. 

“Y– Yes!” you answer, pushing back against him as he delivers another sharp slap to your ass. He lets out a loud groan, ceasing his movements only to watch you push back against him. He looks down at your bodies, the sight of his glistening manhood appearing and disappearing with each of your movements. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “That’s it, take what you need…” Hugh releases his hold on your hip to hold the bottom of his dress shirt and tie upwards and away from where you’re both connected. He certainly doesn’t want to have to change, especially since you’re both already so late. 

Hugh feels your walls begin to clench around him, your walls sliding along every inch of his throbbing length. He pushes his hips forward, feeling himself delve even deeper within your depths. 

“Hugh! Oh god– I’m close,” you gasp, bracing your hands on the wall as Hugh grips your hip with his free hand and begins to slam into you repeatedly. You can feel each vein on his manhood, can feel him throbbing within your depths and it only urges you closer and closer to reach your high. 

“My naughty girl,” Hugh groans, the sounds of skin slapping against one another mixes in with your continuous moans. He shuts his eyes, your walls continuing to tremble and clench around him. His thrusts become more erratic as he feels the tightness build in the pit of his stomach. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Hugh growls, delivering another slap across your ass. “Gonna have me dripping out of you the entire fucking night.” 

“Hugh!” you push back against him roughly, your walls clenching around him as your walls tremble. You’re so wet, and already so sensitive as you reach your orgasm. 

Hugh groans, picking up the pace with his thrusts until he slams into you with a loud grunt. He paints your walls with his release, hips stuttering. You can feel his come fill you up and when he does pull out slowly, you look down between your legs and see thick drops of his spend trickle down your legs. 

Hugh licks his lower lip and looks down, a broad smirk lining his lips. “You gonna put on that dress now?” 

“Can you give me a minute?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder with a small smile. 

“Oh, I’ve given you plenty.” 

You let out a quiet giggle and then watch him tuck himself back into his pants as he makes himself presentable again. You watch his eyes deviate between your legs before he leaves the closer only to come back with a wet and warm towel to wipe the release from between your legs. 

Hugh then helps slide your thong back up your body and you bite your lower lip when you turn around to face him. You can feel him so deep inside of you and it makes you smile, almost makes you yearn for another round with him but you know that you should really be getting to Ryan and Blake’s party.

You grab the same dress he had picked out for you and slide it on, turning around so that Hugh can zip you up. Once he does, he places a gentle kiss on the side of your neck and looks at you from top to bottom. 

“Beautiful,” he smiles. 

“I’m gonna be feeling you all night,” you admit. 

“Good, and just so we’re both clear,” Hugh says, gently gripping your chin as he looks into your eyes. “Your punishment isn’t over.”

“Punishment?” you clear your throat, excitement bubbling in your chest. 

“Oh yeah,” he grins. “You’re not going to get away with making us late that easily.” 

“Can we– Can we skip the party and just get straight into it?” 

Hugh narrows his eyes. “Such a naughty girl,” he growls. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“No,” Hugh chuckles. “Now, let’s go. Consider having to wait as part of your punishment.”

“Yes, sir.” you respond, biting your lip. 

Hugh growls and releases his hold on your chin as he takes a step back to look at you from top to bottom. “If we don’t leave now, I’m going to throw you over my knee and–”

“Okay!” you interrupt, squeezing your legs together. “Let’s go before I tie you to the bed.” You don’t give him a chance to respond because you’re already walking out of the closet.

Hugh chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see a response from Ryan who had replied to tell him that the party wasn’t going to start for another hour. Hugh shakes his head and runs out after you, seeing you with a knowing smirk on your lips.

“Oh, you planned all of this.” Hugh points out.

You nod and then reach out to gently grip the end of his tie. “Do you really think I’d make us late for the party, Hugh?” 

“On the bed. Now.”

“But what if we’re late–”

“We have an hour,” Hugh growls. “And I ain’t done with you yet.”

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[austinbutlerslovers]

The Red Dress

Label Mature 18+

Summary You are acting as Austin’s romantic female lead in his latest film, however there’s just one problem…-he isn’t acting and he wants to make the relationship a reality.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Shy Austin • teasing •flirting • unwanted advances •romance denial • Austin simping + slight stalking • sleeping with a costar • BJ• cum eating •dirty talk • nipple play • fingering • orgasms • protection

🔗 Master List

📖 Proodreader @purejasmine

The Red Dress

For weeks, you and Austin had shared long days and late nights on set, working through scenes and running lines. You were the love interest in his latest film, and from the first day, it was clear he had a crush on you. 

It was in the way he lingered when he spoke to you, his eyes lighting up whenever you entered a room, the subtle touches on your arm as he spoke to you that felt like his way of claiming just a little more each time. 

But he wasn’t your type. Austin was used to bubbly, adoring girls who hung on his every word. You were professional, confident, and had little patience for playing into his charms.

Every advance he made, you played off with a practiced ease, the kind that kept him guessing—and somehow that made him want you even more.

Tonight is no different as you stand before the bulb-lit mirror, carefully slipping into the red dress for the next scene. You and Austin are set to film your first kiss, and you’re well aware of just how eager he is to perform, even if it’s only in character.

So when you hear a faint knock on your trailer door, you already know exactly who it is.

Smiling slightly, you call out, “Come in,” and sure enough, Austin steps inside, his eyes fixated on his script until he glances up, his gaze landing on you just as you are pulling the red dress over your hips.

You are curvaceous in all the right places and the fullness of your chest subtly bounces in your bra as you adjust the straps.

For a moment, Austin is stunned, his eyes widening as he takes in the way the fabric hugs your every curves, framing your body in a way that leaves little to the imagination.

His gaze lingers, more than what is modest, trailing over you with an intensity that makes the room feel suddenly warmer. 

You can see the struggle in his expression as he forces himself to look back down, pretending to be fascinated by his script once again.

“Is there something you needed, Austin?” you ask your voice light, with a subtle hint of amusement.

He clears his throat, gripping the edges of his script. “Uh, yeah…I just wanted to, um, run the scene with you before we—perform.” His voice is slightly breathless, betraying just how affected he is by the sight of you.

You give him a slight, teasing smile, peeking over your shoulder, as you reach behind your back. “Well then, before we start… could you zip me up?,” you ask, holding his gaze, watching the way his expression shifts from surprise to the arousal he can barely contain.

He steps forward placing his script on the vanity table, his hand moving to your zipper. His fingers brush over your skin, warm and slightly shaky, then you feel him pull the zipper all the way up, his hand lingering before he lets go.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and for a moment, it looks as if he’s about to say something—something unguarded, something real. But he holds back, his lips parting just slightly before he catches himself.

You turn to face him, leaning casually against the vanity, taking in the sight of him. 

Dressed for the scene, he looks extremely handsome. His cheeks are tinged pink, his eyes eager yet uncertain and there’s hint of a desperation there that he’s trying to hide, but it only makes him more endearing. 

Without a word, you reach over and take his script from the vanity, slipping easily into character, your gaze lingering on him as you step closer, letting your fingers trail along the edge of his sleeve.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened,” you say in character your voice filled with longing “If you weren’t there…” you say trailing your hand on his arm.

Austin’s eyes widen, caught up in the moment, but then he blinks, his mouth opening and closing. He’s forgotten his line—a rarity that makes you giggle, breaking character with a sparkle of amusement.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his expression softening with a flicker of self-doubt, a small falter in his pride that you find unexpectedly charming.

With a smile you lean in, placing your hand on his chest as you read from the script. “It’s —‘l’ll always be there for you’”

The line brings an intensity to his eyes as his expression shifts. He straightens, his jaw set as he steps forward, closing the distance between you in a way that’s far more direct than you anticipated. 

“I’ll always be there for you,” he says softly and his hand slides to your waist, pulling you in. 

He kisses you deeply, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, lingering in a shared space as he finally pulls back, just inches from your lips.

“How was that?” he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours, his face so close you can feel his breath.

Your lips are still parted, your hand resting lightly against his chest, caught somewhere between surprise and a flustered blush.

As he leans in to kiss you again, you press your hand firmly against him with just enough pressure to make him look down, keeping him at bay.  

“Save it for the scene,” you whisper, and quickly step past him, feeling his gaze trailing after you as you make your way to set.

There’s a quiet energy as you arrive to film the scene, the usual routine already in motion. The director stands near the monitor, giving instructions to the crew as the camera sits ready on its track.

Austin takes a deep breath and stands on his marker as dozens of people move around him. He clears his throat as he glances at the bright lights overhead, the camera crew adjusting their angles, as the sound guy holds a boom mic steady over your heads.

Make up artists dart between you both, brushing up his hair and touching up your lipstick with quick, practiced strokes. 

It’s all the routine organized chaos of a film.

The space grows quiet as final checks are made. “Quiet on set!” someone calls, and the director nods, signaling the start. 

The slate claps and when the director finally yells, “Action!” everything falls silent.

You and Austin both deliver your lines with a practiced ease, the moment building, tension mounting until it’s time for the kiss. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened,” you say, your voice filled with desperation as your fingers trail lightly along his wrist. “If you weren’t there for me…” you say with unmistakable conviction.

The air grows heavy, and the crew seems to hold their collective breath, waiting as everyone looks to Austin, the pause stretching, the anticipation undeniable. 

For a moment, you almost think he won’t say it, the weight of the scene bearing down on him. 

 Then, his voice breaks through, soft and unsteady, but filled with something real. “I’ll always be there for you.” He says, his delivery is so quiet, so tender, that you’re not even sure of the mic catches it. 

But his focus is entirely on you, his gaze locked on yours as the words linger in the space between you. 

Then his lips find yours with a kiss that’s entirely more than what was rehearsed. He’s passionate and intense, his lips brushing against yours as if you’re the only thing that matters to him.

Your resolve slips as the moment consumes you, his kiss is breathtaking, overwhelming in a way that you weren’t expecting.

Your hands move instinctively, finding his face, your fingertips brushing along the sharp line of his jaw as he pulls you flush against him.

Austin is hard—the thought stuns you, his cock pressing against you  unrestrained as he pours everything into his kiss as though words would never be enough. 

The sound of the set fades away, the weight of his presence anchoring you in a moment that feels far too real.

“Cut!” the director yells, but Austin doesn’t stop, his lips linger, his hands holding you as though he can’t pull away. It isn’t until you gently press against his chest that he finally lets go, his breaths ragged as whispers from the crew spread through the set.

But Austin doesn’t seem to care. His gaze stays on you, his lips slightly parted, looking as though he’s ready to dive back in. 

The director reviews the footage, studying the monitor with a critical eye as you both wait, tension still hanging between you.

Then the director leans back and smiles. “We got it,”and the crew erupts into applause.

The kiss scene is the final shot of the day, and after the applause fades, you’re quickly ushered away from Austin back to your trailer to remove your dress. 

Once back in your own clothing  you are guided to your car by a staff member and driven back to the hotel where the rest of the cast is staying. 

The drive is quiet, but your thoughts are entirely on the intensity of the scene still replaying in your mind

The realization creeps in, unhidden and  undeniable—Austin was hard. The thought replays again and again, and your pulse quickens as you shift in your seat, your gaze flicking toward the dark window, trying to push it aside.

But you can’t. It’s not just the physicality of it—it’s what it meant, the way he seemed completely lost in the moment, as if the line between acting and reality had vanished entirely. You realize that for Austin, it wasn’t just a scene he wants the real thing.

You arrive back to the hotel at the same time as the rest of the cast, their lively chatter filling the lobby. But the moment your eyes meet Austin’s, everything else fades. His gaze locks on you and his need is clearly written across his face.

Without a word, you turn and head toward the elevator. You can feel his eyes following your every move, the tension between you hanging in the air, as though the decision has already been made.

He doesn’t follow you in, and for a moment, you think  he will let the tension simmer between you. But as you walk in silence down the hallway toward your room, you hear the elevator chime behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see it’s Austin, though somehow, you already knew. The unspoken tension between you building until neither of you can ignore it.

As much as you try to resist, to keep your composure, the heat in his eyes makes it impossible to deny the way your body responds, the way your resolve begins to waver.

When you reach your door, you pull out your keycard, wondering if he will head to his own room.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he hesitates, standing just behind you.

You glance at him over your shoulder, noticing the way his jaw tightens as if he’s trying to summon the courage to speak. 

For a moment, you think he might say something, but when the words don’t come, you grin, beeping your key card and entering your room as the door begins to close behind you.

Before it can, his hand shoots out, stopping the door in its tracks and he follows you inside. Before  you can say a word, he pins you against the entry wall, the soft click of the door closing echoing through the room.

He’s panting now, his chest heaving as he presses against you, his hands firm on your wrists. 

His grip tightens slightly, his gaze flickering as if he’s searching for the right thing to say. “I…don’t ” he starts, his voice rough, barely above a whisper as he regains control . “I don’t know why we do this to each other” he breathes his voice low and rough, the words carrying all the restraint he’s clearly been holding back.

“Do what?” you tease, leaning your head slightly, your eyes locked onto his, unwavering and steady as you silently dare him to make a move.

His breath stutters, but then his resolve seems to harden as he looks at you. 

“This,” he says, his closing the distance in an instant his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s filled with his frustration and need.

The intensity of his kiss pulls you in, igniting something you tried to ignore. Slowly, your lips begin to move with his, matching his urgency, the heat between you building with every second. 

His hands release your wrists, sliding down to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you close and he’s hard all over again.

His touch is firm, roaming over every curve of your body like he’s trying to memorize every detail, as if this might be his only chance to have you like this.

He pulls back from the kiss, his breath ragged as his eyes drop, taking in the sight of you. His hands move up, cupping your full chest, his thumbs brushing your nipples through the fabric. “ fuck “ he pants his brows knitting. 

“You want me, that much Austin?” you tease, your hands sliding down the length of his hard cock and the way he his hips jerk from surprise, makes you laugh softly, a low, knowing sound that only fuels his eagerness.

“Yes,”he breathes, his voice tight with barely restrained need and your eyes trail downward, catching sight of his impressive size straining hard and ready against his pants.

“It’s so big Austin,” you praise your tone filled with amusement as your fingertips brush along the shaft, making him harder.

“I’m sure you must get your way all the time,” you grin, teasing him as your fingers trail lower, pressing your palm against him, feeling the weight of his cock in your hand.

“But not this time,” you say intrigued, your tone turning darker as his breath stutters, his body tensing beneath your touch. His hips shift slightly seeking more as if he can’t stop himself, then his eyes look up to yours when you don’t give him what he wants—and it only fuels your resolve.

“I want to make you beg for it,” you decide, your tone firm as your finger tip traces a slow delicate circle on his cock head.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and the wide desperate look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know. 

“Okay” he readily nods and at this point you know he would agree to just about anything.

You take your time, bringing your hands up and unbuttoning his shirt with excruciating slowness, each button revealing another inch of his perfectly toned body. 

Your fingertips graze his skin as the fabric parts, sending shivers down his spine, until the shirt finally falls to the floor, leaving him exposed, eagerly awaiting your next move.

He’s already a mess, practically shaking, his eyes glued to you with a desperate kind of worship. “Please,” he whispers, his voice barely a rasp, and you grin, savoring his need.

“Begging already, Austin?” you tease, your tone laced with heat. “I haven’t even started with you yet.”you reveal as you undress slowly, letting the fabric of your dress slip away to reveal your silhouette. 

Your curves flow effortlessly, your full, breasts mesmerizing him as he admires every inch of you of your body as if he’s witnessing something rare, something he’s always wanted but thought he could never have.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he says under his breath, his voice low and uneven as he takes in the sight of you. 

Your lips quirk into a smile as you answer,“ I know” laced with desire.

His hands slide around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer. 

His lips crashing against yours again in a passionate kiss, his hands roaming every curve of your body as if he’s trying to memorize each detail, every inch of you imprinted in his mind.

His hands squeeze your breasts with an intensity that draws a soft gasp from your lips, and you pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. The wild anticipation in his eyes is unmistakable, but you slyly smile not ready to give him exactly what he wants yet.

“How badly do you want me, Austin?” you ask, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers slip through his hair, tugging  him down gently to your breasts. The movement draws a shudder from him as his lips brush over them in reverence.

“More than anything,” he whispers against your skin, his voice trembling, with desperation and need as he begins to suck your nipple into his mouth.

You smile softly, your fingers gently pulling his hair back to make him look you in the his eyes. “Then let me give you everything,” you say, your voice heavy with promise.

His body tenses, every muscle in his abs drawn tight as you slowly lower yourself before him. He presses his palms against the wall for balance barely able to contain himself as he watches you settle on your knees. 

Slowly, your fingers move to his zipper, drawing it down with a deliberate slowness that heightens his anticipation. When you pull him out every inch of his thick cock is throbbing with an undeniable need. 

You look up at him and smile as you finally to take his cock into your mouth and his lips part as a symphony of raw, unrestrained sounds spill from him. 

With his his eyes locked you, his body trembles, his hips barely able to hold still as you suck him with a skilled, taunting rhythm, dragging him to the edge and pulling back, drawing out his pleasure until he’s whimpering, panting, his voice barely more than a plea as he tries to beg.

His moans are desperate, but you keep sucking him until he’s trembling, twitching, writhing, pleading, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs breathlessly, his voice breaking with need, and you finally relent.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, the heat between you undeniable. Before you can say anything, his voice breaks through, raw and unsteady.

“Don’t move.” He says as he kneels and retrieves a condom from his pocket. You grin seeing he’s prepared, revealing his true intentions all along. You watch as he rolls  the condom on his heavy cock with steady hands. 

Without hesitation, he pulls you toward him, his need undeniable as he leads you to the center of the room and pushes you down onto the softness of the bed.

You laugh at how eager he is as you prop yourself up on your elbows and as you meet his gaze the heat in his eyes is unmistakable.

“Come Austin,” you tease, your voice inviting as you pat the bed. 

He doesn’t hesitate as he climbs on top of you, his weight dipping the mattress as his hands find your hips, pinning you beneath him, his gaze locking on yours for just a moment before he lowers himself.

His mouth finds your breasts with an almost desperate hunger, his lips brushing against your skin before his wet tongue flicks over the sensitive peaks, sending jolts of pleasure through you as your fingers thread through his hair keeping him close. “You’re doing so good, Austin. Just like that.” You encourage him.

Your words spur him on as he squeezes them in his hands, his warm breath ghosting over your skin in between each kiss and lick, his attention entirely focused on you. As he sucks your nipple into his mouth, the heat and pressure draw a soft gasp from your lips, the sensation shooting straight through you.

The intensity of his focus, as he lavishes you without hesitation leaves you aching and breathless, his mouth moves hungrily over each breast, his tongue flicking and swirling over your sensitive peaks, as your nails lightly graze his shoulders.

He pauses just long enough to let his breath skim your nipple before he takes it into his mouth again, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine.

The wet, obscene sound of his lips and tongue against your skin only heightens your need, each suck drawing soft gasps and moans from you. “You’re making me feel so good, Austin,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.

He groans against your skin, his mouth never leaving your breast as his hand moves lower, slipping between your thighs finding your clit, already swollen and slick from arousal. 

He firmly presses it before his fingers slide into you effortlessly the obscene squelch of his quick thrusts makes your cheeks flush as your body arches into him. 

“You’re so wet for me,” he says against your breast, his voice rough and heavy with desire, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin. 

“I want more… Austin don’t stop” you whisper, your tone breathy and encouraging.

Without hesitation, he pulls your tender nipple back into his mouth, his tongue swirling and flicking as he sucks harder.

His fingers curl inside you with precision, as your moans spill out uncontrollably, blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his mouth and relentless pace of his fingers inside you.

Your thighs shudder as your body coils tight, every muscle trembling under the relentless build-up—the slick noise of his fingers plunging into you, the wet pull of his lips on your nipples and the unbearable tension in your core finally snaps.

Your orgasm rips through you, as your hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

As he finally releases you his touch softens, his fingers easing out of you while his mouth lingers for a moment longer, pressing gentle kisses against your heated skin. 

He positions himself to enter you, his tip pushing in as he murmurs things that are almost incoherent, broken phrases laced with desire and disbelief as he glides his cock into you and begins to thrust.

“You feel so… you feel too good,” he gasps as his hands roam over your body like he can’t decide where to touch first, wanting to claim every inch of you.

“Don’t hold back,” you pant softly, your voice trembling with need. “I want all of you, Austin.”

Your gentle praises seem to unravel him as his hips begin moving in a desperate rhythm, each thrust more intense than the last, his body tight with the effort.

“That’s perfect,” you whisper, your fingers tracing over his shoulders, your voice laced with sweetness. “Just like that Austin … don’t stop.”

He groans, his voice rough and almost incoherent as he loses himself completely. “You—oh, fuck—how do you feel this good? I can’t… I can’t stop.” 

His words tumble out, disconnected and wild, as his body grinds against yours, his grip tightening like he’s afraid to let go. 

“You’re driving me crazy—” he groans, his voice raw and trembling with need.

You grab his jaw firmly, forcing him to meet your gaze, your eyes blazing with equal intensity. “Then lose your mind for me,” you pant, your voice light and commanding. “Show me how badly you want me.”

His hands grip your shoulders, anchoring himself as the tension within him surges to a breaking point. He thrusts into you with force as your tits jiggle, the rhythm of his movements so consuming it feels like the air is being knocked out of you.

Your wrap your legs around his hips in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, but it’s futile. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge as his hands tighten their grip, his ragged breaths hot against your skin as your name spills from his lips. 

“Come for me,” he begs, his voice low and rough reverberating through you like a command your body can’t ignore. The tension peaks all at once, your orgasm crashing over you in waves so powerful it leaves you crying out, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body spasms beneath him.

He doesn’t slow, riding out every tremor, his hands sliding down to your waist, holding you steady as he pulls you to him again and again, prolonging the moment until you’re left utterly spent, gasping for air,trembling in his grasp.

His entire frame tightens, every muscle unyielding as a low, guttural sound escapes him, raw and unrestrained, and he surrenders to the overwhelming release.

A look of relief and ecstasy washes over his face as he comes, his expression almost vulnerable as he rides out the final waves of pleasure.

His breaths are still shuddering as he slowly pulls out and collapses beside you, his chest heaving as he stares at the ceiling. 

He looks stunned, as if he still can’t believe what just happened. His lips part slightly, but no words come out, his expression a mix of disbelief and something softer—almost awe

Finally he turns his head toward you, his breath still uneven, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Do you want to go with me to dinner?” he asks, his question startling in its simplicity after what just happened.

You can’t help but laugh as you sit up understanding he wants to date you and brush his hair back with a teasing smirk.

“Dinner?” you ask, sitting up and leaving him sprawled out in bed. “You haven’t even begun to figure me out yet.” you grin.

He watches you saunter toward the bathroom, his eyes trailing your every move. You pause at the doorway, glancing back over your shoulder. “Come along, Austin,” you say, your voice soft and inviting, “Let’s see if you can handle me again.”

His hesitation lasts only a second before he scrambles off the bed, his movements hurried and desperate as he follows you without a second thought.

🥀END

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

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[korrasera]

Like I said, this is a good example. When you're arrogant you tend to think you know everything despite being uninformed about the topic you're talking about. People who are like this also tend to either react really poorly or retreat into their talking points when called on it.

As an example, aside from the fact that Israel isn't a vassal state just being obvious on its face, you can also look at that talking point up there about Biden sending smaller amounts to bypass Congress, which is just straight up not what happened.

It's because people like the above don't understand what the congressional bypass is or how it works.

The US sends aid to Israel every year. Period. We've done it since the country was founded. The power to send that aid, in the form of military sales, is invested in the office of the US president. Congress has a 15 day period to review such sales before they go through. If Congress wants to block the sale, they can pass a joint resolution to do so, but no Congress ever has.

In the case of what Biden did, he didn't choose smaller amounts to bypass Congress, he used a waiver that's also part of his powers to send aid in situations where it's deemed a special case, something Biden did to provide aid to both Israel and Ukraine. If he'd sent smaller amounts of aid he wouldn't have needed the waiver at all because Congress wouldn't even get a chance to review it.

So, as you can see:

These arguments try to convince you of is that Biden is some sort of genocidal cowboy that's bypassing the checks and balances meant to keep deals like this from moving forward. That's not just propaganda, it's not just false, it also demonstrates that the person making the argument doesn't know anything they're talking about.

Also, this aid is the aid that was delayed, by years, by Biden, as a political poker chip.

Oh, sorry Bibi, we approved the aid but you know it's just going to take forever and also why don't you listen to all of the military advisors we sent over telling you that you should stay the hell out of Gaza?

As an example, the last time that I know of where the US did something even remotely like this was when Reagan banned the sale of cluster munitions to Israel because the Israeli government had been using them to strike civilian targets. And apparently even Reagan had a limit.

Is the US complicit in Israel's genocide? Absolutely. Unfortunately, it's just part of being an American. We've been fighting constantly to tear out the authoritarian warmongering parts of our society and this is as far as we've gotten.

Is the US a fascist genocidal state? No, not literally and not figuratively. We are very much a people working to build a better tomorrow, built on unthinkable bloodshed and crimes against humanity.

We have not yet won that fight, but it is absolutely going in our direction, and the work the Biden administration has put in to oppose Netanyahu's government is a sign that it's gotten better. His administration is the first one that's taken meaningful steps to rehabilitate our foreign policy towards Israel.

It really sucks that all of that progress is going to be lost when Trump takes power, but we've been knocked down by setbacks before. We're not done fighting.

Don't listen to propaganda. Don't let people tell you it's hopeless. They're just scared and looking for you to be scared with them.

Be brave instead. Fight.

We tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen to us over the sound of your own self-righteousness. You must be so proud of yourselves.

[pandapetals]

Watch It, Bub

Logan whips out his claws to scare off some creepy guy for you.

logan howlett x fem!shy reader - etablished bf/gf, shy reader, introvert reader, bookish reader, logan being protective, logan whipping his claws out, cute ending, some fluff, some angst, no y/n used, no reader description, sweetheart/darlin pet names used

a/n: inspired by @romanarose post about logan whipping out his claws at any tiny threat towards reader.

"Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be just over there looking handsome," Logan murmured, brushing a quick, warm kiss against your cheek before stepping away.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at his usual confidence, but you felt the familiar flutter in your chest as he headed to the other side of the store. You hadn’t expected him to come with you today—bookstores weren’t exactly his thing—but here he was, giving you the space to browse in peace, even offering to pay for whatever books you wanted. He knew how much this place meant to you.

With a small smile lingering on your face, you turned down the fiction aisle, your eyes drifting over the rows of books. The shelves were packed, full of spines in every color, each one a doorway into a new world. You felt at home here, surrounded by the comforting smell of paper and dust, your fingers grazing the covers as you searched for the title you came for.

But as you rounded a corner, your easy calm shifted. A man was standing a little way down the aisle, leaning against a shelf with a book open in his hands. His posture was casual, but there was something in the way he glanced up at you—quick, assessing—that made the back of your neck prickle. His gaze lingered a second too long, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You considered turning around, ducking into another section, but a voice in your head stopped you. Would he think that was rude? Why should you care what he thought? But still, your heart beat a little faster, and you could feel the edges of your shyness creeping in, making your movements a bit more stiff.

Taking a quiet breath, you forced yourself to keep going. You focused on the titles, searching for that book you’d been wanting. Your fingers tightened around the spine of a novel as you found it, pulling it from the shelf with a small, victorious smile. But before you could fully turn away, you heard him clear his throat.

“Hey," he said, his tone almost too casual. "So…you into that author?”

The question caught you off guard. You glanced up, your brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

He tilted his head, closing the book in his hands. "Just wondering if you’re a fan. I’ve read a lot of their stuff. Thought maybe we could compare notes.”

His smile was meant to be friendly, but there was something too forward about it, too expectant. You felt your cheeks flush, the words caught somewhere in your throat. You hadn’t prepared yourself for small talk—especially not with a stranger who seemed to have taken a bit too much interest in you.

The man’s question hung in the air, and you felt a weight in his gaze, waiting, pressing as if he had a right to your attention. Your brain scrambled for something to say, but all you could manage was, “Yeah—I mean, I guess.”

Your cheeks felt warm, an awkward flush creeping up as you struggled to fill the silence. You wished, just for once, you could handle moments like this smoothly—could just have a regular conversation without your words tangling on the way out. But another part of you bristled, reminding you that you didn’t owe this stranger anything. You glanced down at the book in your hands, hoping he’d take the hint and move on.

Instead, he stepped closer, a too-friendly grin stretching across his face. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping as if to make the conversation more intimate, “I’m always happy to give recommendations if you’re looking for something… different.” He reached out and touched your arm, a casual gesture that lingered a beat too long, his fingers warm against your sleeve.

A chill shot up your spine. You stiffened, pulling your arm back instinctively, but the man didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care. He leaned in, that smile of his edging from friendly to something more expectant, his gaze fixed on you as if he were waiting for permission to keep going.

Your heart sped up, the edges of your discomfort sharpening. You swallowed, feeling the prickling heat of anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You opened your mouth, trying to summon a polite excuse to leave, but the words died as a shadow fell over you both.

Logan had appeared beside you, silent as a storm gathering on the horizon. His hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you close to him. He didn’t look at you—his focus was locked entirely on the stranger, his eyes dark and unblinking.

“Watch it, bub?” Logan’s voice was low and even, each word laced with a quiet, unmistakable threat. “She’s not interested.”

The stranger’s grin faltered, his fingers twitching as he quickly withdrew his hand from where he’d touched your arm. He looked between you and Logan, his smile turning nervous as he took in the hard line of Logan’s jaw, the clenched fists. Logan’s stance seemed to expand, filling the aisle. A faint, metallic snikt cut through the silence as Logan’s claws slid out just far enough to make his intentions crystal clear.

“I—uh,” the guy stammered, his eyes wide. “Didn’t mean any harm, man. Just… being friendly.”

“Then back off.” Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice steady as steel. “Find someone else to be friendly with.”

The stranger held up his hands in a quick, defensive gesture, the color draining from his face. “Yeah, yeah. No problem,” he muttered, taking a step back. He turned and practically tripped over his own feet as he made his way down the aisle, disappearing around the corner without looking back.

As soon as he was gone, Logan’s posture softened. His claws retracted with a soft click, and he turned to you, his expression shifting from deadly to concerned. He brushed a gentle thumb over your shoulder where the stranger had touched you, his eyes scanning your face.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice a low rumble of reassurance.

You felt a small, shaky smile tug at your lips as the tension slowly ebbed from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath, but laced with quiet relief.

Logan’s eyes softened, his mouth curving into that rare, gentle smile he saved just for you. He kept his hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles over your skin. “Can’t have anyone bothering my girl,” he said.

A soft laugh escaped you, and a gentle warmth bloomed in your chest, melting away the last of your unease. “I guess it was my fault…” you started, feeling a bit sheepish. “Maybe I should have just walked away.”

Logan’s face darkened, and he shook his head firmly. “No, sweetheart. Don’t go blaming yourself.” His eyes flicked toward the empty aisle where the stranger had disappeared, his jaw tightening as if the man were still standing there. “He put his hands on you…” His voice dipped into a dangerous growl, his hand clenching briefly at his side. “I should’ve cut off his damn arm.”

The words were half-joking, but his eyes flashed with something deadly serious. You could feel his protective fury simmering just below the surface, a fierce heat held in check only by his respect for you. It was a reminder of exactly who he was—the dangerous edge he kept hidden, for your sake.

You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Well, good thing you didn’t… cut off his arm,” you said, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual hardness melting into something warmer that seemed to wrap around you like a shield. Slowly, his hand traced down your arm, his fingers leaving a gentle warmth that lingered on your skin long after they passed.

“You’ll never have to find out, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady promise.

His words hung between you, carrying a weight that was both fierce and comforting as if he was making a vow he intended to keep with every fiber of his being. You felt a soft warmth bloom in your chest, and suddenly the world seemed a little smaller and safer, with him beside you.

You met his eyes, feeling your own shyness creeping in, but unable to look away. “Thank you, Logan,” you whispered, feeling the words fall short of what you really meant.

He just gave a small, knowing smile, as if he understood everything you couldn’t quite say. Then, with one last brush of his thumb along your arm, he pulled back, letting you return to your books, but not before giving you a final, reassuring nod that told you he’d be right there if you needed him.

[wtfdemother]

Does anyone recall Eldritch!König?

I personally miss him NSFW below, happy kinkvember day 10 ☃️🤝

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

CW: mild bondage, tentacles, some rough handling, mild dub-con and invasion of privacy

Eldritch!König X Witch!Reader

Eldritch!König who on one of your drunken stupors, tried to summon on a bitter winter night. You succeeded to your bewilderment, the earlier booze mixed in with self pity had you convinced the spell wouldn’t work, but by some intervention from the great beyond, you managed to perfectly scribble all runes required to summon him. In chalk, no less, finally somebody who didn’t fall for the old wives tail of using virgin’s blood. He’s here, you crumple to the floor.

Eldritch!König who you immediately regret disturbing on such late notice, fear consumes you whole. You scramble on cold tiles, pushing back with your feet until your back hits something solid. Your bed. You’re scared, and you’re so screwed. You feel as if your heart was about ready to burst from your rib cage, your breath constricted, what was once a well respected witch had turned into the equivalent of a deer caught in headlights. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Ô Great One…”

Eldritch!König who pities your trembling form, a hard working witch far too overworked had made the simple mistake of summoning him for an ill cause. Curiosity, he’ll never understand it. He tsks, the click loud enough to reverberate off the walls. It sends chills crawling down your spine, already more than the two black holes peering behind his veil, highlighted by streaks of red below the cuts. He stood tall, menacing, slowly he closes the gap between you two. Dark, hulking tentacles pool at his feet, he takes a step closer, out from the chalky circle.

Eldritch!König who hasn’t encountered such a careless little thing with so much potential wasted away, he senses you oftentimes get in your own way. He thinks a lesson is in order, curling one of his many extremities around your ankle. He yanks your body forward, sliding you right under him. Your heart’s in your throat, tears blur your vision, burning. He whispers something foreign, a language you don’t understand but it lulls you, pulling you into a false sense of security. He hushes your cries, you full heartedly believe that this is it, his presence overwhelmed your mind and soul, causing all rationality to fizzle into nothing. He doesn’t know how to convince that he’s not mad, little witch, just disappointed.

Eldritch!König who binds a heavy tentacle around your wrists, the grip tight enough to hold you in place while he slips a slimmer one into your mouth. He kept the one on your ankle steady, carefully the slimy sounds of his fleshy extremities make it around your waist. You can feel the smaller tentacle inspect each individual tooth, each sucker digging into your skin and inner cheek like odd kisses. “You… didn’t brush your teeth.” He finally says, assessing the damages done to your enamel before slipping the tentacle out of your warm orifice with a pop. “When was the last time you even took care of yourself, kleine?”

Eldritch!König whose voice was higher than anticipated, kinder, like he genuinely wanted to engage with you. It leaves you feeling puzzled, your mind clashing with the need to flee and his none threatening guise. “Let me take care of you,” he utters into your ear, already sliding an appendage up your shirt. “We will discuss how you behave with yourself in the morning…” A deep rumble emits from his chest, an approving hum as he circles your breasts, squeezing at the ample flesh. His suckers begin to trail perfectly round hickeys on your skin, you are too afraid to move, afraid of upsetting him or setting him off.

Eldritch!König who catches your discomfort, “My word is my bond,” he mutters against your skin, kissing your forehead over the veil. “Let me take care of you.” You nod with a shuddering breath, he wipes the remainder of your tears away. “There we go… focus.” He tweaks your nipples with his suckers, slipping more appendages down your thighs and into your panties. Slowly, he works you open, the slime of his tentacles already acting as lubricant as he pries your pussy lips apart. You writhe under his touch, feeling the tip of a tentacle swipe up from your hole to your clit. You inhale a sharp gasp, a sucker had latched onto your swelling nub. Gently he circles it, you can feel even the smallest of his slithering limbs work their way inside your velvety walls, brushing against your cervix.

Eldritch!König who chuckles almost condescendingly at your eager wetness. “Du bist so nass, kleine. So eng…” He cooes, “Shhh… I know, I know how it feels, I know…” But it only serves to edge you more. He doesn’t swallow your cries, rather letting you whine and squirm from the feel of his tentacles, the pop! pop! pop! of his suckers reminding you of the marks he placed on your body. You buck your hips to the delicate rhythm of his tentacles pumping slowly out of your pussy, the sucker only doing so much to stimulate your throbbing clit. You hiccup from a frustrated sob, “Please… Great One…” Like honey to his ears he relishes in your begs, he will not be a cruel being to such a precious thing, relief floods your burning core as he picks up the pace.

Eldritch!König who hoists you up in the air, wrapping his limbs tightly around your thighs and wrists anew. He suspends you above your own bed, leaving you stunned and confused from the sudden emptiness. He leaves your cunt exposed to the cold air, tentacles roughly dig into your tits while he teases your hole. You throw your head back and your toes curl at the fullness of a larger tentacle, he fucks you with the bigger appendage with reckless abandon. “Are you going to stop neglecting yourself?” He grunts between sloppy thrusts, sliding the glistening member in and out of your drenched cunt. You nod absentmindedly, agreeing to anything as long as he lets you come already. “You gonna take up a healthy routine in the morning, witch?” He probs at the swollen bud, waiting for a reply. “Yes, yes, yes!” You chant, babbling promises about never putting yourself on the back burner anymore with tears in your eyes.

Eldritch!König who makes you come on his command, keeping your legs wide open and your arms bound as you come undone under the slimy mass of his tentacles. He gently sets you down on the bed after the high comes down, the same tentacles who’d fucked you earlier are now tucking you in. He swiped a loose strand from your forehead, “You did so well… rest, you need your strength for tomorrow.” You fall into a dreamless sleep, spent from everything. In the morning, he’s there to greet you to your pleasant surprise. The bruises peppered along your body are now more prominent in the light, you never thought a summoned being could look so bashful and sheepish from his own actions. You start the day early, he makes sure of that, hovering over your shoulder as you pad bare foot to the bathroom. “Don’t pull that look, miss grump. Go brush your teeth and I’ll make you breakfast.”

And that’s how you landed yourself an eldritch partner. You prefer not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, although sometimes you catch yourself wanting to return him. The man’s insufferable about his routines. You love him.

[planetpedri]

Apocalypse — João Félix.

Pairing: João Félix x Fem!Reader

Summary: A romantic date on the beach with your boyfriend was supposed to be the alone time you’d been asking for, for the past two weeks. Unfortunately, he couldn’t leave his dog alone at home.

Word count: 565+

Disclaimer/s: fluff , banter , ect !

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS DIVA!! and hello Allur, I hope this was to your liking ^_^ @joaoflms

The wind wisps your hair across your face, the salty air produced by the ocean did little to add to the romantic scenery. Beside you, João walked in slow, even steps, one hand holding yours while the other keeping a tight grip on Floki’s leash.

Your eyes drop from the scenic sunset to the barking dog. Seriously? You had one minute of silence. “Did we have to take him?”

João glances at you, “uh, yeah? He would’ve been so sad at home, all alone.” His explanation was short and definitely not sweet. You loved Floki, you truly did, but, that didn’t mean you wanted him on your dates.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s take the dog on—“

João suddenly lurches forward, taking you down with him. Floki had caught sight of something in the distance and had tugged on his leash unexpectedly. In the midst of trying to reach whatever he saw, the dog had caused an unfortunate sequence of events.

João tumbled to the sand and you fell right on top of him, a loud squeal leaving your mouth. Your boyfriend had managed to keep hold of the leash, thank God.

Scrambling up to a straddling position, you lean over the man, your hands resting in the sand on both sides of his head. “This, João, is exactly why we do not take the damn dog on dates.” Your head dipping down as your body shakes with laughter.

Soon enough, the brunette beneath you is laughing too, his head tilting back into the sand. Floki pads toward the two of you, jumping at your waist. You take the hint and lower yourself down and onto the sand beside your boyfriend, allowing him to climb onto your stomach.

The sounds of waves crashing against the shore mixed in with your breathy laughs. “It’s going to take weeks to get this sand out of my hair.” You finally speak.

“Why does it sound like you’re blaming me?” João’s right eyebrow lifts, his gaze trailing from your face to his dog’s.

“Uh, because you forced me into allowing him to come?” You argue, pushing yourself up to lean back on your arms. “So, it’s completely, one hundred percent, your fault.”

João mirrors your position, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Well, you certainly didn’t put up that much of a fight. So, it’s actually on the both of us. Technically speaking.” His lip curls into an amused grin, one you didn’t know if you wanted to flick off of him, or kiss off of him.

“Loud and wrong.” You shake your head, “now. Can we please just go home? I feel gross and grimy.”

Your boyfriend nods, “yeah, probably a good idea.” Neither of you move though, instead, he tips his head down, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look right now?”

“Yeah, beautiful and sandy. Thanks.” You breathe out through a giggle, “but thank you, anyways.”

“And, I love you.” He continues, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to gain brownie points for something?”

João feigns offense, his hand clasping over his heart in hurt. “I would never do that?! But, if thats an offer..”

“Oh shut up.” You laugh, using one hand to cup his cheek to pull his face into yours. His lips meet yours in a delicate kiss. “I love you, too.” You murmur.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @joaoflms @sakashq @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !

[millersgirl80]

Summer Spark (🔞 18+)

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x reader

Words: 1.2K its short 🫣

Rating: 18+

Summary: request—you and Sarah are bestfriends, and you’re staying at her house for summer break from college, and reader and Joel end up sleeping with each other

Warnings: Smut 18+

You had always looked forward to spending summer breaks at your best friend Sarah's house. It was a tradition you cherished, a time to escape the mundane college life and immerse yourself in the comfort of childhood friendship. But this year, as you stepped into their cozy home, you had a sneaking suspicion that this summer would be different.

"Hey, you're here!" Sarah's voice echoed through the house, followed by her bubbly laughter. She rushed to greet you, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. You hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"You look amazing," she complimented, taking a step back to admire your summer dress, a light fabric that accentuated your curves. "And I see you went shopping! I like it!"

Flustered by her praise, you felt your cheeks warm. "It's all thanks to you, Sarah. You always bring out the best in me."

As you caught up on each other's lives, you couldn't help but notice the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her father, Joel, in the background. He was in his late forties, with a ruggedly handsome face and a captivating presence. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes holding a hint of mischief.

"You must be Sarah's friend," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm Joel, her father. It's a pleasure to finally meet the young lady who's kept my daughter company over the years."

You felt your face heat up again, this time for a different reason. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Joel. I've heard so much about you from Sarah."

The next few days were a blur of laughter, long conversations, and shared memories. You and Sarah stayed up late, giggling like schoolgirls, while Joel often joined in, his presence adding a certain charm to your girl time. You found yourself stealing glances at him, noticing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the way his strong hands moved gracefully as he gestured while telling stories.

One afternoon, as Sarah had stepped out to run some errands, you found yourself alone with Joel in the spacious living room. The house was quiet, and the warm summer air seemed to heighten your senses.

"So, how's college life treating you?" Joel asked, his voice low and soothing. He sat beside you on the sofa, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"It's good, but I always look forward to these summer breaks," you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Being here with Sarah... and you, it feels like coming home."

Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and he leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. "I'm glad you feel that way."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth between your thighs.

Before you could process what was happening, his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your soft skin. "You're so beautiful, so full of life. I can't help but admire you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. "Joel..." you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating—a mix of coffee and something uniquely him. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, demanding, and you responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed wet kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body, mapping your curves. "You have no idea how hard it's been to resist you."

You gasped as his fingers deftly unbuttoned your dress, revealing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. "Joel, we can't... Sarah..."

"Shh..." He silenced you with another kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple through the lace. "Let's not think about anything else right now. Just you and me."

His skilled fingers unhooked your bra, and your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He worshipped them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. Moans escaped your lips, filling the room with a symphony of desire.

"You're so responsive," he growled, his breath hot on your skin. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He lifted you onto his lap, positioning your legs on either side of his muscular thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length.

You cried out as he filled you, inch by delicious inch. His thick cock stretched you, eliciting sensations you'd never experienced before. You began to move, riding him with a rhythm that built from slow and sensual to frenzied and wild.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your ass, urging you on. "Ride me, baby, ride my cock."

His words spurred you on, and you bounced on his lap, your breasts bouncing in time with your movements. You reached down, rubbing your clit as he thrust up to meet your descent, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I'm close..." you panted, your orgasm building to an explosive peak.

"Not yet," he commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

He stood up, still buried deep inside you, and carried you to the nearby dining table. Laying you down on the smooth surface, he spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy.

Kneeling between your thighs, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue laving your sensitive flesh. He ate you with a hunger that mirrored your own, his tongue flicking your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you.

His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he impaled you on his shaft, filling you so completely that you screamed in pleasure.

He pounded into you, the table creaking with each powerful stroke. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze mirroring the intensity of his thrusts. You could see the desire and lust burning in his eyes, a reflection of the fire raging within you.

"You're so fucking wet, so tight around my cock," he grunted, his voice rough with passion. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers joining his cock in your slick heat. He rubbed your clit in firm circles, his rhythm perfectly matching his thrusts. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you soared towards the edge of bliss.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you screamed, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm exploded through you.

Joel groaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, his hot cum mixing with your juices. He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged against your neck.

As your heart rates slowed, you realized what you had just done. You had just engaged in the most mind-blowing sex of your life with your best friend's father.

"We can't tell Sarah about this," he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "But I can't deny that I want more of this. I want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire and the hint of something more—something that went beyond physical attraction. "I want you too, Joel. But we need to be careful. We can't risk hurting Sarah."

“Won't say a word, Stays between us baby.” Joel kisses your head and finishes cleaning you up, helping you get dressed.

[violetmuses]

Angel - T. Richmond ❤️‍🩹

Title: Angel - T. Richmond ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Rebel Ridge” Film Universe

Character: Terry Richmond

Pairing: Terry Richmond + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Facing one nightmare could lead to unexpected joy.

@episodes-ff @diaries-of-me @blackgurlnhermoods @liquorlaughslove @babybratzmaraj @cloveroctobers @becauseimswagman1 @slippinninque 🏷

=====

2024

“Excuse me?” Grounded in the rural town of Shelby Springs, veteran Terry Richmond noticed your own steps moving down this federal corridor.

“Yes?” You've turned around mid-stride when someone catches your attention.

Goodness gracious.

Towering this muscular build as he chose one fitted shirt, veteran Terry Richmond offered unexpected height as his striking gaze reached your direction.

“I left the police station this morning and I don't have representation yet. Do you know anyone available?” His deep yet gentle voice nearly shook up your presence.

“Depending on your case, finding assistance could be difficult. Most of us scramble here with many circumstances.” Clearing your throat, an explanation offered the truth.

“Are you swamped?” Richmond handed out the question for obvious reasons.

“I might as well be.” You sighed while holding this briefcase. “This town is so small that you'll cough and everyone will know about it.”

“I just need help if something goes wrong.” Terry knew better.

“Follow me. Let's speak in private.” You offered this path while heading elsewhere.

______

“I'm sorry if there's too much going on, but how can I move forward?” Richmond sat across from you while placed in this cramped office.

“No chance in hell.” Struggling with advice, you shook your head after learning Terry Richmond's case. "Just show up on Monday like the Chief said or you've lost an opportunity.”

“He's not very nice.” Richmond settled his frustration regarding Sandy Burne, the arrogant Chief of Police.

“Burne is only tolerable if folks put up with his nonsense.” You say. “Defiance gets your ass kicked out.”

“I'll be gone if everything stays in order.” Terry just wanted to leave this place with his cousin Mike alive.

“Be careful out here.” Your voice cautioned. “The police department has more resources than everyone else.”

“Does Burne know who you are?” Terry still looked out.

“Enough to keep me working.” You almost scoffed behind the desk. “Tight skirts always make money. There's so many perverts that I even collected wedding rings for this side of town.”

Damn. Richmond thought.

“Apologies for wasting time.” Terry stood from the chair and gathered his backpack, ready to go.

“Here's my contact info as a safeguard.” You exchanged phone numbers.

“Thank you, Ma'am.” Terry nodded, leaving this establishment.

******

“Terry! I heard the news. Where are you?” You picked up this phone in broad daylight.

Reports explained drama that bled from the corrupt police station.

“At the hospital. Medics started helping Summer McBride.” Richmond acknowledged one of the other legal assistants.

“What's the next plan? You can't stay here forever.” Your voice warned again.

“I've figured out a settlement.” Terry explained further. “We locked enough proof to shut everything down.”

“What should I do?” You didn't even know what to think. “Summer's probably knocked off from ailments.”

“Please pick me up from the lobby.” Richmond continued speaking. “I lost my bike and just gave back one of their police cruisers.”

“Okay. Stay there.” You snatched car keys without thinking twice and rushed out of work.

******

“Terry!” You honked while staying in that driver's seat and Terry jogged outdoors, circled around to meet the passenger side.

“Thank you.” Despite expressing gratitude, Richmond couldn't smile when you punched the gas to avoid more problems.

______

“Where should we go, Terry?“ Given no other choice, you kept driving. “With Burne still mad, you're better off leaving this place.”

“Come with me.” Richmond pulled his deep voice again.

“What?” Squinting, you nearly pulled the car over right now.

“If I couldn't help Mike and Summer get out of here, maybe there's a chance with us.” Terry offered.

“I….” You've made one turn and led Richmond near the airport.

“No matter what happens, we'll keep looking out for each other. Deal?” His words revealed this vow.

“Deal.” You hurried to park the car before gas would run out and reached Terry's hand while entering that larger terminal.

*****

Scoring this new home, you joined Richmond and practically lived together now.

“No luck?” Terry snuck from behind as you work with your laptop by the kitchen table.

“Stop it!” Laughing, you almost swatted him away as this rare yet adorable smile brightened his face.

“I'm asking.” Richmond pointed to the main screen.

“Working soon.” You grinned while confirming another placement.

“Aight, c'mon…” Hardly responding, Terry lifted your weight and carried you over his shoulder, leading this moment upstairs.

“Wait, put me down!” Your laugh would echo straight through his mind forever.

[bullet-prooflove]

Pause: Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @Watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.

Lola becomes the third wheel in your relationship. There’s been a war brewing between the two of you since she turned up in Tulsa, a silent one that’s waged every night she steps into the casino and sits herself at the bar.

“Why haven’t you banned her?” You ask, furiously wiping down the counter and Mitch sighs as he adjusts his cap.

“Because Sunny, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Mitch explained and you’d clenched your jaw so you didn’t bite back with something truly scathing.

You understand the sentiment behind it, Mitch wants that divorce and he wants it as soon as possible but having Lola here, it’s detrimental to your mental health. Part of you wants to claw her damn eyes out and the other part wants to sob, because the evidence of the promise that Mitch broke it’s staring you right in the face, wearing his class ring.

The only solace is those nights when you’re on stage. You sit up there strumming a tune,  singing your heart out and for a moment Mitch’s entire attention it’s focused on you. You can’t express how good that feels, to be the centre of his world again, the only woman he has eyes for. It’s gone the instant you step off because he’s back to Lola, pleading his case.

“I feel like we’re drifting apart a little.” You say to him later that night when everyone else is gone and the two of you are putting away the glasses. “I feel like you don’t see me anymore.”

“That’s not true, Sunny girl.” He sighs as he places his hand on the bar. “I just want this so badly.”

“Well maybe don’t.” You say, your fingertips hooking on the loops of his jeans and drawing him taut against you. “Maybe just enjoy the time we have together, without her and wait the year it takes.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt reflected in them as your palms come to rest on his chest.

“I’m just saying put it on pause for now.” You tell him.

“Pause.” He repeats, his hands clasping yours to his heart. “We’ve been on pause before and it damn near ruined us. I want to move forward, I want to marry you-”

“I want that too but this situation, it’s not good for us.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Mitch, I can’t…”

Your voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against yours.

“Sunny.” He says firmly. “We are almost at the finish line.”

“No Mitch, you’re almost at the finished line.” You say pushing him away. “I fell behind ten miles ago but you’ve just been too focused on the goal to notice.”

“Sunny…” He begins but you’re already drawing away from him.

“I have to go.” You say, picking up your guitar case. “I can’t be here right now.”

You leave then and Mitch, he lets you because he knows better than to follow you when you get that resigned tone in your voice. When he gets home that night the lights are off and there’s no trace of you, he realises there’s clothes missing, the overnight bag you usually take on tour.

It’s happening again, he realises. You’re leaving him because Mitch, he just doesn’t fucking listen. He hasn’t been hearing what you’ve been trying to say to him for weeks, you can’t cope with Lola being in his life, you can’t stand to see another woman with his ring on her finger.

You pick up when he calls, he hears the sound of traffic in the background and he knows you’ve already left Tulsa.

“Where you headed?” He asks despondently as he leans back against the door frame of the bedroom, his gaze fixed on the bed he's sleeping alone in tonight.

“Dallas.” You say softly. “There’s a couple of places down there that will give me a gig. Probably Houston after that, Memphis, Nashville.”

It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his chest. With each stop you get further away from him and Mitch isn’t sure that you’ll ever come back.

“Will you come home Sunny?” He pleads, his voice breaking as he says the words “Please?”

“No Mitch.” You say, and he hears the resolution in your voice. “No, I can’t.”

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thlayli-ra]

Trick or treat is such a fun idea!

Could I request a Punkintyre ficlet with the shock collar prompt 🥺 (I would very much appreciate Drew being the one in the collar but I leave the details in your very capable hands)

Ok so, just, let me explain myself here! By the time this prompt came through I had already received the Cody Rhodes 'Shock Collar' prompt and I didn't want to essentially write the same fic so I tried to come up with something different and I couldn't stop thinking about this gifset from Bad Blood and @fantasticalleigh 's tags on it about Punk and Drew being like two beasts mating in captivity, and it made me think of the original Planet of the Apes movie and well... this is the final result. Hope it's kinda, sorta what you were hoping for (I'm sorry!)??? 😬

Trick - 'Shock Collar'

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre

Rating - Mature (18+)

Warning Tags - Alien Abduction, Drugging, Breeding, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Rough Sex

'Punk! Wake up! Wake up, ye stupid prick!'

A meaty palm slapped his cheek, stirring him from his deep sleep. 'Ow!' Punk grunted moodily. 'What the fuck's wrong with you?'

It was then that he saw the raw terror in Drew McIntyre's eyes. 'Everything is wrong! Everything is as fucking wrong as it can possibly be!'

His vision started juddering back into focus and Punk spied the metal above Drew's head. For a split second he thought they were both in the Cell, and that he'd taken a bad bump and passed out during their match but he soon realised that these were not the zig-zag mesh of Hell in a Cell.

These were bars!

They were both locked in some kind of cage!

Punk sat up like a shot to look around. The cage was large, more like an enclosure, and rich in foliage, wiry bushes, dirt and rocks. Punk was lying on a bed of hay in the top-most corner, under a bamboo canopy like some kind of animal in a zoo.

'Drew?' he stammered out. 'Where the hell are we?'

'I have no idea...'

The large Scot lumbered up to his feet and tentatively stepped out from under the canopy and into the make-shift forest. Behind him, Punk gawked when he noticed Drew's attire. Or lack of it! 'What are you wearing?'

Drew glanced down at the sparse shred of clothing to his name - a loin-cloth made from animal pelt draped around his waist and a metal collar around his neck. 'Same as you,' he shot back and Punk looked down and found to his horror that Drew was right. Letting out a curse, he shoved the front of his loin cloth down between his legs to give himself some decency then moved his fingers up to inspect the steel collar at his throat. It was bolted fast. The panic escalated into full-on alarm! 'What the fuck is going on?'

'Shh,' Drew hushed him, his ears pricked.

'You hear something?' Punk whispered.

'Shut up!'

Drew edged his way forward, reaching out his long arm to swipe through a clump of giant leaves and push them aside to reveal-

'JESUS CHRIST!' Drew toppled backwards with fright, landing hard on his lower back.

'FUCK!' Punk yelled, shuffling further back into his corner.

Quick as a flash Drew rushed up beside him, the two men shaking with terror. 'You saw that, right?' the Scot asked.

'Yeah,' Punk hushed out, trying to process what he had just seen. 'Yeah I saw it.'

Behind the leaves there had been a gap in the bars, filled with what looked like glass. A viewing gallery to peer into their enclosure. And there standing at the window were two figures crafted from their very nightmares. Impossibly tall and thin, something not of his world or the limits of his understanding, something that was completely...

...alien!

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek tore through Punk's head. He let out a wail as the pain screeched behind his eyes, covering his ears to try and stifle the blare.

'-creatures of P-0087453-E,' a tinny voice spoke inside Punk's very skull. 'We believe they refer to it as Earth-'

'W-what's happening?' Drew gritted out through his clenched teeth, tearing at his hair. He could hear it too!

'I don't know, I- GAH!'

'-simple creatures, not highly advanced. They can be prone to acts of violence and aggression, acting purely on their most basic urges-'

'I can hear a voice!' Punk yelled over the static in his skull. 'I think... I think it's them. Whatever they are!'

'I hear it too. How is that possible?'

'I have no idea! AAAGHHH!' The pain was growing, like somebody was blasting a badly tuned radio in his head.

'-but incredibly rare and valuable. Which is why our experts identified these two as a fertile pair and brought them here for our breeding programme-'

Punk froze. Had he really heard that right? Or did he just imagine it? Glancing up at Drew he was shocked to find the Scot looking deathly pale. He was afraid the larger man was about to keel over any second and shook him roughly by the shoulder to snap him out of his stupor. 'Hey, you ok?'

'This can't be happening! This is all some fucked up dream. This can't be-'

'-we will start our programme by activating the pheromones in the dominant male-'

Punk's stomach fell out from under him, wondering what on Earth that meant! Perhaps there was some kind of mechanism in the cage that would spray it into the enclosure? Anticipating it, he grabbed in a lungful of air and held it, waiting, listening, watching for anything to happen.

But nothing did.

He released his breath with a loud gasp, coughing oxygen back into his bloodstream. 'I think we're in the clear,' he told Drew, 'I didn't see or hear anything and I don't feel any different so-'

Drew let out a heavy grunt beside him, cutting him off and Punk turned to find the Scot shaking his head like he was trying to fend off an incoming sneeze.

'Drew? What's wrong?'

Drew's head shot up, his gaze finding Punk and fixing on him. His pupils were completely blown, erasing all the blue from his eyes. Making him resemble some kind of wild animal in the woods, a bear or wolf or... no, more like a shark circling the water, smelling fresh blood. Strong and dangerous. And hungry!

Guess he'd just found out who the so-called 'dominant male' was, and if that was Drew, then what exactly did that make Punk?

'Pheromones activated. Now all we have to do is wait and we'll hopefully see the mating rituals of this fascinating species.'

Shhhhhit! 'D-Drew?'

But the larger man wasn't listening! Settling onto his haunches like a crouched tiger, he began to stalk closer to his prey who scrabbled backwards with a yelp but where could Punk go? They were completely caged in and inevitably his spine collided with the metal bars of the cage, cutting off his retreat. Drew was on him now, mammoth arms boxing him in on either side and trapping him completely.

'Drew! Snap out of- urk!'

Punk's heart twisted with fear when Drew's bear paw found his chin, grasped it and lifted it up like he had done so many times before. The black, lifeless eyes looked him all over, Drew tilting his head slightly and giving that exact same elated smirk he'd worn back in the Cell at the first sight of Punk's blood. The hand at his chin then went for his throat, wrapping around Punk's collar and pushing him back until the base of his skull clattered against the bars.

Eyes clouded. No thoughts, only instinct.

'Drew! Hey McIntyre, listen to me!' Punk tried to break through the Scot's hysteria, tried to snap him out of this trance. 'You gotta fight it, you hear me? Fight it!'

But it was in vain. Punk's mouth was abruptly gagged by Drew's invading tongue, the larger man growling and snarling, rumbles vibrating down his throat and through their chests pressed together, while large, thick hands stroked all over Punk's shoulders and back and chest and nipples then trailed down his ribs and stomach and pelvis to-

'NO!' Punk wrenched his face to the side, freeing his mouth. His hand grabbed hold of Drew's wrist, stopping it in its tracks. 'GET OFF! STOP IT, DREW! THIS ISN'T YOU!'

And then the blue flickered back into Drew's eyes and for a brief moment, his humanity returned, only to be engulfed once again. 'No, no, no, no,' Drew pushed himself off of Punk, stumbling away. Punk, still packed tight against the bars of the cage, watched as the Scot roared in distress, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, twisting his head from left-to-right and back again, a man trying to evade a swarm of invisible wasps.

'No,' he growled under his breath. 'No, not like this! Not this way!' Drew blinked the blue back into his eyes, holding onto himself again, however fleetingly. Then turned his attention towards the window of terror hidden away at the far end of the cage. 'No!' he spat at their captors, 'I won't!'

'-hmm, perhaps the first dose wasn't strong enough. Activating a second dosage-'

This time, Punk saw the powder puff up from Drew's metal collar, engulfing his face, and like before he struggled and writhed, trying to evade the poison but it was clinging to him, following him around the enclosure no matter how far he tried to run. His roars filled the air, Punk quaking with fear at its feral nature. Too scared to move, he watched as the huge Scotsman bent down and heaved a huge rock right up out of the ground.

'What the hell is he-?'

Drew rushed towards the observation window, the boulder raised high, meaning to throw it right through the glass and shatter it to smithereens.

'Immediate threat detected. Engaging collar!'

A loud crackle and Drew tossed his head back, screaming in agony. The boulder plunged from his arms and his body soon followed, both hitting the floor with a crash.

Punk leapt up to his feet, his heart in his throat.

'There, that should pacify him-'

But their captors grossly underestimated the fortitude of their prisoner. 'I'm no some beast in a cage,' he croaked, dragged his arms under him to push himself up, 'and you won't reduce me to one!'

'Shock him again!'

Another crackle and Drew fell onto his back, spine rigid and arched painfully off the filthy floor, howling through his gritted teeth, until the shockwave released him and all four limbs flopped, lifelessly. From his position by the bars, Punk held his breath, looking for any sign of life.

It all seemed hopeless. Until Drew rolled his hips back.

Unbelievably, he flipped up onto his feet in a perfect kip-up, just like he would in the ring and before they had a chance to shock him again, he grabbed up the boulder and launched it through the air with all his might.

'WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!'

Drew went down with another terrible shockwave just as the boulder crashed against the glass, not shattering it but creating a crack that almost split the screen in two. Only this time, the gruelling torture didn't stop. The shocks continued, the Scot's body contorted horribly, flailing rigidly in the dirt. Punk rushed towards him, hearing the electricity running through his fellow wrestler, seeing the turmoil on his face. He looked towards that window of terror, and the creatures hidden behind the fractured spiderweb of broken glass.

'That's enough!' he yelled towards it, hoping that, by some miracle, if he could hear those things that they could hear him too. 'You'll kill him! Stop!'

But still the jolts continued, one after the other. And now Drew wasn't screaming anymore and Punk could see froth foaming at his mouth, his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head.

'I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!'

Still nothing. Punk's head went blank with panic, desperation.

'WE'LL DO IT! WE'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST TURN OFF THE COLLAR FOR FUCK'S SAKE!'

And finally... the crackling stopped. Followed by dreadful silence, highlighting the heavy breathing of both men and the putrid smell of burning flesh in the air.

'Punk...'

Punk's eyes found Drew's weakly fluttering back at him, pain-filled and weak. Ringed by the tiniest sliver of blue. 'It's ok, Drew, it's alright.'

'No... don't...'

Looking around him, Punk found the perfect spot and shuffled over to a large, flat rock. Slumping down to his knees, he bent over and lay atop the cold surface, lifting his hips up into the air.

Nothing happened. He looked back to find Drew where he left him, refusing to move.

'Come on Drew, it's alright. Just do as they say.' The Scot shook his head stubbornly. 'One little fuck isn't worth killing yourself over. Anyway, isn't this what you've wanted this whole time?'

'Not like this,' Drew choked out with a sob.

'If they kill one of us, they'll kill both of us,' Punk protested. 'The only chance we have of getting out of this is by sticking together.'

But still, Drew refused to move.

Punk sighed with defeat. Turning his face away, he placed his cheek against the cold rock and whispered, 'hit him with the pheromones again.'

From behind him, he could hear Drew call 'what did you just- urgh!' Then he held his breath and waited.

It didn't take long for Drew to crawl over, sniffing like a curious beast at Punk's rear. The tattooed man flinched when his loin cloth was ripped up, exposing his open cheeks and Drew mounted him from behind, his hairy chest and stomach rubbing up against his bare back. Two huge fists wrapped around Punk's skinny wrists and held them down, keeping Punk securely pinned on his front to the rock face as Drew rubbed his sopping wet and rock hard dick between Punk's glutes, prodding his head around until it lined up against his puckered hole.

Then rammed himself in. Punk choked on a cry of pain, a terrible burning at his rectum as he was stretched wide and entered. The beast on his back hooking himself into his body, breaking through the seal and into his guts, tearing him open.

No thoughts, only instinct.

And Punk closed his eyes and tried to fight the growing ache between his own legs and Drew's hands shackling his wrists tightly, and his warm breath grunting against his ear and his sweat falling onto Punk's back and pooling in that small hollow at the base of his spine and his huge dick ravishing him again and again.

But soon the blood and the pre-cum lubricated his passage, and Drew began to move easier and the thrusts became long and powerful and struck that perfect little sweet spot deep inside of him and Punk began to hear the crackles in his own skull and see the explosions of electricity behind his own eyelids and in an instant, he forgot the cage, the window, their plight and he became lost in the throes of the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. Opening his thighs up wider to entice Drew in even further, his lips fell open and he moaned, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the stone beneath him.

Drew began to pump in harder, scrubbing Punk's naked chest against the jagged rock and Punk was so helpless, caught in the larger man's strong grip and he couldn't help but love his helplessness, being held down and bred like a bitch in heat, all while being watched, being observed. A thought bubbled to the surface of his consciousness, wondering if he too had been hit with some kind of pheromone to muddle his senses but it fell away again when Drew hit his bundle of nerves head-on with the blunt tip of his dick. His own cock was full to bursting and it was too much to bear and when he let out a strangled cry, Drew obliged him by letting go of his wrist and grabbing him between the legs, pumping his shaft with a taut grip, the pad of his thumb teasing his slit.

'Fascinating! We always wondered how two males of this species mated and now we know it's through the-'

Punk went blind and deaf and even the blaring static in his head was drowned out as warm cum seeped into him and out of him, sopping from his wrecked hole and between his swollen cheeks and down his ragged thighs onto the dirt below. Drew collapsed onto him, nuzzling his face into the hollow between Punk's shoulder blades and kissed his flushed skin tenderly. 'S'you ok?' was all Punk's numb lips could form. Drew answered with a throaty purr.

Later, the pair were up on the hay under the canopy, Punk firmly snuggled in Drew's arms, both of them fast asleep. But something stirred the tattooed man slightly from his slumber, a tinny voice echoing around his skull.

'-a success. But this is only phase one of our breeding programme. Tomorrow we'll prep the submissive male for surgery and move into phase two-'

[soulofapatrick]

We Are Everything - Rhysand x female reader

Summary: Rhys gets jealous of how close you are with Cassian and Azriel 

Words: 2.7K 

Warnings: None really

Y/N's POV

Every inch of me is on fire as Azriel and I land in the House of Wind, a dull ache spreading through my muscles from a day that’s been nothing short of brutal. Today, for the first time, I manifested Illyrian wings—the heavy, powerful weight of them still unfamiliar against my back. Each beat had been a struggle, the strain leaving me barely able to stand now. My body hums with fatigue, my bones echoing with the effort it took to stay aloft.

Azriel’s hand remains firm around my arm, guiding me as we step into the living room. I’m barely aware of who’s present, only that the comforting warmth of home surrounds me—until I hear a soft scoff.

I lift my head and catch Nesta’s narrowed gaze flicking over me, her lips curled in the faintest sneer. Her eyes linger on my trousers, the mud-streaked leather, the sweat still clinging to my skin. There's a flash of disdain that I know all too well; she doesn’t even need to say it for her message to be clear. A woman should be in dresses, not leather, and definitely not training.

But after the day I’ve had, I can’t bring myself to care. Not even Nesta’s sharp look can touch the quiet pride pulsing in my chest, the satisfaction of the wings still heavy against my back.

Nesta’s sneer sharpens as I meet her gaze, her mouth twisting just a bit more. “I suppose now you think you’re an Illyrian warrior,” she says, voice dripping with that familiar disdain. “I hope you don’t expect us all to start dressing like… that.”

I’m too tired to even form a response, so instead, I lift a hand and flip her the bird without breaking stride. I hear a scoff and what might be a muttered insult, but I’m already focused on my destination: the couch, where Cassian is stretched out, watching with one raised brow and a smirk playing on his lips.

With legs shaking and every muscle burning, I stumble forward, letting myself collapse right onto the couch beside him. A pained groan slips from my lips as I finally let my body go slack, my head falling onto Cassian’s strong, solid thighs like a pillow carved from pure muscle.

Cassian’s smirk softens into something warmer, and without a word, his hand moves to my hair, his fingers gently working through the strands. The slow, soothing strokes seem to untangle more than just my hair, easing away the worst of the day’s strain. I close my eyes, letting out a contented sigh as I feel the stress of training begin to melt away under his touch.

At the other end of the couch, I feel a soft pressure at my feet. Cracking one eye open, I find Azriel crouched by my boots, unlacing them with a care and gentleness that almost surprises me. His touch is reverent, his shadows coiling protectively around him as he works. He glances up, his gaze meeting mine for just a moment, and there’s a flicker of warmth there—softer than his usual stoicism, an almost brotherly affection that makes my heart ache in a different way.

Between Cassian’s gentle touch in my hair and Azriel’s careful hands unlacing my boots, I feel myself drifting, the weight of exhaustion pulling me under.

The fatigue in my body is overwhelming, but Cassian’s touch is a balm, gentle and soothing. His fingers comb through my hair with a rhythm that almost lulls me to sleep, and Azriel’s presence at my feet grounds me in a way that lets me fully surrender to the moment. The ache in my bones is nearly forgotten under the weight of their care, but then, something else tugs at my chest—a pull that is different, sharper, than the weariness I’ve felt all day.

It’s not physical, but it aches all the same. My heart stirs, and my eyes flutter open in confusion. There, standing in the doorway, is Rhysand. His dark wings are tightly folded, his posture rigid, his expression taut with something I can’t quite place. His eyes find me instantly, pinning me in place, and that ache in my chest grows stronger. It’s a subtle thing, an invisible thread pulling me toward him.

Cassian’s fingers stop mid-stroke in my hair, his hand freezing when he catches the tension in the air. I can feel it, too. The room feels suddenly charged, the air heavy with unspoken words. Rhysand’s jaw tightens, and he lets out a low sound—almost a growl—as his gaze flicks from Cassian’s hand in my hair to my face, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a ripple of heat through me.

“Cassian,” Rhysand’s voice is a dangerous whisper, rough with barely restrained control. “Stop touching her.”

The words hit me like a shock to my system, and for a moment, I forget to breathe. Cassian’s hand stirs in my hair one last time before pulling away, his fingers trembling slightly as if reluctant to let go. The sudden absence of his touch makes my skin burn for a moment, and I fight the instinct to reach for him, to beg him not to stop.

I’m too tired to care about the tension, too exhausted to hold back the words that tumble from my mouth. “Go away, Rhysand,” I murmur, my voice thick with sleep and a quiet defiance. “I’m tired, and I’m comfy. Let me be.”

There’s a sharpness in Rhysand’s eyes, something deep and possessive that makes my pulse quicken. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak for a long beat. Even Nesta, who usually doesn’t hide her distaste, falls silent, her sneer melting into something unreadable as she watches. Feyre, tucked behind her book, raises a brow but doesn’t look up from the pages, the quiet understanding in her gaze making me wonder if she’s seen this before.

I feel the tension crackle between us, thick enough to make the room feel smaller, the air too heavy to breathe easily. Rhysand doesn’t leave, but neither does he approach, his eyes still fixed on me with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver up my spine.

Cassian, on the other hand, remains still, his hand resting just inches from my hair, his touch gone but the heat of it lingering. His fingers twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to return to their soothing rhythm, but he stays where he is, a silent promise in the way his eyes meet mine. The unspoken connection between us is undeniable.

But Rhysand, still standing in the doorway, seems to fill the entire space with a tension that’s almost suffocating. I want to resist the pull in my chest, want to ignore the way he makes everything inside me tighten, but I’m too tired. And right now, all I want is to rest in the warmth of the moment, to let the world fade away around me.

With a soft sigh, I close my eyes again, refusing to acknowledge the storm brewing in the room. “Go away, Rhysand,” I whisper once more, this time my words gentler, though my resolve is still firm.

I’m too comfortable here. Too safe. Too-

Rhysand’s eyes flash, the storm within him no longer hidden. Without a word, he crosses the room in two large strides, his presence towering and undeniable. Before I can even register what’s happening, his arms are around me, lifting me off the couch in one fluid motion.

The sudden shift in position, the abruptness of his actions, has me gasping in pain. My body protests, every muscle aching from the day’s training, the weight of my wings still unfamiliar. The sharp tug in my chest grows, but it’s not just the ache from my wings anymore—this pain is raw, burning through me, made worse by his hurriedness.

I cry out, the sound torn from my throat before I can control it.

Rhys’s expression falters for a split second, his eyes darkening as if the pain I’ve felt only deepens his own anger. But there’s no pause. No apology. He holds me tighter, his jaw clenched so hard I can see the muscles twitch under his skin. His chest heaves with every breath, but the world around us seems to shrink with the intensity of the moment.

Without warning, the air ripples with the unmistakable feeling of his magic, and I’m yanked away from the House of Wind. The world blurs, the room fading into nothingness before I even have a chance to react.

We’re somewhere else—far from the House of Wind. The air is colder, crisper, and the scent of pine fills my senses. My eyes snap open to find myself in a cozy cabin nestled in the mountains, the dim light from a crackling fire casting soft shadows across the room.

Rhysand doesn’t put me down immediately. His grip on me is firm, possessive, and though his anger hasn’t subsided, there’s something more in his gaze now. Something… unreadable. He’s still holding me against his chest, his heart beating wildly under my ear as I try to steady my breath.

I’m still cradled in his arms, my body weak and aching, and yet, with his warmth enveloping me, I can’t help but feel a strange comfort. The pain from the abrupt winnowing is still there, but it’s swallowed by the closeness of his presence, by the way he holds me so tightly, almost as if he’s afraid to let go.

His voice comes low, rough, and edged with frustration. “What the hell were you thinking, pushing yourself like that?”

Rhysand’s gaze softens, just for a moment, and then he’s moving, cradling me against his chest as he strides toward the bedroom. Every step is measured, careful, as though he’s afraid any jostling might worsen the ache in my body. When he lays me down on the bed, I feel a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that makes my heart twist painfully.

For a brief, fragile moment, I think I might cry. There’s something in his eyes—a rare vulnerability, a glimmer of guilt and protectiveness so intense it makes my throat tighten. I’m too tired, too sore, to unravel the depth of it, but the ache that had been nagging in my chest spreads, a tender warmth and longing all at once.

Without a word, Rhys turns toward the en-suite, the sound of water filling the silence as he begins to run a bath. My body throbs with the lingering pain of the winnowing, muscles still tensed from the sudden shift. Yet, as I watch him turn away, that ache only deepens, twisting through me, begging him not to leave my side.

Almost on instinct, my hand reaches out, finding his fingers just as he starts to pull away. I can barely speak, my voice a hushed whisper. “Don’t… don’t go.” My fingers tighten around his, not caring about pride or pretence in this moment—just the desperate need for his warmth, his steadiness, here with me.

Rhysand stops, his back still turned to me, but I feel his hand squeeze mine, firm and reassuring. Slowly, he turns back, his expression melting from tense determination into something softer, something full of unspoken promises. His thumb brushes across my knuckles as he kneels down beside the bed, his gaze meeting mine.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering, his expression unreadable for a beat, but his hand tightens around mine, his thumb still tracing slow circles on my skin. He lets me pull him onto the bed beside me, his weight dipping the mattress just enough that I can feel the warmth of him, smell the faint, familiar scent of night-blooming jasmine and sea salt, something uniquely Rhysand that fills the air and makes my head spin.

He’s so close now, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip. The firelight flickers, casting a warm glow across his sharp features, softening the fierce determination in his gaze. My breath catches as I study him, and I can feel the unspoken words that seem to hover between us, thickening the air.

The air between us pulses with an ache, heavy and electric, and I can barely breathe under the weight of it. Tugging him closer, I pull Rhys to me until his face is so close I can feel the whisper of his breath against my lips. His dark gaze flickers over my face, full of need, tenderness, and something fierce that makes my heart stammer.

“Is this what I think it is?” I breathe, my voice a trembling thread. My fingers brush the line of his jaw, feeling his muscles clench beneath my touch. He stares at me like I’m the only thing in existence, his eyes wild and searching, his body still but tense, as if he’s holding back a torrent of feeling.

His lips part slightly, a faint, shaky exhale escaping. “And what do you think it is?” His voice is rough, his words both a challenge and an invitation.

My heart pounds, my throat tight with the overwhelming truth of it all. I hold his gaze, each beat of silence heavy with meaning, before I finally say, “You’re my mate.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, his expression crumbles—relief, joy, and something almost like disbelief flashing across his face, only to be replaced by a fierce, desperate devotion. His hands come up to cradle my face, his thumb grazing my cheek as if afraid I’ll vanish. He leans in, his gaze soft yet blazing with unspoken words, with promises and feelings he’s held back for far too long.

“Say it again,” he whispers, his voice trembling, thick with emotion. His eyes are locked on mine, as if needing to burn the moment into his memory, to let the words settle into his very bones.

“You’re my mate, Rhys,” I say, barely more than a breath, but I pour every ounce of feeling into it. It’s the truth, raw and undeniable.

And before I can take another breath, he closes the gap, his lips crashing onto mine, and the world falls away. His kiss is desperate, searing, full of longing that has simmered for what feels like a lifetime. He kisses me as if he’s starved for it, as if I’m the only thing that can soothe the ache inside him, and the intensity of it ignites something deep within me, spreading like wildfire.

His hands tangle in my hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulls me closer, holding me like he’s afraid to let go. Each touch, each press of his lips, is fierce, claiming, yet achingly tender. His kiss is everything—demanding, gentle, passionate—and I feel myself melting into him, my body surrendering to the rhythm of his, every fibre of me aligning with him.

His lips leave mine just long enough for us to gasp for breath, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re dark with longing, with love, his forehead resting against mine as if he’s grounding himself in me.

“I’ve wanted this—needed this—for so long,” he murmurs, his voice rough and unsteady, his hands framing my face, thumbs brushing along my cheekbones.

“Then don’t let go,” I whisper, voice trembling with emotion.

His gaze softens, but the desperation remains, and he kisses me again, deeper this time, with a kind of reverence that makes my heart ache. It’s as if he’s pouring his very soul into me, as if his love, his devotion, is something he can no longer contain. His arms wrap around me, pulling me impossibly close, our bodies aligning, the world outside forgotten.

In this moment, we are everything.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222

[razorblade180]

Built to Break

Trigger warning: Torture and dark themes

Continuation of this<-

In life, it’s said all actions cause a reaction; consequences that could be seen while others remained elusive until the final moment. Mona never found herself to be an elusive figure, yet as she stared into the widened, cold gaze of her mother, Mona knew immediately that she had been as poised as her hidden dagger.

“Talk?” Her mother said with a dry venom. “The hell do we have to talk about? Untie me!”

“Wow. Not even gonna ask about dad? Then again, why would you? He couldn’t even bother to sober up

enough to see you choking on smoke. Or maybe he simply didn’t care?” Mona picked up her knife, causally spinning it. “Anyways, he’s dead now.”

“Did I ask?”

“No, but I doubt you understand how. You were never that fucking bright.”

“You killed him.” Her eyes narrowed. She did her best to move her arms but the ropes wouldn’t allow it. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You’ve always been an opportunistic rat.”

“Says the woman who whored out her own daughters. You’re only half right by the way. An opportunistic rat would’ve used the blaze to commit a crime like murder or abduction.”

“And what the hell would you call all of this?”

“Simple, it was planned. After all, I am the one who started the fire.”

Mona’s mother went stiff, her blood running cold as the girl flashed a horrific grin that found this situation marvelous. Mona finally stood up and began circling around the chair.

“That’s right. It was all me. Took awhile to get that much Dust but hey, it was worth the sight. Although I should’ve guessed dad would simply remain drunk off his own ass in that chair of his. It honestly looked like he wanted to go. I mean being with you is practically being de-”

Tuh!

A lob of spit hit Mona right in the face. Her eyes darted towards her mother who was now seething. Mona ran her left hand across where the spit landed then flicked it back at the sender.

“Rude. I’m talking.” She stopped right in front of the chair and squatted real low, her gaze fixated on the anger directed towards her. “You’re forgetting your own rule. I thought we were supposed to be accommodating to those holding the power?”

Without warning, Mona’s knife found a new home in the woman’s right thigh. Before she could even yell, Mona gripped her jaw like a vice and yanked her close enough to bite.

“Yell and I will drag the knife down and pop out your knee.” She pushed her mother away and stood back up. A strained chuckle left her throat as she shook herself off. “Wooo! Hehe, got a little real there for a second. Damn, still know how to get under my skin I guess.”

“Th-The hell do you want? The fuck is this all about!?” Her voice trembled as she held back the pain.

“Finally getting emotional are we? The stone cold bitch attitude was never for you anyway. Don’t get me wrong; you’re definitely cold and a bitch. The last thing you’ll ever be is stone though. No, you’ve always been brittle. Not to mention stupid. You can’t guess why I’m here? Are you serious? If we’re playing that game then fine, I can play. So then, mother, aren’t you going to ask me if my dear little sister survived the fire?”

“Oh you can not be serious?” Rage returned. “All this for Amber? Last time I checked, you didn’t give a rat's ass about her when you ran away! Now you wanna care?! FUCK Y-”

Another knife flew through the air and found a home in the woman’s left shoulder.

“Gah! Aaagh!”

Mona put her right leg on the chair and leaned forward, looking down on her mother’s writhing face. “You really have to learn to mind your tone.” She pushed it in deeper, letting her mother’s screams echo through the metal pillars until she was sure her knife hit bone. Mona yanked the blade in her mom’s leg out and took a few steps back again to watch.

Blood now stained burnt clothes covered in ash. The pathetic excuse for a person was coughing on her own spit as she gasped in the brief agony inflicted on her body, which only prolonged the pain.

Mona rolled her eyes. “Look at you, practically drooling. What, forget how to swallow? You sure as hell made certain I didn’t. How many personal lessons did you give Amber and I? They were always so much more brutal than the real deal. How you managed that, I’ll never know.”

“So it’s all about revenge?” Her lungs wheeze as she took a sharp breath before coughing again. “Gonna do everything I ever taught you eh?”

“Fuck no. If anybody wanted your body then maybe your hands wouldn’t have been busy on us and taking lien from your old clients in exchange for fresh blood. Must’ve been a dream come true. Vacuo’s most known whore was finally free, or maybe it pissed you off that after getting pregnant from a nobody, you became one too? One child robbed you off all your worth, and apparently your looks. Guess I was born a thief.”

“You are lucky to be born at all!”

“Am I though? Should I be grateful that I have your hair? Eyes that people can’t get enough of? You’d sell those too if it was worth the cost.”

“Oh cry me river.” She growled. “You’ve been away from me for years now and all you get up to is stealing and choosing when to choke on a dick for your own profit! Don’t act like you’re torn up about it.”

Mona spun the tip of her knife on her finger. “True enough I guess. Not like there were many options I could think of at…how old was I? Eh, as if it matters. I’d probably remember if you ever sent me to school, or taught me anything that didn’t involve submitting. All that money you made off of me and nothing to show for it. What was I saying again? Oh right, I was gutter trash who only knew two ways to make money well. No fucking shit I used it.”

“Then you understand exactly where I’m-”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m still talking, and that sentence sounded dangerously close to hurting your good leg.”

Mona threw the knife right between both legs. She walked over and startled her mother, pulling the knife out in the process. “You know…if kids really caused you so much trouble in your life, I can help make sure you never have them again.”

The blade tore away a sliver of the burnt shirt around her abdomen. Panic fought its way into her brain as Mona’s cold eyes told her that wasn’t a joke.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” Mona said calmly.

“N-No.”

“No, what?”

Tears welled up. “No ma’am.”

“Heh, good girl. I guess you do remember how to act.” Mona brought the knife up to catch her mother’s tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. It’s pretty ugly. Maybe that’s why those idiots didn’t care much when Amber wept.”

“Wh-What have you heard?”

“Nothing really. Just that you were strapped for money again so you did what you always do. As long as the price is high enough, anyone is an option. How much?”

“…I-”

“How much?”

“10,000 lien! They paid 10,000 lien!”

“That’s all it took for you to hand Amber to two huntsmen so inept they couldn’t even handle a starving teenager fending them off without killing her. I didn’t even bother asking them what set her off, or if she cried. Let’s be real, we both know she did.”

“You found them?”

“Did you think foreign huntsman could kill a girl and Ruby Rose wouldn’t be all over it. Now that’s a mother. Had those two in a cell immediately and the knees made the rounds, which I’m guessing is how you heard that 10,000 lien had cost you everything. You ask why I care? Amber was nothing like me and you knew that.

Mona got up and kicked the chair, shattering it with ease and causing her mother to fall down onto the cold, sandy and metal flooring. The chains restringing her to the chair were now useless, bot the set personally bounding her legs. Mona attached her wrists together and put the link on a hook while her mother groaned. Mona took back her second knife to inflict more pain before walking over to a metal beam with a button she pressed. The hook rose, dragging a body up with it until her toes grazed the ground.

“Agh! Please, enough! I get it! You’re pissed! I fucked up!”

“Your entire life is a fuck up, and I don’t remember saying I was pissed off. You’ve done so much to me that I think I’m full circle on it. After all, you did teach me one thing about myself you never intended.”

“I…I did?” She huffed, twitching as Mona got close again.

“Put people under enough stress, and you see what they’re made of; you can see how they break. I learned long ago I was made to be broken. To be put back together as needed and torn down if need be. That’s why I don’t mind how my life has shaped out to be. It’s why I cared to come after you. I don’t give up a fuck about you! Amber however, you broke her even before I even ran away and you knew it. She stopped speaking, thinking, being anything. Amber was basically a doll. How was I supposed to take her away with me? I had no shelter. Everyone knew who we belonged to! Mother fucker, I’VE ALWAYS CARED!” Mona hissed, her eyes stinging. “You made it impossible to leave with her! Like you said, I kept doing what you taught me cause I had nowhere to go, and Amber was never built to take that life! You took my sister and left behind the pieces. Now those don’t even exist anymore and I’m left falling apart again because maybe I should’ve ran off with her anyways?! Hehe haha! It’s so STUPID! You do everything wrong and yet I’m the one feeling like a fuck up? I can barely keep down my dinner.”

Mona’s head buzzed, causing her to hold it in discomfort. She really felt like she might vomit. Was it rage, or guilt? She didn’t know or care. She just knew what she always did. “This is such bullshit.”

Her mother had given up hope of trying to escape. All her cuts had been to cause pain and bleed, but even she could tell none of them were fatal. “O-Okay. Okay, I- I’m sorry. You made your point. Just turn me in already and I’ll confess to everything.” She pleaded.

Mona’s eyes looked at the woman with a burning indifference. “Even now, you barely pay attention. Do you think you’re getting out of this before breaking? I should at least give it my all. Just like you did for us.” She spun her knives. “Every place they left a mark, I’m going to put on you. Hold out until then.”

Panic came back with a single step forward. Tears mixed with ash, sweat, grime as her heart pounded. She practically jumped out of her skin as Mona held her face still.

“I’ll keep them shallow. Those hurt the worst.” Mona slid the blade across her right cheek, drawing blood. “I thought I told you crying made you ugly. For once, you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes!” She sniffed, terrified of her own creation. “I’ll do whatever you say. Then-then I go, right?”

“Haha, as long as you listen then yes, I will let you go.” Mona took a step back and smiled, watching her mother smile back faintly. “Although…I don’t think I heard a ma’am after that, yes. Someone isn’t a good rule follower.”

And just like that, light faded from the woman’s eyes, matching her daughter’s. “N..No.” tears ran down in full force. “I-I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!” Mona got closer…

“And now you’re yelling and crying again. That’s three strikes already. Pfft, oh well. It’s like you told me once, some people only learn after the punishment. Try not to see dad too soon for me. Speaking of seeing…” Mona held her mother’s eyes open. “Might as well start here.”

“St-STOP! STAAAAAHHHHP!”