#that cliffhanger at the ending

[soundcrusher]

Back in the nightmare

Part 8 of season 3 from my ongoing series set in the sentient Sg/Lost Light au from @cuppajj is out....

I'm not going to say much. I'm not even going to say enjoy...

Trigger Warning: Gore, Dismemberment, Trauma(?), Sentient Sg/Lost Light (yes, they are their own warning now)

-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-.-;-

It was time. 

Deep down, Rodimus knew that he could never escape the Lost Light. Not as long as his spark beat. And even then, he doubted that the Lost Light would ever truly let him go. They have burned themselves into his spark and mind and made a home there. 

Even if Rodimus and ‘his team’ managed to shut the Lost Light down, rendering them forever frozen in a state of nothingness. Turning them into nothing more than a ship, their memory would live on. They successfully casted a shadow over the lives of not only him and his brother, but also over all those they killed and, in extension, the families of those who died on board. Cybertronians who will never return home to those they love, or call a friend. And it would stay that way forever. Nothing would be able to change history, and even if he went back in time, Rodimus was sure that the stream of time would stay the same. 

Never changing and always leading to the same outcome. 

A terrible thought, if he was allowed to admit. To think that everything he has ever done would lead to this, no matter what. It made him feel… sad. 

But then again, maybe there was a universe where everything was different. Where he was a good mech and where the Lost Light wasn’t like his. Maybe this other Rodimus would also have a Phoenix. One untouched by the wickedness of Lightlost. One who had to never be subjected to their manipulation and corrections. Ah, but who would be able to ask these kinds of questions? Who could tell him if this kind of  Universe even existed? Brainstorm might have been able to tell him at one point, but he was long gone. Dead, grey, and propped up in Swerve’s next to Perceptor.

Rodimus could still remember walking into Swerve’s for the first time in centuries. He was expecting to find nothing, maybe some corpses lying around, but never would he have imagined to see some of his crew being propped up like toys. Sitting on tables with drinks in their servos, or leaning against the bar as if they were ordering something. But then, there was Phoenix amongst all of the corpses. Sitting in his favorite booth, drinking his energon and studying for an entrance exam he never got to take. And as he saw him, his face lit up with so much joy, before he showed him around. Telling him how he made the bar more alive. How wrong it felt at first, but then he got used to it. Phoenix got used to propping corpses up like toys! And with the Lost Light always listening, Rodimus couldn’t tell his brother how that wasn’t normal. How this was-

The prime was pulled out of his thoughts by Dominus. He doesn’t know where the turbofox came from, but he was still thankful. Who knows where his mind would have wandered too, if he didn’t decide to trot over and pump his head against Rodimus’ leg. 

��I doubt you have ever seen the ship…” Muttered the prime, as he ran a servo over Dominus’ head. “Back then, when we started our journey, we didn’t know that the ship was alive. So, we simply had our adventures… our fun. We just lived and did some things you and the rest of the DJD wouldn’t like… Heh… Thinking back to those days still feels strange… To think the Lost Light was alive through all of that. Maybe if I was a better captain, I would have realized it sooner…” Rodimus grew quiet for a bit, as he stared out of the window and towards the Lost Light. This was supposed to be his ship, but now? It didn’t feel like that anymore.

The Lost Light no longer was his home. And he doubted he would ever remember it as such. 

“Alright… I better find Kaon before I make my way over there.” Rodimus couldn’t help but chuckle at Dominus’ look. For someone who underwent ‘domestication’ that mech still has a lot of personality. Most likely thanks to the efforts of the DJD. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to scare him, cross my spark, I just have… something to give to him before I charge into the lion's den… And no, I can’t take you with me. On both trips. I don’t want to hear Phoenix’s whining, should something happen to you.” And with that said, Rodimus gave Dominus a small, cocky, salute, before making his way to where he knew Kaon was. Knocking on his door and entering. Scaring the poor mech half to death. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Look,” he started, while pulling out a data-pad from within his subspace. Walking over to the table in the room and placing it there, because Rodimus knew that if he took one step towards the skittish mech, he would probably scare him half to death. “I know that you don’t trust me. Pit, I probably scare you by just standing in this room, but I need you to have this.” Rodimus looked over at Kaon, noting how the mech was shaking like one of those leaves found on earth, before raising his servos in a non threatening gesture and stepping away. “These are all the files I could collect on one of my… ‘assignments’. He was a mech who did some ‘domestications’ during his time as an Autobot and might be able to help Dominus get his life back.”

“And why are you… why are you giving me that?” Asked Kaon, as he walked over to the data-pad. Picking it up and looking through the files to make sure they were legit. After all, Tarn might trust the prime, but that didn’t mean that Kaon did. “I don’t understand why you would try to help Dominus, when you were one of those who did this to him.”

Rodimus was quiet for a moment, before letting out a defeated sigh and shaking his head. Turning around towards the door and leaving the room, but not before answering the question. “Through a twist of fate, or a cruel joke from Primus and Unicron, I not only wound up with one brother, but two.” And with those strangely ominous words said, Rodimus left. Making his way towards his ship where Softstreet, Fungus and Pharma were already waiting for him, to go over some parts of the plan, before it was time for the prime to go back to the Lost Light. With Pharma coming with him in case Phoenix or someone else would need medical treatment right away and the DJD following a few moments after, while the Scavengers stayed behind together with Softstreet, Fungus and Dominus in case their plan goes wrong and they have to make a quick escape. 

And as Rodimus landed his small ship inside the hangar of the Lost Light and took the first step outside, he could feel nothing but contempt towards the ship. But he pushed past that feeling and made his way towards where he assumed was his brother. Calling out to the Lost Light every now and then in the hopes of drawing them out, much to Pharma’s concern. He was trying to make them drop their act and do something, anything, but never did Rodimus get a reaction from them. Although, he could feel their invisible optics on him and the medic. How they raked over their frames, his especially, in something he would describe as happiness for seeing him back in his former glory. It made Rodimus’ plating bristle and spoiler hike up in defense. 

“Are you alright Rodimus? You seem to be more agitated than usual.” Asked Pharma softly, as he placed a comforting servo onto the speedsters shoulder. “If it’s because of your worry towards Phoenix, I am sure that he is fine. If not, I’ll be able to patch him up without any problem.”

Rodimus could only laugh dryly at Pharma’s question. “Agitated? Who? Me? No. It’s not agitation I am feeling, but… I believe someone is impressed by your work.” Said the prime with a small smirk on his lips, before he turned his head slightly to look at Pharma. “I mean, you did an amazing job. It probably was hard to rebuild my whole frame without the original as a reference.” That statement seemed to not only get Pharma talking about how he, and his team, rebuilt Rodimus’ frame and how he made sure everything was correctly put together and would function without any trouble, but also got the Lost Light’s attention. 

Good. 

Rodimus might doom the doctor to a fate worse than death, should their plan fail, but at least he was now someone the Lost Light would consider useful. The DJD though? Rodimus wasn’t sure what the Lost Light would do to them, but if push comes to shove and they should fail, Rodimus was willing to give the Lost Light the one thing they want, in exchange for the DJD to return freely to their ship. But that was only in case they would fail, and Rodimus was sure that they would succeed. 

They had to succeed. 

And with that in mind, the prime and doctor continued their journey through the empty halls of the Lost Light. With Rodimus noting how dirty the ship has become with no-one running through its halls and cleaning them. Although, the few paintings on the walls seemed to be taken care of quite well. Even the arrows and descriptions were still as fresh as the day they were painted. It made the prime think of the small paintings Phoenix made in their ship. Especially the one depicting every single Cybertronian Phoenix called his family, even Lightlost. He did once ask Phoenix why he didn’t paint over them, but he never got a clear answer. His brother always seemed to distract from the question, by either telling him about his day, or showing him what he was studying at the moment. 

After a while of walking around, and opening many different doors, or continuing if the door didn’t open, Rodimus and Pharma stumbled upon the medical bay. At first, Rodimus didn’t want to enter, but as Pharma said that he could hear something in there moving, the prime was quick to open it. Hoping that it would be Phoenix, but all he found was a grotesque scene of various body parts laying around and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the detached right gun arm of the poor mech laying on the berth was hanging from the ceiling. Wrapped up in cables that slowly retreated, taking the arm with them into the ceiling. 

While Rodimus was observing the room, Pharma was quick to rush over to the damaged mech. Checking his vitals, before starting to take care of his new patient. “Rodimus! Get over here! This mech is still alive!” Shouted the medic, and as the prime was close enough, he was quick to get him to help with saving the poor spark bleeding out in front of them. Or, at least he was bleeding out. Pharma successfully managed to save the dying mech from offlining. 

And as the spilled energon was wiped down from his frame, Rodimus recognized the wide optics staring back at him. “Thrillchaser? I thought the Lost Light would have killed you by now. You’re one sturdy bastard, if even dismemberment couldn’t kill you.” Oh, what Rodimus wouldn’t give for a camera right now, because Thrillchaser’s look was just too good. And it seemed like the flier had at least some sense of humor left in his spark, because he lifted his remaining arm, only to flip Rodimus off. Which caused the prime to laugh louder than he intended, before giving Thrillchaser the bird back. After that though, Rodimus helped Pharma in fixing the flier's damaged voice box. And despite the odds, they managed to find a fitting replacement for the broken mech. 

“First time… seeing me since… that day, and… and you give me the middle finger?” Thrillchaser asked in between coughs, while Rodimus only laughed and Pharma looked at them with the ‘disappointed grandpa look’. “Well, you sure enough deserve more after what you did, but seeing you like this… I think the Lost Light already made you suffer enough. Also, you flipped me off first. So, I was fully justified in doing the same to you.” Said the prime, before his cocky attitude shifted to one of concern. “Are you alright though? Can you move?”

“...My legs… can’t feel them… useless like this…” Muttered the mech quietly, as he slowly sat up. Minding his freshly patched up frame, or, at least, what remained of it. “Rodimus… Phoenix… He’s… He’s… Oh no…” Thrillchaser was becoming frantik, Rodimus could see that, but as he tried to calm the flier down, he got grabbed by the front of his plating and pulled down to be face to faceplate with Thrillchaser. “I… made mistakes… many of them… leaving Tankcrusher and Phoenix was….. was my…. was my biggest…. But… but…. made me watch… had to watch…” Thrillchaser’s optics had a hard time concentrating on the prime in front of him. They kept on flickering on and off, while his grip slowly slipped. Looks like the Energon loss was finally making him faint. And here he was wondering when exactly it would happen. “Primus… they made me watch…”

“What did they make you watch?” Asked Pharma softly, as he carefully separated the flier’s servo from the primes plating. Guiding Thrillchaser back down onto the medical berth with one servo, while the other clutched his in a comforting manner. “It’s okay, if you don’t want to tell us. It’s okay. Just keep talking with me.”

“N-no…. no…” Muttered Thrillchaser quietly, as he clutched Pharma’s servo as tightly as he could, before forcing his optics to concentrate on the prime standing behind the medic. Giving Rodimus a look the prime could only describe as horrified. “Took his wings… they… they took his wings and legs… Primus… it’s my fault… Everything is my fault!” He cried out. “Everything, my fault… Bessie… oh Bessie….”

Rodimus watched the broken mech cry, while Pharma did his best to comfort him. “Pharma… stay with him. Make sure that he doesn’t die, while I keep on searching. If something should happen, comm me.” Was all the prime said, before turning around and running out of the medi-bay. Transforming into his alt-mode as soon as he was in the hall and racing towards the halls towards the bridge. It was the only place coming to mind where the Lost Light could keep the youngspark. And if he wasn’t there, Rodimus was going to look in one of the many hab-suits.

It didn’t take long for Rodimus to end up in front of the bridge, but before he could enter, he received two messages. One from Pharma, who informed him that Thrillchaser just passed out and that he was going to move him towards the ship in the hangar, and one from Tarn, who informed him that they made it onto the ship and were now on their way to the place Rodimus told them to go to. And after sending a quick message back to both of them, Rodimus took one deep intake to calm his nerves, before entering the bridge. Finding the Holo-Avatar of Lightlost leaning against the captain's chair and talking to whoever was sitting in it. 

“Ah, welcome home captain. I was wondering when you would show up. Both of us were wondering that, isn’t that right?” Asked Lightlost sweetly, while they softly ran a servo over the helm of whoever they were speaking to. The room was too dark for Rodimus to make out who it was, but considering everything, the prime didn’t have to guess.

“Y-yes… Lightlost….” The voice that answered was quiet, barely even a whisper, but Rodimus could hear it clearly, and as the lights on the bridge turned on, he could see who was sitting on his chair. And by Primus and Unicron, did Rodimus wish that it would have been anyone else, because sitting in his chair was his brother. Young, innocent Phoenix, who no longer resembled the excited youngspark ready to show Rodimus his newest patch of Energon cookies, but rather a broken youngling who flinched just from the slightest movement.

And as Rodimus kept on staring at his brother's face, he couldn’t help the servo coming up to cover his mouth as he saw the missing wings and legs. This was sick, even for his standards, and combined with the fact that his once upbeat brother was now resembling him when he was sitting in that chair, it made his Energon boil.

How dare Lightlost ruin the only good thing in his life? 

Rodimus could feel his flames shoot out of the pipes on his arms, but before he could even take one step towards them, Lightlost wagged with their finger as if they were scolding a disobeying sparkling, before grabbing Phoenix’s right servo. “Ah, ah, ah, captain. I wouldn’t try anything, if I was you.”

“Why?” Asked the prime, which was met with a small chuckle from the holo-avatar, before their smile grew even sweeter. “Because, I will have to do something like this if you do.” And with one swift move of their servo, Lightlost ripped Phoenix’s servo clean off. Throwing it in front of the prime’s feet, while the youngling cried out in horror. 

“Because the little bird has only so many body parts left, before all that remains is his spark and head.”

[my-hyperfixations]

I am still VERY unwell from this finale

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (again, if you look extra closely), a lot of cussing (are we still surprised)

masterlist | part 1 (although ig this makes sense on its own), part 3 (i didn't plan this), part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

“What.”

It’s less of a question and more of a statement—a statement sputtered in the typically demanding way characteristic of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.

The Bakugou Katsuki who happens to be your boss for a good (debatable) three and a half years now, who you also have to spend overtime with until who knows what time to discuss what’s become rocky employee relations in the Ground Riot agency.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion or irrational annoyance—both, really—before you quickly school your expression into a neutral one. You riffle through the documents rather absentmindedly, avoiding his gaze before shooting back with: “What do you mean what?”

“I meant,” he leans back on his office chair that you know he singlehandedly picked out for its superior ergonomic design because he’s meticulous like that, “what the fuck is wrong with your face.”

“Excuse me?”

Your retort is laced with more indignant anger than intended, but at this point in the night, you cannot for the life of you bring yourself to care about your tone. It’s been a long day, and you weren’t about to let your stupid boss make fun of your appearance, of all things.

Bakugou probably senses the significant change in your demeanor, because his eyes widen in surprise ever so slightly before he sits up and opens his mouth to explain himself.

“You’ve been looking like you accidentally drank spoiled milk for the past hour and the shit aftertaste isn’t going away.” He haughtily shakes his head, and it takes everything in you not to jump him and choke your boss.

To your disdain, however, he continues.

“It’s either you spit it out or I’m going to have to force you to tell me what’s wrong.”

You gape at him. Whatever you expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

As quickly as you can, however, you attempt to regain your bearings and at least try to seem nonchalant, clearing your throat as unbothered as possible to top it all off. “Well, working overtime to iron out office squabbles isn’t exactly my idea of a relaxing Friday night, thank you very much.”

He scoffs. “Bullshit.”

You almost get whiplash from how quickly you look at him. His brazen rudeness—which, right now, is worse than usual which is saying something, mind you—renders you incapable of saying anything aside from another winded: “Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Miss me with that bullshit, dumbass.”

You feel yourself heat up in irritation. “I thought I told you to stop calling me dumbass.”

“You’d rather I call you princess?”

At that, you break eye contact despite yourself, choosing to stare at his forehead instead. It’s still unnerving—looking at any part of his body, really—but it’s better than looking at him squarely and witnessing the smirk you know has taken over his unfairly handsome features.

Your voice is small, to your chagrin, when you reply. “That’s actually a lot worse.”

The man dares to bark out a laugh.

You continue to metaphorically choke him in your head.

“Okay then, dumbass,” he emphasizes the nickname and you are about 99% sure a pained expression is dancing across your face because Bakugou is observing you with even more amusement before his features settle into a look of seriousness.

“As I was saying before you missed the point entirely—I highly doubt you’re this bothered because of fucking overtime,” he eyes you cautiously before pressing on. “Something’s wrong.”

You don’t know if it’s the exhaustion of the week filled with workplace conflict, or the crushing news you received this morning in the mail, or the very fact that Bakugou, despite his roughness and the annoyingly persistent way he’s been poking at your mood like it’s an itchy scab, is looking at you with genuine concern—but you end up doing it.

You give in.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes before you even get the chance to deny them permission to, and at the sight of them Bakugou sits up even straighter in alarm—and you don’t know what comes over you because you start laughing so hard, your hand shoots up to your stomach in an attempt to keep it from cramping.

“Oi.”

The expression on his face is so unbelievably baffled that you only end up cackling to yourself more.

It takes a few more minutes before the sillies are fully flushed out of your system and really, it only took you a glance at Bakugou to realize you probably looked demented just now.

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes and muster enough courage to flash him a genuine smile.

To your delight, he flashes you one right back, albeit tentatively—one that is boyish and charming under the rather dim lights of his corner office.

Although he seemingly reboots to his default state because it’s immediately replaced by a frown and followed by: “You’re so weird, you know that?”

You snort and, before you can stop yourself: “Not as weird as my ex.”

At that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes—he visibly stiffens in his seat and his eyebrows furrow in what you believe is confusion at the sudden mention of your past lover.

Bakugou says nothing, however, and so you take that as a sign to continue.

“Remember that meeting we had last March with Chef Asahi about our collaboration with his restaurant where I was late and you gave me shit for it? And when you asked I told you it was because I just got dumped over the phone?”

He gives you a curt nod, lips tight.

“Well,” you chuckle nervously, feeling embarrassed at your upcoming revelation, “I just found out that that ex is getting married in two months, and I’m invited.”

Neither of you says anything for the next—what feels like—hour.

Until Bakugou takes a sharp inhale, leans forward on his desk, and stares you down straight in the eyes: “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

He scowls at you like you’ve got a pea for a brain. “Don’t make me say it twice, dumbass.”

You frown at his hostility, your own bewilderment chipping away at your already thinning patience. “You’re not saying anything.”

Bakugou sighs, and he looks like what he is about to say next physically pains him.

“I’ll be your fucking date to the wedding.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik

special shoutout to @he3v4n for reading the prequel to this and following thereafter--inadvertently making me check out past writing and get inspired to write this <3

[turtleblogatlast]

AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.

When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.

Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.

(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)

[nadvs]

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

[probably-not-a-rutabaga]

karai.

3/3

hehe,, plot twist :3

first

prev

[tmnt one off]

[smokestarrules]

eight-episode seasons becoming the norm, shows being cancelled after their first or second season altogether, corporations not spending a single dollar to promote their renewed shows, corporations deciding to renew based on how many people binge it over and over and over again... this is the slow, choking death of media literacy. 

[rainsnap]

SO, after binge reading PATFW and being left with a huge cliffhanger, I decided to draw some fanart for @barrenclan !!!

I’ve seen some PMVs for Deepdark in the past and kept thinking of looking into this story for awhile. I’m super glad I did! I love the storytelling format and the world building! I do have to confess that when I first saw Deepdark, I asked myself “Why is one of Santa’s reindeer evil??” And left it at that.

[24bughours]

I need these last two episodes to hurt

AND THE WAY THAT HALF OF EPISODE 8 WAS JUST NICE PETRIGROF MOMENTS I WAS ABT TO CRY IM SO EXCITED FOR EPISODE 9

[entelodontidae]

I always go into queer media thinking “oh this is just a silly show about pirates” or “oh this is just a silly fanfiction of the bible” or “oh it’s a goofy horror podcast” and then it turns out to be the most emotionally devastating piece of media I’ve ever seen

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[miusato]

Yeah but what if they're some oddly high budget cartoon from the 00s???

[reds-skull]

Anatomy is one of the biggest thing I need to work on, so why not do it while drawing these two fuckers.

Tried to focus just on the sketch/lineart, so no shading on this one...

[chiscribbs]

Whoop- looks like April's joining the fight! Don't question where she got the bat.

Continuation of this @tmntaucompetition thread! Feat. @noval1t @shiveagit

Grown Apart AU: [Premise/Concept Art] [General tag]

Thread: START /<<Pt. 3 / Pt. 5 / Pt. 6>>

[ladybugkisses]

Lackasona Q&A part four - it could've been worse?

thank you so much for the question, @btonbybton! 💐

[alciedoodles]

part 6 of 7 - future

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