#space geezers

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Simply because Emerald wishes to see the future,

she and the Inspector end up on what seems like an abandoned space station … which turns out to be home to a bunch of doddering pensionsers.

[todayisafridaynight]

i solemnly swear not to write a fic with a similar premise as one ive done in the past but also i like it when people slow dance.....

[spreadtunes22]

End Of The Beginning

[ngeruma]

"Rainbow Space Mansion" | Perpetual Testing #274

By Geezer

An unusual take on portal puzzles where we need to consider colour and position to make the necessary connections whilst using the inbuilt teleportation system to get around an entirely new test facility created by and eccentric trillionaire, in space, …for some reason. I’d say for the view more than anything, but hey what do I know.

Full Video

More Test Chambers

[spacelazarwolf]

Sorry but it’s true, I’ve never met a person over 30 who wasn’t weird and creepy. Young people deserve a safe space away from that

killing myself on the eve of my 30th birthday lest i become a cringe and uncool geezer who is unrelatable to the youths.

[apollos-boyfriend]

the worst part is he’s literally one of the nicest sweetest kids i know and fully meant it without any malice or spite in his heart but also goddamn little buddy you’re gonna kill someone with your words one of these days

i’m gonna cry my mom and brother were talking about those like apple vision glasses (my brother’s a big tech bro) and my mom brought up her concern over the lack of human connection and isolation widespread use of those could cause, only for my little cousin (the 9 year old) to go, “it’s okay auntie! by the time those become popular, you’ll be dead!”

[pricegouge]

Haul

Part Three MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: noncon nudity, noncon touching, graphic depiction of injuries

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.   If you survive this indeed, though.

You count distance in the taste of fabric on your tongue. As hours and miles pass, the cotton fades from heavy copper, to salt-lick piquant. The trailer heats with the rising sun, metal hull hotboxing you in. The tight space you're kept in is padded, probably for sound proofing though you're almost grateful for it, given how it prevents you from burning yourself on the corrugated siding.

It's hard to guess how much time passes. It feels like days, but the trailer does not go through a cooling cycle, nor do you die of dehydration, so you assume only a handful of hours pass. You spend them drifting in and out of consciousness, wishing you had enough wherewithal to try escaping. Unfortunately, with the heat and the dark comes exhaustion, and with the adrenaline crash comes intense pain so you do little more than catalog injuries when you can concentrate enough to do so. 

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.  

If you survive this indeed, though.

Poor Ash. She may have been a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to go out like that. It's hard to stop the tears when you think of her but you try anyway, knowing full well that further inflaming your face isn't going to do anyone any good. You wonder why they kept you alive - why Ash didn't make the cut. Or, did, you suppose. Maybe they felt two victims would have been too difficult to deal with. Maybe they thought Ash, who was still able to get around quite well, would've been too much of a handful. 

Maybe you're trying to reason with hurricane season, as it were, find rationality where there was none. These men were motivated by something you'd never understand and perhaps it was best not to waste your efforts on it. Still, it's hard to move past Simon and Gaz's brief exchange. 

'For cap?'

'For all of us.'

The thought of being shared by them made your stomach turn, but the thought that there was another one - one they evidently often brought victims back home to - that was even worse.

'Captain,' you sneer. You can't help but picture some old geezer who couldn't pull his own victims anymore; real Texas Chainsaw shit. The boys would probably have to hold you down so he could wax poetic at you about what a good hauler he used to be, help him lift a tire iron so he could get his rocks off. It would be enough to make you laugh, if it didn't feel like the tire iron was already whaling on you.

Still, you suppose knowing your fate lies with an old man and his lackeys is better than the alternative; even in your current state you know a truck with a soundproofed false back generally spells human trafficking for anyone with the misfortune to find themselves stuck in one. Your prospect doesn't make you happy by any means, but you suppose the enemy you know is better. Even if that enemy is a group of known killers. 

It's not too long after the trailer starts to cool that the quality of the roads changes; long, smooth interstate giving way to potholed, winding highway. You grit your teeth each time you're jostled, groan every time you remember your jaw is actually your biggest source of pain. 

The passiveness with which you wonder about our whereabouts surprises you, but you're so exhausted you don't hold yourself too accountable for that. It's not until the truck slows to a stop that you sit up straighter, heartbeat hammering when the back up alarm confirms your fears that you have arrived at your destination. They let you sit for a while after. Long enough to get cold. There's the occasional sound of air brakes firing and you figure you're in some sort of lot. You try yelling for help a few times, but between the gag in your mouth and the soundproofing around you, your cries go unanswered.

At least you hope that's the reason. Otherwise this entire lot is filled with people who are in on this potential trafficking ring and Simon's words echo even more ominously in your ears. 

A quiet rattling form the end of the trailer tells you when they open the doors hours later. The truck engine roars to life seconds after, backing up the final few feet necessary to slam into the loading dock hard enough to make a gruff voice from within yell. 

It's unfamiliar, makes you steady yourself harder against the unknown quality of it. You figure this must be Cap, feel some small sense of satisfaction when the old, ragged voice matches what you'd pictured. You listen intently as pallets are cleared away, the loud clatter of the jack ringing even through your soundproofing. There's a lower murmur of laughter, the boys regaling the older man with a story you can't quite hear but can definitely infer. When the truck is fully unloaded, their heavy boots tread the short runway - Johnny's truck, then; you'd wondered who you'd been riding with -, their voices coming clearer as they draw near. 

"- banged up, but mostly from the crash," you hear Simon rumble. 

Johnny's next, his grating brogue echoing within the trailer, "Well, except her nose. We can thank Gaz for that one."

"She can thank herself for it," Gaz snarks back, and you would bite your tongue if you could. There's a beat of silence. You can almost feel the heavy gaze their silent captain turns on Gaz, prompting him to elaborate, "She ran. Not very fast. When I caught up, she tried bite me so I headbutted her a little."

"A little!?" Johnny cries, but is cut off by a gruff scoff.

"No way to treat our new guest, Kyle. Go on, make it up to her. Bring her out here."

You expect something dramatic, like a flood of blinding light or strong hands reaching in to yank you out. Instead, when the panel is pulled back, the indirect light from the building is mostly blocked by the row of bodies in front of you, and Gaz squats off to the side, body language friendly and inviting despite the coldness you can feel radiating from him. This man hates you, you can feel it. You remember how he wanted to kill you, wish you could tell him the feeling was mutual. Rather, you stare at him loathingly until he tires of your inaction, leans in to grab you by the zip ties that bind your feet and cuts them with a knife you didn't even see him pull. When he grabs your wrists and pulls, you resist as much as you're able but in the end you're no match and he pulls you from your hideaway with little more than a grunt of pain and annoyance when you elbow him in the ribs.

"Feisty one, is she?" the captain's low growl observes and you turn to the newcomer with fury in your eyes which stalls out when you take him in properly for the first time.

You're disappointed to discover he's not as old as you'd been expecting. Nowhere near, in fact. Mid forties most likely, early fifties at absolute most. And densely built enough to speak of a physicality far younger. None of them were small, but the captain still managed to look big among them - nearly as tall as Simon and just as broad as Johnny, though it looked a little leaner on him given his height. You think the worst part about him is how genial he looks. Like Gaz, he's a brand of handsome that comes with charm and approachability, and you wonder how long it will take for that facade to crack like Gaz's did. Worse, if it ever will.

Certainly, his voice is disarmingly sweet when he greets you, coos and calls you a dove. "Weren't lying were they, love? Did a number on the poor girl, Ghost."

Simon - Ghost? - grunts in acknowledgement, motions for you to step closer. You don't, of course, and get a sharp shove from Gaz which sends you stumbling toward the larger men, caught by a firm hand on your bad shoulder. You yelp, breath heaving behind your gag as Cap adjusts his grip, studying you by your hip instead as his eyes dart to Simon.

"Shoulder. Maybe collar bone. Happened when she flipped her car." When you flipped it. Right.

The older man tuts dissapprovingly. You try to swat his hands away but stumble without his support. He ignores you anyway, hand returning easily while the other reaches up to carefully grip the edge of the duct tape. "Can't be easy to breathe in there, can it doll? Not with that poor nose. Let's get this off, shall we? Easy," he soothes, voice a low pur. His task hurts like hell anyway, the sticky strip pulling your tender, swollen skin. He's gentle about it at least, murmuring sympathetically when you can't contain your whimpers. You don't judge yourself too harshly when a few tears slip through, but do very much so when his thumbing them away twists your stomach unexpectedly. 

It's just because you haven't seen tenderness all night, you reason, and resolve yourself against him, even as he removes the gag with utmost delicacy.

"That better, dove?" he asks when your breaths come quicker, deeper. It's like resurfacing after being submerged for too long, clarity coming to you like a cold breeze on soaked skin: this is a calm meant to put you at ease, but you will die here if you become complacent.

So when Cap tells you to call him John and asks what your name is, you spit at him, blood and mucus staining his shoes.

The boys go quiet, like a record scratch moment in an old b-movie. You stare up at John defiantly, waiting for him to scream at you, hit you - anything.

Instead, he just pulls a pocket knife from his pants, grabs your bindings when you go to flinch away. "You've had a long day, love," he starts as he slips the thin blade between your wrists. Your skin is tender there, rubbed raw from the tight binds. The cool blade feels sharp despite the care he takes to aim the edge away from you, never once letting it touch your skin. "You've had a long day, so I'm going to let you get away with that this time." When he pulls against the zip ties, they cut into your skin briefly before giving with a sharp twang. He pulls one of your wrists into his free hand, rubs the raw skin there with a calloused palm before taking the other wrist in his grasp and giving it the same treatment. "But the next time you misbehave will not go well for you. Understood?"

Of course, you don't listen. Fuck this guy for real, you figure. What's the worst he can do? Kill you?

This time, when you go to spit at him, he catches it against his palm, wide hand slapping over your mouth so hard you're breifly concerned for your good cheek. You gasp in shock and pain, nearly choking on your own spit. John steps closer, one boot knocking your foot wide to let himself between your legs. He's so close, if he moved his palm you'd be breathing the same air.

As it stands, you can barely breathe at all, nose flush against the fat side of his hand. His own breath fans across your skin, heavy and hot as a bellows. The quality of it is thick, humid. You're glad you can't smell anything because it feels like it reeks. 

"Simon, she give you a name?"

Ghost's uncomfortable movement is obvious in its silence. "Took to calling 'er Betty."

"Betty," John repeats, lips curling in amusement. "Like an old timey, proper little wife. That you, pet?" You wanna shake your head, fear for your sinus cavity if you do. "Not yet, eh? Gonna have to train you up first. Ease you into it." As if in demonstration, his body sags into your own, presence oppressive. "That's okay, pet. We'll start you off easy. Get you nice and clean, get you fed. In the morning, Kyle will help with your injuries and when you feel more like a proper lady, we'll try again, hm?"

You can't say anything, so you don't.

"But in the meantime, I can't let that kind of behavior go unchecked. Boys," he calls, eyes still boring into you. "Which one of you wants to help our guest clean up?"

The general din of excitement makes you flinch, eyes going wide as if pleading with the man who holds you so cruelly will do any good. When Johnny suggests they play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honors, it's suddenly, belatedly clear to you that your murder would almost be a kindness. No, the worst thing this man could do for you would be to keep you. John sees it the moment you realize this. His grip eases, eyes softening in some gross perversion of kindness. He strokes your cheek soothingly when Simon goes out in the first round, smiles condescendingly when you flinch at Johnny's crow of victory. John tuts at you, but says no more as he turns you toward the Scot.

"All yours, Soap," he rumbles, pushing you not ungently toward the other man. "Spic and span, you hear?"

"Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir." Johnny's hands are much harsher than John's when he guides you from the trailer, giving you no sympathy when you flinch under the harsh warehouse lighting. You try to take stock of your surroundings as you're pulled along: spare, dusty racking; a forklift in need of repair. There are multiple loading docks, most of the viewports obscured by backed up trucks. One sits vacant and you briefly wonder if there's even more of these monsters waiting in the wings before you're pulled past a dank little office. You catch sight of outdated equipment - a rolodex, a CB - but it's the shadow boxes full of military honors that your eyes lock on the longest.

Of fucking course.

The door Johnny leads you out through is tucked off the side of the building. You stumble when he pulls you down through the door, feet unsteady where they kick up dirt. It's cold outside, colder than it had been in the dankness of the trailer. You can't help but shiver, bite your tongue as best you can when your companion takes that as invitation to draw you in close and rub a big, solid hand up your arm. 

"We'll have ye warmed up in no time, lass," he promises, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. This man murdered your friend with a crowbar and dragged her around like a slaughtered animal. You expect no kindness from him. 

He orders you to strip before turning to a small station built into the side of the warehouse. You do not strip, electing instead to take off running in the opposite direction, cursing as the gravel churns loudly under your shoes. Soap swears, his own heavy boots following at a pace you didn't think his burly body capable of. Your breaths burn your chest, each pull coming labored in your blind panic but you refuse to slow or relent, ignoring the flaming pain in your shoulder every time you swing your arm forward for propulsion.

Well, you ignore it until the ground comes tilting up to meet you, your body crushed beneath the considerable weight of one grunting, cursing Scot. You sob at the pain, or maybe the fear - hard to tell. When he levers himself off you, he wastes no time grabbing your ankle as he stands up, towering over you. If you were capable of stringing two thoughts together, you'd wonder if this was the last thing Ash saw: pale blue eyes gleaming in the low light, the cruelty that twists his face. Instead you wonder how likely your arm is to maintain full mobility after a night like this. 

Not very, you decide, sobbing in pain as he drags you back to the warehouse. He's muttering something above you, but you can't hear him over your own cries. When you kick at him futilely, he yanks on your ankle until you fear for it and you don't try it again. Not even when he gets you where he wants you, back under the wan outdoor lighting of the station he'd turned to before, crouching down next to you to rip at your shoelaces.

"Please, don't," you murmur instead, fear churning in your belly as he continues to strip you. You'd known it would come to this, known the moment the captain had mentioned something about a wife. It doesn't make it easier, doesn't make the prospect of the gritty sand underneath you any more comfortable, or your repulsion for the man above you any less sharp. "Please, please, please let me go. I could -."

"What? Suck me off?" Soap laughs harshly, "Think ah'm gonnae ge' tha' anyway, hen."

You were going to say keep your mouth shut, but you suppose that never works anyway.

The sound you make when he pulls your pants off is wretched, but the shriek he earns when he pulls a knife on you is worse. His laugh is mean, reveling in your fear for a moment before cutting your shirt from you with one deft movement. He's pulling you to your feet before you can really process why and shoving you against the metal siding of the warehouse.

"Stay there," he warns and you're unsure if his tone or the throb in your shoulder is a more effective threat. When he walks back toward the station he'd been after earlier, your gaze turns to follow until you catch sight of your own shoulder at the bottom of your field of view and you draw short, taking in the severe swelling there. You prod at the edges of the mottling, wincing at your own ministrations. 

Absorbed in your own injuries, you don't notice when Soap turns on the spigot, or when he aims the nozzle of the high pressure hose at you. He calls for you to hold your breath, but gives you no more time than that which is necessary to look up, confused, before he's spraying you down.

It's freezing, the flow hard enough to bruise where it jets against the fatty bits of you; feels like it might sheer straight through hide where your skin thins around joints. You gasp, get a mouthful of aerated hose water. Spluttering, you try blocking the stream with your hands despite it feeling like your palms are being struck by a thousand rulers.

"S'wha' we use tae wash the trucks!" Soap calls, cackling loud enough to be heard over the spray that engulfs you. You can't get away from it no matter how much you fold into yourself, catching the jet alternatingly on your hip, your ribs, your ass. It does a better job of indexing your injuries than you did, the blooms of pain where you accidentally turn a bruise toward it letting you know that the hip which took the brunt of the collision is sore, that there's a spot on your good shoulder where Gaz tackled you which smarts. Your knees and elbows are all scuffed up, dirt grinding in before being stripped away. You feel like you're being sandpapered down; buffed until you're gleaming despite knowing how the dirt he kicks up clings to your skin wherever the hose isn't actively being pointed.

Soap keeps it up for another minute or so, only turning it off when your shaking gets so bad you think you're like to fall apart. "Quit yer whinging," he warns, creeping closer as he adjusts the nozzle to another setting. "Jes' havin' a laugh, bonnie, no need tae get all bent outta shape."

You want to tell him you're not laughing, but a small voice in your head says you should be grateful he didn't turn that hose on your face, so you keep quiet to prevent him getting any ideas.

When he's close enough to touch, Soap reaches out and grabs your wrist, spraying your pebbled skin down with a softer shower of water that would set you at ease, if not for how cold it is. From your arm, the stream moves up over your head, mussing your hair beyond recognition before trickling down your battered face. Here, the cold water feels good against heated skin and despite yourself, you heave a sigh of relief, tilting slightly into the unexpected relief. 

"Like tha' hen?" he asks, and you hesitate briefly, wondering how much satisfaction you want to give him. He doesn't give you a chance to decide, ruining your brief moment of reprieve by reaching out and tweaking one hard nipple.

You squawk, swatting at him. Johnny laughs long and loud, letting the stream from the hose fall dead as he watches you fume, shaking.

"Look like one ah them wee doggies, lass," he chuckles, "angry cause ye cannae even bite properly." The bastard flicks your cheek, feigning a sympathetic coo when you flinch away. "Tha's righ', bonnie, nothin' ye can do tae fight back," he murmurs, gliding his fingertips against your cheek in a move he probably thinks is soothing. "Ye jes' remember tha', eh? Might keep you alive."

You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes boring a hole into his shoulder because you can't stand to look him in his terribly cold eyes. When Johnny moves again, his touches are back to the easy, soft caresses from before as he hoses you down. He's surprisingly good at it, despite being armed with only a shammy and a gnarly looking bar of soap. At least he knows to avoid your hair once he realizes he'll need conditioner. That damage is already done, but you appreciate him not dragging his fucking fingers through it on top of everything else. You try taking the soap from him once but he just tuts at you warningly so you go back to shivering, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve body heat and keep yourself marginally modest. You can't decide if he's being obstinately particular just to torment you longer or if he's genuinely just like this until he raises your good arm above your head and finds your armpit overgrown.

He grins, sending you a delightfully scandalized look. "See Ghost chose well. Cap's gonnae love ye," he chuckles, and you feel your panic heighten when you think of the threatening older man again. Soap notices. "No need tae worry, hen. You jes' keep bein' good fer us and Cap'll be good tae ye."

For some reason, you don't trust this man's definition of being treated well.

After getting you all washed up, Johnny marches you back into the warehouse where the other men gather around a small, dingy breakroom table pecking at microwaved burritos. They're laughing uproariously as you arrive, Gaz talking animatedly about a loading mishap back in Arizona. The noise drifts off when they spot you, eying you over like a scrap of meat. There's no covering everything and despite yourself, you're almost grateful when John stands, bringing you a blanket he had folded on the seat beside himself. 

"Feeling better, doll?" he asks, patting you dry with a gentleness you didn't expect from the big man. He frowns at the swelling of your shoulder, eyes darting between you and it with an exaggerated level of concern that makes you want to hurl.

You avoid his gaze, your own flickering around the room as you ignore John, trying to gather your resolve enough to appease him. It's a struggle until your eyes find Simon's, apathetic as always despite the disapproving set of his scarred mouth. 

"Yes, sir," you murmur, watching raptly as Simon disguises a quick nod as a glance at his plate. Your heart rate picks up, an impossible tendril of hope slithering up your aorta when John hums contentedly at your words.

"That's a girl, love," he starts, warm palm falling heavy on your back as he starts to guide you back through the warehouse. "Gaz, bring the soup. You're hungry, right pet?"

You are, but Gaz doesn't wait for confirmation, falling in stride as John guides you toward the quaint office you'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Now, one day, you'll be able to stay up here with us," John promises, gesturing magnanimously across the dingy warehouse as if it contained all the gold of El Dorado within its rickety racking. "But until then, we're going to have to keep you below." 

Gait faltering, you glance up at the older man fearfully but he pays you no mind at all. "Don't worry honey, only temporary. And I'll have the boys visit you daily to keep you nice and stimulated, hm? Gaz," he barks before you can reflect too much on his choice of words. Kyle, evidently knowing exactly what's expected of him, places the soup bowl he's been carrying on the cluttered desk before moving some chairs, rolling the rug back enough to reveal a cutaway door in the cement slab.

You still, every muscle in your body tensing up when John tries to coax you along. "'S'not so bad, sweetheart, I promise. Come look, yeah? Think you'll have a nice little time if you just give it a try."

Like hell you'll give it a try, knees locking up so tight you look like a GI Joe when John guides you first down the stairs. It's cool, the descent marked by the wet gradient of the cement slab as you pass further underground. It's deeper than you'd expect, the dug dirt bottom damp under your feet when you alight on the landing. There's a short hall ahead, braced by rotted-looking timber. A lone door on the opposite end, braced on one side with a long line of bolts and locks. A single light hangs from the short ceiling, low enough you could smack your forehead off of it if you're not careful. 

"Had Simon come down while you were out, get it nice and ready for you," John brags. You doubt the room on the other side of that door could be made live-in ready even if Simon had been given three years to work on it, but you know better than to say as much. 

This time, when John prods you forward, your legs don't obey. "CanIsleepwithyou?" you blurt, a last ditch effort you're not sure you want him to accept.

But John just chuckles. "Eager, eh pet? Don't worry, you'll earn that right soon enough. Now go on, I'm sure you'd like some nice new clothes to put on, hm?"

Damn him, but you do, so you slink forward, ducking under the hanging light as you pass. The door creaks when you pull it open, weight heavy despite how meager it looks. It feels solid, unbreakable, and you notice quickly that you won't be able to barricade it if you have to pull it open. John does not notice your hesitance, following you into the room with a proud little smirk on his mustached face.

"Well, what do you think?" 

Not much. The floor isn't finished, just cold tile pressed into the dirt. The walls and ceilings are, though, and you briefly feel grateful for it until the batting on the door registers and you realize it's for soundproofing purposes. There's a bed in the corner, larger than you need yourself and made up in cutesy sheets with a strawberry motif. A pile of heavy quilts sits folded at the foot and despite yourself, your fingers twitch eagerly at the prospect of sleeping soon, warm and snug under all that weight. 

"We've got some clothes for you here," John continues. You get the feeling he doesn't need a lot of input so you stand there quietly as he opens a foot locker for you, tattered and olive green. Inside sit two neat stacks of clothes, battered looking but approximately the right size. You remember Johnny's comment about the Captain liking your pits and wonder if they always bring him back a certain type.

And if so, where they are.

"G'on love, pick out something you like," John leers, and you realize you won't be able to get away with waiting until he and Kyle leave to get dressed. 

There's a marked efficiency to your movements. Grabbing the first top you see, you briefly check the tag before doing the same with the bottoms at the top of the pile. Close enough for rock and roll, you figure, dropping your blanket to the cold floor and pulling the clothes onto yourself as quickly as possible. Kyle's eyes are heavy, John's heavier. Your skin crawls, the goosebumps which never really went away after your little bath returning with a vengeance. To your immense displeasure, John has to help you pull your bad arm through the sleeve and he tuts sympathetically when you whine.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll bring you down some button ups tomorrow, yeah? You nod when he pauses too long, realizing you're not going to be let off the hook without a proper answer. You creep toward the bed when he hums in acknowledgement, but he tuts in warning again, nodding toward a little desk shoved off to the side of the room. You sit obediently, thanking him with a little murmur when he ferries the bowl of soup from Gaz to you. He hovers, watching raptly until you bring a spoonful of the room temperature meal to your mouth. 

"Good, right?" he asks, before you can even get a proper taste of it. 

You take your time swallowing, playing up the pain in your cheek as you try to suss out a good response. It's just microwaved soup as far as you can tell, but you figure saying as much won't garner you any favors. Instead, you hum appreciatively and shovel in another bite before John can ask you any more questions.

It works, mostly. John takes a quick lap around the room instead of standing over you, sighing now and again at whatever he finds while Gaz continues to stand in the doorway, evidently unamused. 

"It needs work, I'll give you that," John eventually concedes as you slurp at your meal. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until that sweet sweet MSG hit your tongue. "It needs work, but if you're good, we can spend some time down here fixing it up for you. Would you like that?"

You stall, spooning through some of the chunkier bits at the bottom of your bowl. It was kind of them to give you soup, you registered belatedly. Solid foods would have undoubtedly fucked up your mouth. Instead of answering, you ask John what would happen if you were to be bad and watch as his genial nature flips like a switch.

"Got a couple of news articles upstairs if you'd like to read 'em and find out."

Next>>

[lesbomaticlove]

watched deadpool and wolverine and it inevitably had me thinking about these two idiots.

(inspo from this piece by thomas horndof)

spoilers for said movie below the cut among my au musings

Sanji as Deadpool -

I thought, rather than having cancer and going through 'experimental treatments', Sanji would have been made a mutant along with his brothers, basically just the way they are in canon. Sora would have tried to stop it, because she knew Judge's goal was to make weapons out of these children, and was successful only with Sanji - but since he still retained the mutant genes, Judge spent the entirety of Sanji's childhood trying to awaken them to get him on par with the others. They are mercenaries, and of course the most effective mercenary is one that won't die.

These enhancements take a really long time to actually awaken, though. As much pain as Sanji endured, he hadn't gotten close enough to death for it to save him.

He was nineteen and locked in the basement when the fire started. Nobody else was home, so nobody else got hurt, but he wasn't able to escape easily. He ended up with burns on 90% of his body, presumed dead by his family, but his healing factor kicked in just in time to save him.

He took up mercenary work, as it was all he knew and all he felt he could contribute, but was still determined to regain his humanity through it.

Over the years he got close to a small group of people.

Zeff, the grumpy old geezer that inevitably taught him to cook, and never judged him for his mutant genetics or scars. Also happened to be an ex-mercenary and kept connections to help with his work.

Franky, Robin, Luffy, and Ace- mutant friends, the primary x-men in his timeline.

Nami and Vivi, two of his favorite people in the world.

Usopp, his best friend and the regular ass guy thats been there for him every step of the way (yes he is the peter)

After a bit of a quarter life crisis, these nine people closest to him are at risk of being taken away from him forever, and it's his fault. He's determined to fix it on his own.

.

Zoro as Wolverine -

With little to no memories of his childhood or early life, the x-men are all Zoro has.

Until he doesn't. Until his adamant independence led to all of them getting killed.

Johnny. Yosaku. It was the discovery of Kuina's body that really sent him over the edge, a spiral that lasted years before Deadpool dragged him into his timeline. A timeline where Wolverine was dead, and the fabric of space and time threatened to fall apart.

[cherubfae]

𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 || {𝔞𝔨𝔞𝔱𝔰𝔲𝔨𝔦}

They're now realizing what a mistake it was to introduce you to the group, now they have competition with their own teammate.

tags: former ninja!reader, gn! civilian reader, established relationships, threats, violence, protective!akatsuki, slightly suggestive in Sasori's || MINORS DONT INTERACT

Pain

He knows that Konan is harmless and she's not the sort of disrespectful person to go sniffing about where she doesn't belong, especially where he and his partner are concerned. Pain, however, cannot tolerate the lingering touches Konan gives you as she passes by. Her hand brushing yours, guiding you with an arm around your shoulders, and blushing at you. He feels a warning is warranted.

"You are my dear friend, Konan, I have known you many years, but this simply won't do. You are better than how you are acting. Be respectful and leave them alone, and I won't need to inflict pain upon you."

Konan

Oh, well isn't this troublesome. Konan isn't the type to make idle threats, but Pain is her commander and leader. That would not be a wise decision on her part, but she does trust her long-time friend to be somewhat respectful and not place you in any situation where you would be uncomfortable. She's not above putting her foot down if she really must.

"Sir, with all due respect, my partner isn't interested and we would both appreciate you to mind your manners."

Obito

You are his everything. He would destroy the entire world for you. Level mountains, tame seas, there isn't anything he wouldn't do as long as it's within his power. He's pretty surprised that Zetsu even took a liking to you, as he's not one that's expressed interest in most anything other than his eating habits.

"Surely Zetsu is mistaken. My partner isn't a corpse for you to munch on you, nor are they yours for the taking. Keep your distance and I won't have to bloody you up too much."

Zetsu

As with anything, both sides of him are at a near constant quarrel with each other. His light side trying to reassure his darker side that Tobi is harmless and doesn't mean anything malicious by taking interest in you.

"Tobi is a good boy, he means no harm." "His harm is his unwarranted interest in our beloved partner. Fool! You have no sense, do you?"

Hidan

Honestly he could laugh so hard he may undo the stitches in his neck. That old fucker wants his partner?? Is he actually serious?

"Haha! That's fucking rich! You've gotta be at least one-hundred by now, huh? Fuck off, geezer! They're not yours!"

Kakuzu

Clearly decapitating Hidan over and over doesn't make him talk any less. Neither does stabbing him-- but it sure does take the edge off. Kakuzu would rather not deal with the younger man's insufferable stubbornness. You are his lover, his alone, and Hidan had no chance in whatever the fuck kind of afterlife his mighty lord Jashin provides. None. Fuck off, Hidan.

"As if they'd want someone as lowly as you. You don't even pay for your own shit. Remember your place or I won't hesitate to remove you from this world permanently. One swipe and your head will be freed from your miserable shoulders. I'm sure all sorts of insects would love to burrow inside of that hollow space."

Itachi

For a moment he's reminded of Sasuke's little schoolboy crush on you, except Kisame isn't Sasuke. He is a grown adult capable of getting in the way of Itachi's livelihood. Threatening the sanctity of his relationship. He's unlikely to do much other than step in if he crosses any boundaries or makes you uncomfortable. So until something is said, it's just this weird, heavy atmosphere. Kisame starts to speak but Itachi cuts him off immediately.

"Keep their name out of your mouth, Kisame. I won't warn you again."

Kisame

Oftentimes he wonders how lonely Itachi is. He annihilated his entire clan save for his younger brother in a single night. He took away everything he loved and for what? He can appreciate Itachi's past but Kisame doesn't take too kindly to the eldest Uchiha brother being a bit too welcoming and protective of his partner.

"Itachi, a word of advice. Don't shit where you eat. And keep your nose out of other's relationships. You're a good, respectable man and I appreciate your concern in my partner's well-being. Let me handle it from here."

Sasori

There's still the age-old artistic view difference between the two: eternal art vs shortlived art. One could argue both have their merits, but even after all these years it was a sore subject between the blonde and redhead duo. And now you were thrown into the mix.

"If you truly think you're so superior to me, Deidara, then perhaps you'd be more open to what a waste your art truly is. My partner prefers eternal, long-lasting, but there's nothing long nor lasting about, is there?"

Deidara

This was great. Jusssst great. Sasori had been hanging around his area of the hideout more and for what, Deidara wasn't sure. Until he recalled that you had been given special permission to visit from Pain himself. You'd forsaken your village long ago and clearly had no interest in reporting them, so it was allowed. Sasori had begun skulking about ever since and the blonde could guess why he might be drawn to you.

"If you even think about turning my partner into a fuckin' puppet, I won't hesitate to kill you, Sasori. No matter which way I go about it, you'll end up in splinters. So, I repeat. Stay the fuck away from them, hmm."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡ��ʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[fridaynightmassacre]

Alright I’ll bite

Would you be willing to write something about Simon with a mommy kink I feel like he’d end up saying it on accident in the middle of having sex or something and die of embarrassment immediately afterwards💀

anon I love you so much. mommy kink havers rise up

I've decided to do this as hcs as well and if u want a fic then I'll write it out for you!♡

I definitely feel like it would be like when you're riding him. idk it'd take a drastic scenario to open simon up to pegging so riding it is

he's crying and you stop mid. thrust? and you're like "woah hey simon you alright?"

and he whines out "please don't stop mommy"

you're into it.

you immediately start up again fucking like three times as hard you are milking this man

but it hits him what he said

mexican alien corpse.png

he's like grabbing at your hips trying to get you to stop and being like "I didn't mean that!"

you cut it out because you know he's literally trying to get you to stop

and you're just staring at each other. dick still in you

"I'm fine with it you know, If you wanna call me mommy you can. I think it's kinda hot"

simon dies

NO JE DOESNT IM SORRUDBEIE

he kind of just looks to the side, face bright red and mumbles "please keep going"

but you ain't letting shit slide

you stare at him with an eyebrow raise letting him know what you need to get it going again

tears in his EYES he redoes it "please keep going...mommy" so you do what he asks

definitely you abuse the words "good boy" after that

occasionally throwing in "mommy's good boy" to make him like implode

mommy kink simon also has an orgasm control kink

"pl- please! please let me cum mommy-!"

literally won't cum unless you explicitly say he can like you can't even nod you HAVE to say he can cum

afterwards he's gonna need heavy after-care but also, some time alone since it was genuinely embarrassing and borderline humiliating for him

he wouldn't get into the mommy stuff every time you fuck

atleast not for a while, you'd have to give him space to get used to it

but he also doesn't mind when you go mommy mode non sexually. take care of this old geezer

[intermundia]

im obsessed with the cover of this magazine i found from 1999 which i think looks like the jedi order had some kind of a space tiger beat equivalent full of hot gossip about notable jedi lol

there are a couple good quotes in the article, like here's ewan about the jedi on screen:

"They frown a bit, and they're good fighters. They stand for everything that's good. Nobody frowns better than Liam and l in this movie because we have the Jedi frown. We're just kind of cool geezers."

i genuinely believe that the decision to have the jedi frown was enough to tank their reputation with a large number of fans who found that off-putting and cold. if the jedi had smiled more, i guarantee that the number of fans who say that they were responsible for their own fall would be much smaller.

like think about it!! literally just bc mace windu frowned at anakin in the phantom menace, people malign his character so much. they read it as anger or disdain, but he was just frowning bc the jedi frown. they are serious people!! yoda said it in episode 5: "a jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind."

there is a lot that can be unpacked about frowning, the american norms of smiling and facial performance of emotions, and the discomfort people feel when those norms are violated. as someone with flat affect, i FEEL THAT. i love that the jedi are serious and focused. they're space wizard monks, yk?

the other good quote is about how ewan intentionally tried to match alec guinness's voice:

"in the scene in his house where he shows Luke his laser sword for the first time, he's got such a specific voice — the Obi-Wan voice we know... kind of a fatherly voice."

ewan attempting to sound fatherly did things to those of us who are.. sensitive to such things 😅 it's like catnip for my brain personally lol

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

The more things change, the more they stay the same. For instance, The Ninth Inspector premiere ‘Lily’, in which a wheelie bin that swallowed Minnie farted.

Seems Rachelle D. Tavies hasn’t moved past the toilet-humour stage yet.

[inthefallofasparrow]

CORRESPONDENCE 1031 – THIRD QUADRANT 6 > NEVADA CENTRAL DISPATCH ~092338 RE: ASSESSMENT REPORT - Officer Yuki de Witt

OFFICER’S NOTES: 3Q6 is one of the more efficient quadrants within the Mining Division. All of Sectors 5 through 9 have consistently run at full or double quota for the last season. CIRCUMSTANTIAL: Successful liaison with 3Q6 Board of Captains (Cpt. SPIEGEL, absent) regarding the sudden death of Unit 23 Cpt. SILTSMEAR from 4Q6. Decision pending. Further info required. INCIDENT REPORT: n/a WORKER MORALE: Moderate

~RESPONSE: Received (211)

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 081/- Hey. I know you’ll never read this, but I guess I don’t need you to. Was only supposed to stay a few days, write up my assessment for Dispatch and then leave, but then one of the captains in a neighboring quadrant fucking died. Nothing nefarious mind you, just dust pneumonia. Certainly, more paperwork than it was worth. Sounds like a lot of weird shit’s been going on over there, so one of the captains went over to assist with the transitional period, and I agreed to stay here at Third Q6 to cover until he could be replaced. That was over a month ago now, and I miss the fucking sun! Never thought I’d say that. Had a few reservations about being stuck underground this long as the only woman for miles in any direction, but so far, apart from the odd leer in the mess hall, I have remained “unharassed”. The worst of it would be one particularly cantankerous geezer called Ira Trask, Foreman of 9C, who insisted on addressing me by my first name until I referred him to the NCD handbook on worksite professionalism, and he relented. I assumed he just wanted to be friendly so I'd help get him promoted, but now I think it was something deeper, more sad and nostalgic. There’s a lock on my door at least, and being exceptionally tall seems to give them second thoughts. But as you’d imagine, height’s not generally an advantage in tight, enclosed spaces with low ceilings. Most shovelmen develop a stooped physique during their time in the corps. Fucked if I’m gonna stay that long.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 94/- Decided if I have to be stuck down here in Satan’s ass crack, twiddling my thumbs, I might as well spend the time processing some individual Worker Profiles. The shovelmen generally alternate between reticent, awkward, sullen or befuddled by the concept of being personally assessed, but if me doing their interview gets them a few minutes to slack off their shifts, they’re happy enough for the distraction. Foreman Trask is displeased by the interruption, but he is welcome to sit on it.

Names seem to be taboo here. I know all the workers’ names of course, because it’s on their file, but that really freaks them out and there’s no point in using them. Share anything of your backstory with your fellow shovelmen, anything that they can tie back to you, and that’s a power they now hold over you. It's like some kind of deep occult shit, but for fucking miners. Everyone gets a new name here, bestowed upon you by your peers. And you only get that so you can tell whose shovel you’re holding.

Met a greenie from Unit 9A named Theodore today. The others call him ‘Mouse’ which he seems to prefer. Whether it’s for his demeanor, his silky brown hair, or, I don’t know, maybe he just likes cheese, he won’t answer to anything else despite having only been here two months. I asked him and a few others what they knew about the late Captain from 4Q6. Common sentiment seems to be that he was mad as a balloon.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 113/- Had a dream about the swing mom never built us. The big tire swing that wasn’t in the apple orchard. I know you don’t remember it, because, well, it never existed, but I feel like I’ve mentioned it before. Anyway, in the dream, I was swinging in the orchard at night time. And the sky was so pitch black, because there weren’t any stars at all. Just a void. Like, the dream was set after the sun had just died, and there was nothing left. Or maybe it wasn’t night. Maybe the orchard was inside a cave. It doesn’t matter. So, the swing was just a regular car tire, but then as I swung higher, I looked down and it was suddenly bigger. Stretching out to the size of a tractor tire. Or something off a monster truck. Then, I swung higher, and the tire grew again, too big for any actual vehicle, and now I could easily fit inside the trough of the tire itself and lie in it like a big hammock. But I couldn’t do that, because the trough was full of apples. Hundreds of these squishy brown apples in various states of decay. And the apples were growing too. Larger and larger, bustling and toppling over each other until they were the size of bowling balls, and then beach balls, and I was sort of half-drowning, half-swimming in these apples. And then I realized. They weren’t growing. I was shrinking. So, I climbed inside of an apple where the pip should be, because I knew deep down that was the logical place to go to die, and then I woke up. I’m pretty sure I know what it means, even if you don’t.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 115/- Random insights gleaned from Unit 9 Review a.k.a. ‘Operation: Peanut Gallery’:

Shovelman ‘Wiles’ - Appears to be the closest thing Sector 9 has to a medic. At least, he says he knows how to saw a man’s leg off without killing him, which is good enough here apparently. I didn’t ask for specifics. There is a constant film of dust covering his glasses, which he seems unaware of.

Shovelman ‘Twoshort’- Tried to convince me it’s common practice for the men to eat handfuls of dirt as a snack, given it’s more nutritious than whatever they were being served in the mess hall. I offered to immediately lodge a formal complaint with Captain Spiegel and the Food Prep team on his behalf, and he backpedaled comically fast, and then tripped on his way out because his foot was asleep.

Shovelman ‘Basher’ – Built like a shuttle truck and functionally deaf after an incident with a stick of dynamite last year. Uses a form of abridged sign language that he and a few others in his unit invented specifically for him. Extremely introverted at first until Wiles came to interpret for me, then he wouldn't shut up.

Shovelman ‘Blessed’ - Recently discovered an injured bat, which he has taken it upon himself to nurse back to health against NCD regulation 58N. He also appears to be deathly allergic to said bat, as his face and hands had swollen incredibly within minutes of handling the thing. A persistent sneezing has overtaken him, but apparently that’s normal and unrelated to the bat. Also allergic to dirt?

Regardless, get me the fuck out of here. Yuk

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny - Part II

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

This can be read as a stand alone but find part I here!

Masterlist

Summary: A routine check at your bar goes sour. It may not be his fault, but you can certainly take out all of your frustrations on your boyfriend.

Word Count: 6.1k

18+ Minors DNI!

Warnings: Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Reader is physically assaulted at the beginning (not by Gator). Slight mommy kink. Switch Gator. Switch Reader. Light choking. Bondage. Oral (m & f receiving - face riding). Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Orgasm denial (m). Breeding kink. Creampie.

It was a quiet Thursday night at the Lucky Lizard Bar and Grille, more bar than it's ever been a grill. You have your regulars that have been coming here to escape for years after a hard day's work needing to blow off a little steam before heading to their respective homes.

Much like any other weeknight, about ten patrons sit at the bar and various tables in the dimly lit building.

Neons in mostly red and blue decorated the walls, reflecting those colors back onto the faces you served. The jukebox in the corner pulling up another old country song these geezers loved to hear.

Henry was behind the bar, as usual, while you waited on the tables.

It was more lively on the weekends when people your age tend to come out for karaoke when there was nothing else to do in this town on a Saturday night. That’s when the real tips came in and why you suffered these boring weekdays.

You were over in the corner to yourself counting tonight's tips totaling a whopping forty-two bucks.

Looking up only when you heard the familiar, grating voice of Sheriff Roy Tillman booming over the speakers, as two other deputies followed in behind him.

Henry was quick to turn the music off.

“Alright everyone, IDs out. Just a friendly, routine check.” He smirked, as he caught your eye.

Smug fucking bastard.

Henry spoke up, “What’s this about Sheriff?”

Everyone knows damn good and well that he never came to this part of town, let alone caught dead in this bar for a so-called 'friendly’ check or otherwise.

“Like I said Henry, just a routine check.” He motioned to the other two and they moved to start checking everyone.

You were glued to your spot, unsure of what to do. You were busy keeping your eye on Roy you hadn’t noticed Deputy Shelton walk up slowly beside you.

“ID,” he huffed out, as you turned to look up at him. He licked his lips as his beady eyes followed your curves down and slowly back up.

“I work here dipshit; I don’t have my ID on me.” You didn’t think before the words left your mouth.

“Sounds like we’ve got a problem here then.” He clicked his tongue. “See, Sheriff there got a tip this place is serving minors and we’ve got to make sure everyone’s of age. That includes you.” He stepped closer, crowding your space; the stench of his mentholated dip stuck between his lip hitting you as he spoke.

“Seein’ that I’ve never stepped foot in this shit hole before, you just look like some common bar whore t’me.”

He edged more into your space, making you take a step back further into the dimly lit corner. Further away from where others could see you.

“Ask Henry. He’ll vouch for me. Hell ask...,” you were cut off, squeaking with surprise as he grabbed your upper arm, getting right in your face.

“You back talkin’ me? No ID, and now you’re disrespecting an officer of the law? How stupid are you? I could arrest you right now and haul your ass to the station.”

“No, sir.” You timidly spoke, gritting your teeth trying to maintain some level of composure instead of ripping his head off.

He once again moved closer into your space, his hips pushing into yours. You had nowhere else to go, back hitting the rough wall.

“We can always remedy this situation, after hours, if you know what I mean.” His lips curled back into a nasty smile. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. “What do you say, baby? Out back, in the alley would do just fine. I’m sure you’re used to’ that.”

His lewd insinuation made your stomach lurch.

Before you could respond Roy spoke up behind him.

“Shelton, problem back here?” For once grateful to see him.

“Naw Sheriff, just this bitch tryin’ to say she doesn’t have an ID.” He turned to face the other man, a smug look plastered to his own face, no doubt happy with his work, grip still tight on your arm, surely to leave bruises, as he pulled you around with him.

You knew most of the deputies in town were aware that you and Gator were together. Shelton was one of the hardcore jerks stuck so far up Roy’s ass that he didn’t care to pay much attention to anything else. Maybe he didn’t recognize you, or maybe he was just trying to gain favor with Roy.

“Ah, Y/N. Pleasant surprise.” He nodded, tipping his hat toward you.

The grip on your arm loosened just a bit as Shelton looked back down at you, eyes widening at the realization.

“Y/N? Gator’s Y/N?”

“The one and only.” You spoke up, looking straight back at him, while wrenching yourself from his now weak hold.

You straighten your posture, gaze shifting between both men.

“We’re almost done here Y/N. You can get back to work serving these fine men of Stark County.”

“Sure, Sheriff.” You put your head down as you walk behind the bar to the storage area where you kept your things while on shift.

It felt like the eyes of the entire bar were trailing you. You were sure if you looked up, they would be.

Henry gave you a pitying frown as you passed him, before he gently touched your arm, halting your path.

“Hey, you can go for the night. I think most everyone will clear out after this. No one wants to be hanging around knowing the Sheriff could be watching for drunk drivers.”

You just nod and continue to the back.

You grabbed your phone from your purse, typing out a quick but effective text.

WHERE ARE YOU???

It only took a few seconds to see those three dots appear. Then disappear. Then reappear once more.

Outside. Back lot.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, hoping to God that he had somehow just gotten here and hadn’t been out there the whole damn time but in the back of your mind you already knew that answer.

Putting the phone away, grabbing your purse, and throwing your jacket over your shoulders you head straight for the back door avoiding going through the front walking past Roy and his goons. You could still hear them talking with Henry as you made your exit.

The chill of the night air bit at your bare legs sending a shiver up your spine. His truck was situated in his usual parking spot whenever he would pick you up from a late-night shift. You slammed the door behind you.

Feeling like your blood was boiling, you stalked over to where he sat behind the wheel. Seeing the end of his vape light up before you could actually see him, with the putrid fruity scented cloud drifting from the window.

“Bunny,” he began as you got closer to the window, but you cut him off.

“Are you fucking kidding me Gator? Please tell me you weren’t out here this entire fucking time?”

He looked down, his silence giving you the answer as you slowly nodded, lips pursed. You could feel the fresh sting of tears welling up behind your eyes as you looked away from him.

“I’m sorry. My hands were tied.”

Taking a step back, you really appraised him. This man who was fiercely in love with you but also took a back seat when it came to his old man.

You nod, “Yeah, I get it.”

You had made up your mind.

“Fuck you, Gator Tillman.” Flipping him off as you turned away, stomping toward the main road.

“Bunny! Baby, don't be like that!” He watches you walk away, knowing you were in no mood to listen to reason.

He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, “Fuck.”

He let out a deep breath while putting the truck into drive to chase you down.

You had accepted the letdown. Per usual, just another man not living up to your expectations. Words mean absolutely nothing without some action behind them.

Using your phone's flashlight to navigate the desolate road back to your house, it was going to be a long walk.

The headlights cut through behind you, casting your shadow well beyond your line of vision into the night.

The engine roared up beside you, as he slowed the truck to your pace but you kept a steady path forward, not giving him the satisfaction of looking over.

“Bun, come on. We both know you're not gonna walk all the way home. It's cold. Get in the truck.”

You ignore him, head held high, arms tucked around yourself shielding you from the cool weather as you continue a few more paces.

“Seriously? Just gonna ignore me? That's how it's gonna be? Fine. Walk home, stubborn ass. See if I give a shit.”

You scoff, knowing he'll stay here all night if it meant you'd make it home safe and sound. Bad boy but secret softie for you.

He was growing more impatient by the second.

“Baby, C’mon. I'll make it up t'you.” He pleaded.

You stopped. He perked up, hopeful but deflated when he saw your face once you turned toward him. Tear stained, reddened and flustered.

“Make it up to me? That shouldn't have happened in the first place! If I wasn't involved with you, Roy wouldn't even bother coming by that damn place!” You yelled out, now beyond frustrated.

He let out an over exaggerated huff as his foot slammed on the brake.

“Goddamnit Bunny! Get in the fuckin' truck. You're not walkin’ home in the dark. Take this as my last warning before I drag your ass in here.” He leveled his gaze. You knew he'd do it, as you had learned the hard way on more than one occasion.

“Fine.” You sighed, not feeling up to struggling any more than you had to, stepping over and opening the door. You hopped in and slammed it. The noise made him grit his teeth and shut his eyes, but he held his tongue.

You curled into yourself and crossed your arms. Ignoring his pointed look, opting to stare out the window instead.

The rest of the drive was filled with the hum of the engine and radio softly playing. He hadn’t bothered trying to converse with you. You’d talk when you were ready. He knew when he could push and this wasn’t one of those times, though he didn’t understand why you were so mad.

Roy had told him it was just an ID check, nothing out of the ordinary and he should just “sit this one, it's a conflict of interest.” Gator did as he was told knowing you’d be a little ticked but hadn’t expected this much bratty behavior.

He pulled up to your small house. Rarely ever staying at Roy’s anymore, instead calling home wherever you may be.

You didn’t wait for him to fully put the truck in park before jumping out, slamming the door once again.

He simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath to control his temper. It was going to be a long night.

You walked through the door and shrugged off your jacket, slinging it onto the couch. The leather suddenly felt suffocating when you made it into the house.

Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge grabbing a fresh beer; cracking it open and chugging back about half as you heard his heavy footfalls behind you.

Gator wasn’t stupid. Something was wrong. You rarely drank, given your job most days it was revolting to you.

He unzipped his vest, removing it before setting it on the back of the kitchen chair. Then removed his hat, running a hand through his hair that was now falling at the sides.

“Bunny, you goin’ to keep bein’ a bitch and ignore me all night or are you gonna tell me what the hell happened back there?”

You were mid-swig when the words left his mouth. You slowly lowered the bottle from your lips and set it on the counter beside you, composure starting to fail.

Turning on your heel, you lunged at him. Pushing him as hard as you could, but it only moved him enough to send him back a few inches.

“Fuck you, Gator!” You yelled; eyes full of rage but it only spurred him more.

He smirked, a crooked smile across his lips that only infuriated you more as he straightened back up to his full height.

“Fuck, I love when you get like this.” His voice now turning sultry, hand reaching for your left wrist still situated on his chest.

You blinked as your mind caught up with the insinuation. You reared your free hand back to slap him, but he easily caught it mid-air.

“That’s it, need to take it out on me? Need to use me?” He whispered lower. Eyes trailing down, catching your already heaving chest. Your body now betraying you.

“Huh Bun? That…” Stopping mid-sentence, his gaze softened as he dropped his grasp from your wrist, instead lifting his hand back up to your arm as his fingers traced newly forming bruises.

“Who the fuck touched you?” He didn’t look at you directly, still examining the finger shaped splotches of light purple.

Your gaze followed his, examining them yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before looking back up at him.

“I… It was Shelton. He…”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” His jaw tightened. You could see the tendons in his neck strain as he released a harsh breath. The gears in his head were already turning.

“Gator,” you spoke softly. “Baby, please. Don't do anything rash. I need you here with me right now.”

Reaching up to cup his face, making him look you in the eye.

You leaned up nuzzling your nose into his jaw, your mouth hot on his skin. The slightest stubble forming from the long day, scratching along your cheek.

Your lips working their way up, legs straining as you stood on the tips of your toes, reaching the shell of his ear, “Make me forget,” you whispered.

Your hand slowly slid down his chest, past his belt buckle. You took his already hardening length in your hand, giving him a teasing squeeze as he responds with a breathy moan, kicking up under your touch.

“Make me forget his hands were ever on me.” You kissed him lightly, letting your words sink in.

“Anything you want Bunny. I'm all yours.”

You pull back slightly, searching his face as he tilts his head looking down at you. His usual warm caramel swirls now turned into black pools blown full.

“Get your ass in the bedroom. Now, mama.”

Smacking your ass when you don't move fast enough, groping your cheek with his large hand pulling you further into him.

His turn to whisper in your ear. “Get those cuffs ready.”

He released his grip as you moved away from him, a smirk adorning your face knowing what was to come. Another sharp smack as he followed closely behind you.

As soon as you cross the threshold, to your shared room, he wastes no time.

Pressing his chest to your back, hands trailing your curves. One of his large palms comes to rest on your hip, the other wrapping around your throat as he pulls you back, halting your breath.

His prominent bulge pressing into the fat of your ass has you pressing your hips further into him as he groans.

His lips ghost the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Tell me what you want Bunny. Tell me what you need.” Tightening his grip before releasing it. He wanted you to answer him.

Most of the time he took what he needed; you were pliant to him. On those rare occasions, you could make him speechless with the way you dominated him. It was always a push and pull. He didn't mind letting you take the reins.

“I need you to take off that stupid fuckin' uniform and lay on the bed.”

“Mmmmm… that's it baby. Good girl.” He placed a small kiss to your temple before releasing the hold on you and pulling away from you altogether. The cool air hitting your back where his warmth had just been.

You turned to watch him as he unlatched his thigh holster, laying it on top of the dresser.

You took a seat at the foot of the bed, crossing your legs waiting patiently for his little show.

He smirked, eyes trailing your legs, he was trying to contain himself. He knew this was about you. For you.

He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his fly. Pulling his shirt free before pulling it up over his head. His broad chest now on display for you, had your thighs pushing further together. It didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't say anything.

He unlaced and kicked his boots to the side, finally letting his pants slide from his waist.

The bulge in his boxers had you salivating. He palmed himself, slowly tracing his thick outline.

“Like what you see?” He licked his lips, hooking the band of his boxers but you stopped him before he shed them.

“Stop. Leave ‘em. Come here.” You pat the empty spot beside you.

He raised his brow but obeyed. He strode over and sat with a bounce, as you got up. Your turn to give him a show. Knowing he was already rock hard; he'd be eating out of the palm of your hand.

You stood a foot from him, almost between his thighs but not quite.

Your fingertips traced your own curves, reaching the hem of your shirt and slowly lifting it to reveal the red lacy bra that always drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” he sucked in a harsh breath. “Do you know what you do to me?”

He tried to grip your hips, but you batted his hands away.

“Nuh uh. You can look. Don't touch.”

He nodded and leant back, attempting to rub himself once more but you grabbed his wrist.

“No, you can't touch yourself either. Be a good boy for me.” You whispered, hand resting on his cheek. “Go ahead and lay back.”

He propped himself back against a couple of pillows, lacing his fingers behind his head, eyes never leaving you as you shimmed your skirt down your hips.

He whistles low, “look at my pretty girl. C’mere baby.” He says as he nods toward his lap. His cock now straining and tented in his boxers.

You saunter over, crawling up the bed slowly toward him.

You lifted yourself so you could straddle his waist, but not dropping your hips, so you were hovering over where he wanted your weight the most.

You move forward, pressing your still covered chest into his. Nose nudging slightly against his before your lips collide.

He brings his hands to your hips with a bruising grip, pushing you down on his cock while his hips shift to meet yours. Grinding, so desperately trying to find the friction you both wanted.

You moan into his mouth at the feeling, his length hitting your clit just right.

“That's it, sweet thing. Let me hear all those pretty noises.”

You lifted up slightly, tracing his jaw with your finger as you spoke.

“Here's what's going to happen tonight. I'm going to ride this handsome face, but” you tightened your hand as much around his throat as it would allow. “If you even think about touching yourself or cumming, I will cuff you and leave you aching and begging all night.”

“Fuck, Bunny. I'll do anything for my girl.” He said as his eyes linger on your lips.

“I'm going to put that mouth to good use.”

He quickly shifted you from his lap, nearly shoving you off the bed in the process. You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped from his show of eagerness.

He scooted down, into the bed allowing himself to be more flat against the pillow.

“C’mon baby, don't leave me waiting. Use me. Use my face. You know you want to.”

You slowly hooked the lace between your fingers and slid them down your thighs as he watched you intently, licking his lips. You flicked them toward him with a giggle. He easily caught them, laying them on the nightstand.

You crawl back over to him and straddle his chest as he pulls you closer, hands digging into the fat of your ass. You grip the headboard to keep from falling forward.

“Don't take it easy either baby, set that pretty ass down and ride my fuckin’ face.”

You nod and lift yourself; he groans once your bare, glistening pussy is on full display in front of him.

“Fuck Bunny, she's dripping already.” Your lips slightly parted, putting you more on display, as you pushed your hips further toward him. “Fuck, look at her.”

You get no warning before he wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls you down atop his waiting mouth.

He licks a fat stripe from your sopping heat up to your clit. Finding your engorged nub easily, swirling his tongue. Your back arched into the feeling, grinding your hips down as you gripped the headboard tighter.

“Fuck, Gator.” You moaned out. You caught his eyes in between your thighs as he continued.

He was eating you like a man starved. Loving the taste of you on his tongue he could easily cum just from the taste and sight of you coming undone.

Laving his tongue between your entrance to your clit and back down. Savoring everything you'd give him.

It wasn't long before you felt that coil start to tighten. He was watching your face as best he could nestled between your thighs, as you began to scrunch your brows giving in to pleasure.

He took your clit in between his lips and sucked harshly, moaning around you from the way your body reacted to him.

“Baby, fuck!” You cried out, “Just like that.”

He didn't let up, tongue swirling, teeth scraping before sucking you in once more between his lips. You let go while screaming his name, blinded momentarily by the fireworks you swore were behind your eyes.

He sucked gently a few more times, before letting you grind your hips onto him as you came down from your high.

His grip loosened as you slid further down, sitting on his chest, as he started to sit himself back up. He donned a shit eating grin, your fluids slick on his mouth and chin.

You leaned over and fell into the mattress beside him, still trying to catch your breath. Chest heaving from the excursion.

Not giving you much of a reprieve, he started assaulting your neck with his mouth.

Trailing sticky kisses down, his saliva mixed with your juices, tracing your collar, sucking, then quickly soothing it with his tongue. Sure to leave fresh marks in their wake.

Slowly he moved lower, between your cleavage.

He suddenly pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple into his mouth switching between sucking and biting.

You whined at the feeling, as your pussy began to once more throb with an ever-growing need.

His hand traced your stomach, just when you thought he was going to delve between your thighs, he removed his hand entirely.

You chanced a glance down, as he pulled his boxers out of the way and wrapped his hand around his cock. His perfect tip now red and angry, leaking a pearly bead from his slit that he gathered before easing his hand back down.

“Gator,” you say with a breathy exhale.

“Hmmmm?” He hummed without looking up, continuing his current ministrations to himself, while leaving hickies across your chest.

“What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself?” Your voice raspy.

He stopped, caught like a deer in headlights, he looked up at you with eyes nearly black. He knew what that tone meant.

“I'm sorry, Bun.” He grins.

“No, but you will be. Lay back and put your hands up, pretty boy.”

You had been waiting for the slip up. The moment he'd fuck up. He always did.

You stood, so he could make himself more comfortable, scooting back up into the bed, his head hitting the pillows as he raised both hands above his head.

“Gator, baby,” you slid the cool steel around one wrist and tightened it into place. “I think you enjoy this a little too much.”

He laughed out, as you clicked the other into place.

If anyone ever happened upon the set of cuffs left around the bed frame, they'd just assume he used them on you. He did some nights but they were mostly used on him. He got handsy, and sometimes you needed to teach him a lesson.

Once you were done, you started to ease your way down to his boxers. Fingers tiptoeing down his chest, his stomach until you reached the hem.

“This what you want, baby?” You teased.

He nodded, face flushed red, as he bit his bottom lip before finally answering, “Yeah. P… please.”

You eased the offending garment from his hips as he aided you by lifting and letting you guide them the rest of the way down his thighs before throwing them to the side.

His cock was sitting pretty, leaned against his abdomen.

His size never ceased to amaze you; thick, and long. Prominent veins running the length. He was perfect.

You eased back up toward him. Hands splayed on his thighs. Watching his cock flex from being so close to where he needed you.

Still wearing your bra, you finally removed it, as he let out a groan.

“Prettiest tits. How'd I get so lucky?” He hummed, mostly to himself.

You spread his thighs apart, seating yourself between them. He bucked slightly, as you heard the metal restraints hit the headboard. You eyed him playfully, but his eyes were already closed, fists clenched.

You lowered your mouth, as your tongue made contact with his shaft, he moaned out a pathetic whine, running it from base to tip. He threw his head back further into the pillows.

“This it baby? This what you need?”

“Mmmmhmmm.” He nodded, still not meeting your gaze. He was trying to stave off his release. This was about you right now.

Your mouth trailed kisses back down his length. Breathing in his heady, musky scent when you reached his balls.

You took one into your mouth, sucking lightly as your other hand teasingly kneaded the other.

“Oh fuck… shit shit shit.” His hips raised, dick bobbing with the motion, only spurring you further as you hummed around him.

“Bunny, baby, please.” He whined out.

You released him with a slight pop.

“Hmmmmm baby? Look at me and tell me what you need.” Your voice was syrupy sweet as you spoke, unlike the devilish way you were currently torturing him.

He already looked fucked out. His usually meticulous hair disheveled about. His lips parted, releasing shaky pants as he finally met your eyes.

“I…” he swallowed. “I need you to touch me. Fuck me.”

“That's it. Good boy.” You hummed your approval as your hand finally wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly.

“Goddamn,” he let out breathlessly, he pulled on his restraints once more to no avail.

You licked the dribble of precum leaking down the side of his head as he shuddered. Finally enveloping him in your warm, wet mouth taking him as far back as your throat would allow.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks and pumping what you couldn't fit.

He was panting, letting out moans. His noises only make you more wet, suddenly your cunt is clenching around nothing, making you well aware of your own neglected desire.

His hips suddenly jerked up making you gag around him, taking him further down your throat.

“Fucking hell. I… I need to fuck you. I'm not going to last like this.” He choked out. “Please baby. I need my cock in that sweet little pussy.”

You pull off of him, still holding his base with a firm grip.

“Fine,” you sighed, climbing into his lap situating your bare cunt so you were straddling his cock, but you didn't move.

You leaned over pressing a kiss to his chest, reaching in between you as you lifted your hips and lined him up to your entrance.

You pressed another kiss to his cheek, “I'm going to put you out of your misery, but it's because my neglected cunt is throbbing right now, and don't you dare fucking cum until after I've had another.”

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Promise, just need you.”

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, only allowing the tip to breach, you moaned in unison at the small relief.

You then began the descent, taking each inch little by little feeling every ridge and vein as his cock filled you to the brim.

He soon bottomed out, as your hips settled flush to his. It had you moaning out again.

“Fuck baby, you're so big.” You were trying to give your pussy time to adjust but he snapped his hips up into you, ever impatient.

“Ow, fuck Gator!” you whined out, looking back down to him.

“Quit bein' a fuckin’ cock tease. Bounce Bunny!" He growled.

You raised your hips, obliging him. Alternating between bouncing and grinding.

Sounds of shared pants and moans mixed with your slick cunt filled the room.

“Yeah, mama. That's it. Use my cock. Take what you need. Is’ all yours.” He started blabbering, tuning out half of what he was saying.

“Shut up Gator!” You'd suddenly had enough of his mouth.

You reached over and found what you were looking for, shoving your wadded up panties past his lips. When your taste hit his tongue once more, he couldn't help from moaning around them as his eyes rolled back.

You continued to ride him just the way you both liked. Warmth blooming in your abdomen, but not quite what you needed.

Raising up so you could toy with your clit, you rubbed circles to your aching nub while still trying to maintain a rhythm as you close your eyes focusing on the feeling.

A few more rolls of your hips and well-orchestrated pressure to your bundle of nerves and you were teetering on the edge.

You were wound tight, as the sounds of Gator fighting the fabric still in his mouth started to be more apparent, but you pay it no mind.

You were tipping over the edge once more.

Harder than before, your pussy clenched around him. Almost strangling him, he let out a few more muffled moans, but you knew he hadn't cum.

You rode it out with a few more grinds, your clit now becoming too sensitive. Your body slumped forward, hands splayed out across his chest, as you tried to control your ragged breath.

He was finally able to spit the fabric out with a huff.

“Bunny, look at me.” He spoke.

When you didn't respond right away, he bucked his hips again making you falter, but it gained your attention as you met his eyes.

“Hey! Unlock the cuffs.” His eyes grew darker, he needed to fuck you. Make you fall apart beneath him.

“Now! Get the fuckin' key.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

He was done playing games. You let him slip from you, moving your shaky hand quickly to the side table pulling the drawer open and producing the key.

He watches your every move, eyes full of hunger. The key slid into the lock and unlatched easily. As soon as his wrists were free, he was on you.

He flipped you both easily, so you were now on your back. Knocking your thighs apart to accommodate him, grabbing your hips and pulling you further up he slid his cock back in with one swift push to the hilt.

“Oh… Fuck!” Your back arched, screaming his name as he pulled nearly all the way out only to push back in setting a near brutal pace in your now overstimulated cunt, his head kissing your cervix with each push.

He watched your tits bounce with every thrust, as his eyes slid lower watching his massive dick split you open over and over again. The sight of the creamy ring at the base of his cock from your juices was driving him mad.

Your eyes rolled back, as you fisted the sheets beneath your hands, trying to ground yourself.

He leaned forward, hand moving around your throat pinning you under him.

“Look at you, all dumb on my fuckin' cock. Mmmmm. You… you think it's funny teasin’ me all fuckin’ night?” He asked but knew you were too far gone to actually answer. He couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

“That's it, sweet thing, takin’ this cock so fuckin' well.” He thrusts harshly, making you cry out once more.

He pistons his hips up slightly, so he could abuse that spot inside you he knew would have you seeing stars in no time as you fluttered around him. He tightened his hold on your throat, cutting off your air slightly.

“That's it baby. She's practically sucking me back in now. You can give me one more, right?”

You whimpered.

Unsure if you could but when he started talking to you in that condescending tone and his cock shoved so far up your pussy you could practically feel him rearranging your insides, it really was only a matter of time.

“C’mon baby. Cum with me.” He was watching as your face started contorting, a mix of pain from overstimulation and pleasure. Your mouth fell slack, nothing but whimpers falling from your lips.

“I… I’m close, Bun,” his rhythm faltering slightly.

He raised up, removing his hand from your throat, as you gasped for the air you didn't know you were missing.

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing harsh circles.

“Gator, no…ugh... fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was too late. Your orgasm hit you like at full force. You hadn't even felt it building, it was just there.

Your pussy clamped down around him once more as you came with a scream.

“Shitshitshit. There… there she is.” He was able to mumble out as his own release came crashing down.

“Take it all mama. Every single drop. That's what you want, hmmmmm… Fuck… Make sure everyone knows your mine. No one will EVER fuckin' touch you again.”

He filled you, rope after rope painted you from within. He hadn't cum this hard in a long time. He felt like a man possessed, wanting nothing more than to claim you, breed you. Show everyone you were his.

He collapsed on top of you. Head laid on your chest.

You were both sweaty and spent but neither one cared as you both tried to slow your erratic breathing.

Soft pants, shared breaths. He stayed like that for a moment before his softening cock slid from you. He looked up at you then, a small smile and doe eyed.

He began to pepper kisses between your breasts. Lips skimming the various marks that he had left. Kissing the fading red splotches where his hand had been around your throat.

“These are the only kind of marks that are allowed be left on you." He whispered, easing up the rest of the way as he found your lips. You moved languid against each other, savoring the taste of his tongue on yours.

When he’d had his fill he rolled over beside you, pulling you with him.

You laid your head on his chest as he reached down to pull the covers over you both. His arm wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

“You got nothin’ to worry about Bunny. I'll take care of it. Take care of you. Promise.” He whispered, barely hearing him as you let sleep take hold.

You hadn't felt it when he slipped away while you were peacefully off in Dreamland.

Finally returning in the wee hours of the morning with dawn quickly approaching the mattress dipped with his weight as he crawled back in beside you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back into his chest, as he hid his face in the crook of your neck breathing deeply and releasing a heavy sigh.

And when you both woke with the sun filtering through the curtains you didn't mention his bloodied and bruised knuckles that weren't there the night before.

And when Deputy Shelton hadn't shown up for work the next day or the entire following week, you didn't mention that either. It was none of your business.

[marcellaasblog]

Eyes for the Geezer

Main masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend Wyatt takes you to go meet his parents for the first time.When you find out Wyatt has been cheating on you threw out y'all whole relationship,you take Eddie up on his offer but will that do you any good in the end?

Warnings for the whole series: cheating, divorce, angst,smut, smoking,p in v,daddy kink, pervert Eddie, Wyatt's mom is an ass to you, mention of Steve, insecure reader,dom Eddie, switch reader, Wyatt mom is a cheater,huge age gap,insecure Eddie, and of course fluff with a Happy ending??

Author's notes: Eddie is 50 reader is 27 . I'm gonna keep the same names from the old story. Beth (Eddie's wife) Wyatt (beth & Eddie son) mack/Mackenzie (Wyatts ex girlfriend)

Part 1 // part 3

Part 2

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.

Everything was going great,Wyatt was laughing at his dad's joke. You were chatting up with Beth sipping some cheap wine,All four of y'all were being peaceful with each other and you liked it. You liked being a part of things like this.You like feeling included instead of being left out.

You can get used to this.

That's until Wyatt's phone went off and it was like the whole energy in the room shifted.

Wyatt started up an old argument from years ago which caused a yelling battle in front of his parents.

Was it embarrassing?

Yes.

Was Wyatt being an asshole?

Definitely.

Wyatt did the most childish he can ever possibly do

He

Left

Without

You!

You gotta be fucking kidding me! What were you supposed to do now ,you can't just stay in someone's house that you barely knew.

Eddie felt terribly bad that Wyatt was being a dick to you.

But he did get to have you at this house, so that was a bonus.

Eddie didn't want to take you back to the hotel so he made up an excuse saying he was very tired and and maybe you and Wyatt needed some space from each other so he let you sleep in their guest bedroom for tonight . Eddie went to go get the room cleaned up for you like a good man he was.

.

On the other hand Beth was already pissed that her son left a woman in her house she barely knew. Which was understandable But you were too tired to even care about what she said.

You just needed Eddie to hurry up with the room .

Maybe some good sleep would help you but tomorrow you needed to go talk to Wyatt and sort things out with him.

You love him and you weren't going to let a little fight get between the both of you.

.

Eddie lays out a new sheet on the bed for you as he Puffs up your pillows for your pretty little head. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

He thought to himself for a second.

Would it be wired for him to turn on the cameras that were in the guest room?

Yes,yes it would. but hey no one had to know.

He just wanted the camera on so he could keep an eye on you and to make sure you were okay and safe.

He just wanted to make sure his guest was comfortable.

Yeah keep on telling that lie to yourself munson.

.

Eddie heads downstairs after he got his camera to turn on making sure that he could see the video footage on his phone.

He swears he's just doing it to check up on you.

That's all.

"Hey y/n the room is all yours now." Eddie said as he led you upstairs.

"Thank you Eddie this means Alot,sorry about the whole argument that me and Wyatt got into . I swear we were okay till now. I don't know what got into him." You apologize putting your purse down on the Queen size bed slipping your coat off from your tired body.

Oh,if only you knew what he knew.

"Don't apologize sweetie,it wasn't your fault. Wyatt can be an ass sometimes,but he gets that from his mom." Eddie said, leaning against the door of the guest room. You giggle at Eddie's little comment about Wyatt.

"No but seriously don't feel bad."

"I know but I can't help it , I didn't want to be a disturbance to your family the first time I meet y'all." You sit at the edge of the bed taking off your beat up boots.

Eddie eyed you as you leaned down to take your boots off, he caught a glimpse of your perky breasts from the opening of your shirt. He shifted his legs leaning on the other foot quickly pulling the crock of his pants away to his already hard bulge.

Fuck him for getting old and getting hard so quickly.

"You're not a disturbance y/n."

"That's not what your wife thinks." You tell Eddie as you look up at him.

You were right,but Beth hates everyone. It was normal.

"Yeah well ,this isn't her house it's mine so you're allowed to stay here as long as you please." Eddie told you to put a smile on your face.

God you had such pretty lips with a pretty smile.

He was just about to say fuck the plan so he could feel your lips on his.

Take a deep breath Eddie not yet.

"That's very kind of you Eddie thank you" You tell him

"No problem sweetheart, we're friends now and friends help out friends." He applied as he backed out the door.

"WAIT EDDIE."' you said as he turned his head back into your view.

"Yes?'

"Do you have anything to wear I don't feel like sleeping in my jeans tonight." You asked, biting your bottom lip.

"Uh yeah let me check I'll be right back."

"THANK YOU!" You yell down the hall as he quickly jogs to his only to see Beth already in bed flipping through the channel on the tv.

"What did she want to know?" Beth asked as her eyes were still on the tv.

"She needs some clothes to sleep in so I'm checking your draw real quick." Eddie said as he opened the drawer tossing clothes out of her drawer not caring if he was making a mess.

"You gotta be fucken kidding me ,first she fights with our son then she stays the night and now you're letting her wear my clothes. Are you serious right now Edward?" She asked as Eddie van heard the venom in her words.

"For fucks sakes Elizabeth she didn't start shit with Wyatt he's just an ass and she can stay here as long as she wants, fuck she can maybe move in if she wanted for all I care, and lastly This is my house not yours." Eddie slamming the dresser drawer.

"And you know what she doesn't need your clothes I'll just let her use mine." Eddie stomped into his shared closet looking through his clothes looking for a big shirt since he didn't have pants to give you. He pulls out one of his old work flannels as he storms out of his bedroom knocking at the guest room you were in .

"Hey so funny story, Beth did want me to give you any of her clothes so I found an old flannel of mine because I did NOT have pants for you, so you can just button it up and pray to God that it will cover your body." He let out an awkward chuckle.

"Oh, no that's okay I'm perfectly fine with that.Thank you." You take the flannel out from Eddie's hands.

He felt the coldness of the tip of your finger on his palm as you grabbed the flannel from him.

Yeah okay that he needed to get out of there IMMEDIATELY.

"Well okay I'm gonna go lay down if you need anything I mean anything just knock on our door and let me know."

"Alrighty Eddie thank you goodnight." You tell him as you let a tired yawn out stretching out your arms.

"Good night sweetie." Eddie left and quickly ran into his room entering his bathroom not caring what Beth was complaining about now. He locked the door behind him quickly pulling out his phone as he pressed on his home security cameras.

Eddie didn't feel one bit of guilt as he slid down his pants to his ankles as he set his phone on the toilet top hovering his cock over the toilet bow as he watched you take off your top.

Eddie took his length into his own hands as he teased himself slowly starting at the tip of his leaking cock.he looks back at his phone as he sees you throwing your shirt on he bed,from the view he had he saw how your tits jiggle at every movement you made.he could see you reaching down to undo your pants he teases the tip as he smears his fluids all around his leaking tip as he grabs his ball with his other hand massaging them with his finger.He bites down on his lip trying to keep quiet as his wife is in the other room.you dropped your pants to floor bending down as he sees a perfect views of your round ass. Eddie strokes himself as he could ear the wet sounds of his hand meeting his cock .He closed his eyes for a second imagining your kneeling down in front of his while he strokes himself, he really wanted to cum in your mouth but also on your tits or wait! maybe on your ass or even better inside if you he wondered how tight you would be and if you would giggle while he slips his cock into your tight Young pussy. His thoughts got so wrapped up in his head he forgot that he was watching you. Eddie opens his eyes only to see that you are done and ready for bed as he sees you snuggling up with one of the pillows.

Fuck!

He had to go back to using his imagination as he jerks himself one last time letting out a low grunt as his hot white cum shoots into the toilet and all over his hand and balls. He rides out his orgasms slowly setting down his sensitive balls.he grabs some toilet paper to clean himself up , he hisses as he whips off his cum from his sensitive soft cock.

Did he just jerk off to his son's girlfriend and feel no guilt whatsoever?

Hell yes he did.

He was growing impatient all he needed was for Wyatt to fuck up so he he can move along to the next step. He is Lucky that Wyatt and you are here for a couple more days that will definitely be more time for things to unravel.

.

Eddie laid in his bed that night with his wife in his arms he thought about you and How pretty you were when he first saw pictures of you and How nice and sweet you were when he met you and how sexy you were when you were changing. He smiled at the thought of getting to taste you very soon.

.

you lay in the bed but you couldn't get the thought out of your head of Eddie watching you while you slept.

A smile creeped up on your face as you watched the red light blink from above your bed.

Oh if only he knew that you could see the bright blinking red button.

He was a pretty face with no brains.

You went to sleep with a uncomfortable aching feeling between your legs.

.

.

.

"Hey y/n sweetie it's time to wake up,I made you pancakes"Eddie looks down at the plate.",well kind of I burnt them so ego's it was." Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at you and your sudden movement but you weren't waking up when he set the plate down on the dresser and he moved your hair out of your face. You looked Peaceful a little too peaceful, your skin was glowing in the early morning sunlight and your plumped lips squished together by the pillow in your cheek he giggled a bit on how your hair looks and the way it was sticking up, his thick fingers caress your cheek whispering for you to wake up. He heard you your little whines as you slowly stirred awake opening your eyes as you got a glimpse of Eddie, but your fist were too fast before you could stop yourself as you punched him in the face.

Eddie yelps In shock and in pain as he stumbles back.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!?" Eddie asked as he viciously rubbed his cheek.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I AM SO FUCKEN SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN THAT, YOU JUST SCARED ME AND MY BODY REACTED BEFORE I COULD I'M SO SO SORRY EDDIE." you say as you get out of the bed not even caring if you're wearing pants or not all you wanted to do was just help him.

"Well at least I know you can defend yourself." Eddie chuckled nervously as he saw you get out from the bed getting a glimpse of your naked legs.

"I am so sorry, come on, I'll help you downstairs." You grabbed Eddie's hand slowly but quickly walking him down the stairs.

"Hey I'm hurt, I'm not that old I can walk down the stairs perfectly fine." He didn't mind, actually he thought it was pretty cute for you to take care of him.

"Yeah I know but it would make me feel way much better." You sit Eddie down on the chair as you open up the freezer looking through it to find an ice pack or ice at this point.

"It's on the side door bottom shelf." Eddie said as you lookback thanking him.Eddie eyes roamed your body as he got a glimpse of your black cotton panties as you bent down.

Shit you might need to take care of something else for him too.

Quick it Munson, STOP BEING A PERV.

You grabbed a paper towel as you wrapped it around the ice pack not wanting to put it directly on his eye . Eddie hisses at the coldness pressing on to his pulsing red eye.

"Sorry." You say As you hold it there for a second. You couldn't help but notice as your eyes roamed his chest that he had more tattoos but you couldn't make out what they were.

"Hey, my eye is up here." Eddie told you as you let out a nervous giggle.

Eddie grabbed onto your hand that was holding the ice pack as he slowly moved it from his eye replacing your hand with his.

"Hey I got it from here how about you go upstairs and eat your breakfast and maybe" he looks you up and down."put some pants on please."

You look down at your bare legs as you back away from him.

"Yeah you're probably right thank you Eddie, and I'm very sorry."

"Hey, it's all right it was an accident." He told you as he put his hand on your shoulder.

You nod your head as you quickly walk out of the dining room almost tripping as you turned back around to ask Eddie something.

"Hey by the way is it okay if you can drop me off at the hotel once I'm done." You asked .

"If my eye is still attached, yes I don't mind." He joked looking up at your nervous face.

"Hey Im fucking around, I don't mind."

"Yeah I knew that , thank you Eddie." You ran up the stairs.

"NO PROBLEM SWEETIE!" he yelled.

.

"Hey you ready doll?" Eddie asked swinging his keys in his hands.

"yup I'm coming." You walked down the stairs In your outfit you had on from yesterday.

Eddie opens the door letting you go out first as the gentleman he is .

You wait for Eddie to Lock the door so he can point to which car yall were taking, but instead he goes to the garage putting the code in the pad.

The garage door opens up as Eddie passes you a helmet.

"what's this for." You looked confused

"we, sweetie are taking my bike instead, it is way to hot out here." Eddie drags out his huge two seater motorcycle.

"holy shit is that a BMW R1250 RT !" You asked really as you put the helmet on your head.

Eddie looked back at you with a smirked on his face,he likes how intrigued you were .

"Yeah! how did you know." He was shocked to know you knew about bikes not that it was a bad thing it's just that beth and Wyatt would get annoyed when he would bring up his bike in conversations he thought it was pretty cool if you to know he felt his cheeks heat up looking at you as your eyes roamed his bike.

"It been a dream of mine to get one but Wyatt said it was too dangerous for me." You happily put on the helmet as you do a little dance of excitement.

God could you get any more fucken hotter.

"HA, well look at that beth said the same thing , I haven't took this baby out in while cause of her." Eddie drags his bike out into the street puts on his helmet, Eddie throws his leg over his bike as he starts up the engine hearing the loud sound roar of the Motorcycle.

You get all excited as Eddie lends his hand out telling you to get on.

"Hold on tight babe, don't want you pretty self getting hurt." Eddie said over the loud noises of the bike.

You wrapped your arms around Eddie feeling how big and stiff his torso really was you swear you could feel abs under his jacket. As Eddie takes off you lean your head onto his shoulder feeling the hard wind breeze on your neck.

Eddie could stop his smiling under his helmet as he could hear you humming and giggling . He could feel your arms tighten around him as your hands dangled above his croch.

It is the wrong time for him to be getting hard.

Eddie let his thoughts flow as he try's to get him mind off of his uncomfortable bulge.

He can hear your little gigglea of excitement from behind him. He thought it was so adorable on how you were reacting.

How can Wyatt be so cruel to someone so innocent and sweet?

.

.

You arrive at the hotel. Eddie parks his bike taking off his helmet. His hair looked funny as it stuck to his tatted neck . You could help but giggle as you see Eddie putting his hair up into a bun.Eddie turns around sticking his tounge out at you as you shook your head.

You and eddie turn your heads when you hear one of the hotel room doors open and a blonde tall woman walks out while she pulls down her red skimpy dress but right behind her is Wyatt as he grabs her by the back if her neck smashing his lips into hers

Your smile drops as you stare up at the scene in front of you.

You couldn't believe it.

Before Wyatt can look down at you and eddie, Eddie turns his body to make sure Wyatt can't see you

"Sweetheart, look at me please." Eddie asked as he could hear the small cry coming from your whining lips .

"Can you just please take me somewhere else?" You asked not looking up at him as you play with the end of your shirt.

Eddie kisses your head starting up his bike as he makes eye contact with his son.

He smirks up at Wyatt taking off to the closest diner.

.

The waitress sits you and Eddie at a booth. Eddie puts his big hand over you hand caressing your knuckles between his fingers.

He sees you as you start to cry he quickly gets up from his side scooting into your side as he takes your body into his arms.

"Shh it's okay baby I got you, let it out pretty girl." He says as he rubs your arms and back kissing your forehead your head he tries to comfort you as much as he can but he's not very good at that.

"I'm so mad at him ,I trusted him, why would he do that to me." You say as you can feel your hot tears running down your cheek Eddie wipes them away with his thumb looking at you with all the sadness in his big brown eyes.

Eddie didn't like it but either. Yeah he wanted his own son to fuck up . but that's because he wanted him to show you how he really was and that he wasn't faithful and he never loved you from the start .

Wyatt was Just like his mom when he found out that beth was still sleeping with Steve her ex-boyfriend not just any guy named Steve but Steve Harrington the guy that he thought was his friend.

But for all he cares Steve can keep her he just hopes that Nancy know About her husbands and Beth's little affair they have going on Steve owns Nancy at least that.

But besides that he wasn't going to stick around and watch poor little you get your feelings hurt or watch him get fucked over by the same woman.

"Y/n?

"Yes Eddie?"

"Would you like to take up an offer ?"

Taglist: @userlaiss7 @ali-r3n @eddiemunson95 @names-were-taken @taylorswiftspeaknow @peachy-bunnns @jackchampionsbbg @hellfirefiend @eddiesguitarskills @alyisdead @nope-thanks

The @ that are Crossed out did not let me add you I'm very sorry about that.

[thebramblewood]

Lilith does a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing (because she's big sad about her brother moving out and getting a life of his own).

Previous / Next

Misael: [dubiously] You’re GoldenSerpent1891?

Lilith: That’s right. Are you surprised?

Misael: You’re just… not what I was expecting. I’m n1ght_wr4ith. Obviously. But, uh, you can call me Misael. What’s your real-

Lilith: Let’s not waste time with pleasantries. I’ve got what you need.

MIsael: Where did you find it? How did you find it?

Lilith: A lady never tells. Let’s just say I have my ways.

Misael: Well, how much do you want for it? [mutters dejectedly] Probably more than I can offer.

Lilith: It’ll cost you nothing so long as you do what you say you’re going to do with it.

Misael: I know my quarrel with the Sages. They snuff out any magic stronger than their own just to steal it and keep it under lock and key with their stifling ranks and rules. But what do you have against them?

Lilith: [hisses] You ask too many questions. Do you want this thing or not?

Misael: Of course!

Lilith: Silversweater and Faba are practically sawdust already. They won’t put up much of a fight, so don’t waste your energy. But watch out for Ember. If anyone knows their way around dark magic, it’s that insufferable fucking know-it-all.

Misael: [sneers] Not even Morgyn will see me coming. If this book holds the spells I think it does, they’ve been banned in the Realm since before those geezers’ time. They won’t stand a chance. And when they’re gone, those stupid floating space rocks will finally fall apart for good.

Lilith: Let’s hope for your sake you’re right. You wouldn’t want to end up on my bad side, now, would you?