#desperate measures

[70sscifiart]

Here's another '80s Space Crowd Saturday: David B. Mattingly's cover art to "Desperate Measures," by Joe Clifford Faust, 1989. I think we can add Bladerunner right alongside A New Hope when it comes to influentially seedy sci-fi bars.

#art #Space Crowd Saturday #David B. Mattingly #Desperate Measures #Joe Clifford Faust #bladerunner

[dark-fics-4-you]

I have a request!! Rafe whining about reader breaking up with him so when he got to her to sleep with him, he traps her by impregnating her 🤭

Desperate Measures

Warnings: dubcon, smut, toxic relationship, intoxication, drugs, forced pregnancy, unprotected sex

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Everyone had told you that he was bad news, but it took him threatening to slash all of your tires for simply talking to a male friend for you to finally come to terms with the fact that that relationship just was not going to work.

Rafe Cameron had given you the world, in the beginning. Spoiling you with gifts and expensive dates was the norm. He was a man obsessed, taking up all of your free time. At first, you thought it was cute, after all it was nice to feel fawned over, especially by someone as handsome as Rafe.

You loved the way he would look at you, like he was holding himself back from pulling off all of your clothes, even when you were in public. The clench of his jaw and the way his eyes would darken when you looked up at him from under your lashes excited you.

The honeymoon phase only lasted so long before Rafe’s true colors began to show. He was incredibly jealous and controlling to the point that you had felt suffocated. Not to mention the drug use.

In the beginning, you really had fooled yourself into thinking that he would change for you. That lasted for about 2 days, before it was back to lies and you knowing what the glazed look in his eyes meant, even though Rafe denied it and called you crazy.

It was hard to accept that he would always love drugs more than you. You really didn’t want to believe it, but time and time again, he proved to you that you would always be his second priority.

The break up went about as well as you expected it to, which was awful.

Rafe argued back at every reason you gave, but you both knew that you were in the right.

Rafe’s lip curled, cold eyes narrowing as he hurled insults at you, words that at that point were not unfamiliar to you. ‘Bitch!’ ‘Slut!’ ‘Cunt!’ You were so used to those words coming from him that they no longer had power over you. Still, you couldn’t get out of there fast enough, eventually just standing and turning to leave, cutting him off mid sentence.

You gasped when you felt his fingers digging into your forearm, jerking you back against him.

“Y/N, don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you, alright?” Rafe snarled in anger, and you snapped your gaze from where he was gripping you to his eyes, fear emanating from your panicked expression.

“Rafe,” you began shakily, “let go. Just let me go.”

He didn’t say anything, just glaring at you and breathing heavy. Slowly, he released his hold on your arm, never breaking eye contact. His stare was blank, but you could see his upper lip twitching slightly in anger.

“You’re going to regret this, Y/N. You don’t even know how much you’re going to regret this.” His even tone gave you chills, and you quickly rushed out of the Cameron house, nervously glancing behind yourself to make sure he wasn’t following.

You drove a good distance away from his house before you pulled over to the side of the road to cry. You thought that breaking up with Rafe might have gotten him to leave you alone, but you should have known better.

Rafe was not the type to give up easily, and he was used to getting everything he wanted.

You just knew that you needed to stay away from him, because you really didn’t have any idea what he was capable of.

__________________

Rafe was fucking pissed.

He had been furious the last five days. That was how long it had been since you had told him you couldn’t be with him anymore.

He knew that he had made mistakes, but doesn’t everyone? Rafe had only tried to make you his only priority, and that made him the asshole?

No goddamn way.

Topper nodded along as Rafe rambled in a coked out haze. You had come up in every conversation he had had since the breakup. Topper was starting to get tired of it already.

“You know what you should do, Rafe?”

“What?” Rafe, surprised to hear Topper’s response, looked at his friend with an eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“You should remind her how good she had it when you were together,” Topper said with a sly smirk and a snicker. “That’s what I do when Sarah starts getting snippy with me.”

“I don’t even know how or when I’m going to see Y/N next, how the fuck am I going to pull that off?” Rafe rolled his eyes before he leaned over the table to snort another line.

“I mean, she’s still friends with Sarah, right?” Topper looked at Rafe with a raised eyebrow. “She might be going to her birthday party.”

“Birthday?” Rafe asked, perking up.

“Dude, how do you not know Sarah’s birthday? She’s probably throwing the party at your house.” This jogged Rafe’s memory and he recalled Sarah had set up plans to have Ward and Rose out of Tannyhill all weekend.

He gave a mindless response, but his thoughts were racing. Rafe was supposed to be going to that party with you. But instead you’d be by Sarah’s side, or maybe even, unthinkably, on the arm of some other guy. The very thought made him seethe with rage. Rafe knew there was no way he would be able to hold himself back from punching anyone who tried to get in between you and him.

But how could he make you realize that you belonged with him? Rafe couldn’t imagine that you would willingly stay with him, you had made that clear when you ran away from him after breaking his heart.

Rafe was sure you weren’t thinking straight. You didn’t give him the chance to prove to you that he could change. He wasn’t allowed to show you how much better he could be.

There had to be some way he could prove to you that he was all in.

_______________

You swayed your hips in time with the music, somehow capturing Rafe’s attention in a sea of moving bodies. He could tell you were a few drinks in, the flush in your cheeks was obvious to him.

Rafe’s tongue darted out to wet his lips at the sight of your low cut top and short skirt. You looked so good, and Rafe couldn’t help but think about the last time he had seen you wearing that skirt, and how quickly he had gotten you out of it.

The blond leaned over the crowded countertop in front of him, bringing a rolled up dollar bill to his nose before snorting the neat line of coke in front of him.

Even though it was Sarah’s party, it was a Kooks only event, and Rafe made sure of that. He would throw out anyone who didn’t belong.

You had spent most of the night with Sarah and your other mutual friends. Rafe had been silently watching you, just to make sure no guys came up to you. He considered himself lucky for that, because he didn’t really want to cause a scene by breaking someone’s nose at his sister’s birthday party, although he definitely would have if he needed to.

Rafe couldn’t understand why you didn’t see how much he cared for you, how much he could give you.

Eyeing the way the fabric of your outfit clung to your skin, which was now glistening with a thin layer of sweat and various sparkles that had rubbed off on you from people’s clothes, Rafe couldn’t stop himself from wandering how it would feel to kiss your neck and smell your perfume. The almost sheer fabric covering your chest was perfectly accentuating your figure, and the memory of your tits bouncing as Rafe fucked you hard into the mattress flashed through his mind.

It was too much to handle, and Rafe pulled his gaze away from you, taking a large swig of the drink in his hand.

He couldn’t lose you to someone else. He wouldn’t let that happen.

_____________

Despite what you had said to reassure Sarah that you would be fine, you couldn’t lie to yourself and say that being in the Cameron house again wasn’t weird as hell to you.

You had spent many nights just upstairs, usually in Rafe’s room. Being back in the lavish mansion had brought up a lot of memories and feeling in you.

As much as you tried to just lose yourself in the music and have fun, it wasn’t working that way. So you decided the best solution to this would be to get drunk.

Topper had kept your cup full all night, popping back in and out to check on you and Sarah, refilling your drink even when you insisted you wanted to slow down. The fruity drinks Sarah had made proved to be much more alcoholic than you thought they were.

You knew that you could only hold off your bladder for so long, eventually yelling into Sarah’s ear that you were going to go to one of the upstairs bathrooms, knowing you could get a little bit of quiet up there too.

You pushed your way through the large crowd, unknowingly catching the eye of your ex-boyfriend. As you slipped around the corner to get to the double staircase, Rafe pulled away from the countertop he was leering over to quietly follow you up the stairs.

You pulled the bathroom door shut, clicking the lock behind you before you used the restroom. You washed your hands, looking into the mirror, and noticing how glazed your eyes looked and how unsteady on your feet you felt. You hadn’t seen Rafe all night, which you were very happy about, but his absence was still weighing heavily on you.

You didn’t like not knowing where he was. It made you nervous.

You dried your hands off with a towel and opened the door to come face to face with Rafe.

Startled, you shrunk away from him instinctively, your shock at seeing him had you unable to speak.

He stared down at you, eyes revealing nothing as he drank you in. Rafe was thrilled to be so close to you again. Close enough he could see the rising and falling of your chest as you anxiously looked down the hall past him.

His voice was barely audible, whispering, “I miss you.”

Your heart stung, the feelings still deep in your heart stirring again. You knew that he had hurt you so much, you knew that nothing good ever came from being with him.

You met his eyes, and you knew in the pit of your gut that you were going to end up in his arms that night.

This didn’t stop you from letting him put his hands all over you, pulling you from the doorway into his room and pushing your back towards the bed.

You sighed into his mouth as he climbed on top of you, tugging at your shirt and lightly pulling your hair.

Rafe breathed in your scent, never wanting you to leave his arms again. He kissed you hard, tilting your head back to deepen it when you allowed his tongue to probe into your mouth.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, slowly rolling your hips against him, the layers of clothes covering you both frustratingly getting in the way. You felt him getting harder as you pressed to him, and you felt nervously excited to be with Rafe again, the familiar spark in between your thighs reminded you of how much your body missed him.

Rafe removed his shirt, and yours was close to follow, along with your bra. He peppered kisses all over your tits, cupping them and looking into your eyes as his tongue flicked against a hardened bud. You felt like you were melting into his touch. He traced his fingers to your hips, curling one finger around the material covering you before he pulled your panties down, tossing them somewhere in his room.

Rafe pulled away to pull off his shorts and boxers, making himself bare to you. The strong blond pinned your wrists down with one hand and bringing the other to your entrance.

You hissed out a breath when you felt Rafe push one finger into you, arching your back and rolling your hips against his touch.

Rafe groaned at the sight, barely able to hold himself back from just fucking you already. But he needed to stretch you out first.

You whined as Rafe added a second finger, his thumb also now drawing circles on your clit, making your brain short circuit. You bit your lip to quiet yourself, hooded eyes meeting Rafe’s for a moment before his gaze turned back to watching himself fuck you slowly with his fingers. You were so wet, clinging to him and making a mess on his fingers.

Rafe knew how much he needed you. He didn’t think there was any other way to prove how much he needed you.

Your gasps and moans were pushing Rafe on. He knew that what was coming next was going to be so worth it, on every level. He was going to feel you clenching on every single inch of his cock, squeezing him in a way you never had before.

“Rafe, please,” you begged breathlessly. “Please just fuck me. I need it.”

Rafe was more than happy to oblige, pressing his mouth to yours as he pulled his fingers out of you to stroke his cock.

You gasped loudly against his mouth when he pushed the tip into you. Rafe pulled one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he sunk into you slowly. Your head lolled back against the pillow when he bottomed out, and you tried to catch your breath before he began to slowly rock his hips.

His eyes never left yours, relishing the way they rolled back when he thrust into you harder, or how you looked at him with surprise when his cock brushed a spot that had you seeing stars.

You had never thought you would find yourself in this position again, but there you were, drunk off your ass and in bed with the ex you knew would never change. And the worst thing was that you loved it. You loved the way he fucked you, how he made you feel when he whispered how good you felt, the way he could make you cum around his cock even when you were pissed off at him.

Rafe couldn’t believe how tight you felt around him, fucking you raw was so addictive he was afraid he would never be able to stop. One of his hands found your throat, and when you looked up at him from under your lashes, he squeezed harder, and the moan that left your lips had Rafe almost ready to marry you on the spot.

You were so overstimulated and you couldn’t hold yourself back from being flung over the edge, closing your eyes and whining as Rafe fucked you through your orgasm. You were milking his cock, walls pulsing around him as he spilled his seed deep in you.

You were breathing heavy, and the overstimulation of him continuing to slowly snap his hips against yours made you come a second time. He could feel you clenching harder around him.

“Fuuuck, Y/N. Just keep taking my cum, pretty girl. You look so hot with it leaking out of you.”

You lazily blinked your eyes, his words not registering at first as you met his gaze with a questioning look.

“Rafe..?”

He was still between your legs, his hard cock buried deep in you.

“R-Rafe?” You suddenly remembered the unused condom in your purse, and a wave of terror and nausea washed over you.

Rafe smirked at the panicked look on your face, “shhh, don’t worry, Y/N. I’ve planned it all out.”

“What do you mea-”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, holding you down as you struggled against him. His cock twitched inside you as you fought back, and he pushed you back down by your shoulders and held you in place.

“Don’t you get it?” You hated how Rafe sounded so pleased with himself, thrilled that his plan worked. “We get to pick up right where we left off. And this time, there’s no way I’m letting you go.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron dubcon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #desperate measures

[desperatemeasures-if]

✶ DEMO (TBA) ✶

It's always the picture-perfect days that end the shittiest...

You had finally been having a good day after a horrible week-- nice weather, good company, and you got your manager off your ass-- but you should have known that was only the calm before the storm. A storm that completely rips apart not only your life but that of your family-- not the ones related by blood, you had given up on them long ago, but the people that had taken you in and given you a home. The Vipers, the most reputable gang in the Northside of Riverwood, and the only family you had left.

The boss is dead... We have no leads.

A single message had completely turned your life on its head. The man that had singlehandedly saved you from yourself, from ending up face down in a gutter, was dead. You don't hesitate in volunteering to help hunt down his killer-- not if it meant protecting your family and avenging his death. Even if it means calling on your biggest rivals for help or getting assisted by an over-eager detective.

Desperate times called for desperate measures...

Desperate Measures is rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, drug and alcohol use, violence, intense interrogations, blood, questionable behavior, and more.

✶ Features ✶ Character Intros (WIP) ✶

Customize your MC: appearance, parts of your personality, segments of your background, hobbies, vices, and more! Do you have what it takes to avenge the death of your mentor? Do you have a nickname that's specific to the Vipers?

While you're investigating make sure you maintain contact with your gang, and don't forget that you have a job. Even if it is just at a shitty cafe.

Romance is definitely something that is offered and will bring insightful moments to characters that may otherwise remain an enigma to you. Or, of course, you can strike up a friendship with them!

Find a killer and either take justice into your own hands, allow someone else to do it, or follow the law!

✶ The ROs ✶

Heather Grant ✶ She/Her ✶ 29 ✶

The Heiress of Riverwood Royalty, the Grant Family, and one of the only people that could offer assistance with the investigation-- with her limitless amount of resources and the fact that the Grant Family seemed to own all of Riverwood. The only problem? She absolutely hates the Vipers. Will you be able to come to some sort of middle ground?

Special Aspects: Enemies-to-Lovers, but will you be able even to blame her for her hatred in the end?

Damien Frost ✶ He/Him ✶ 29 ✶

A recently promoted detective within the RPD. A man that's been assigned the case, either out of pity or malevolence, you aren't quite sure, but Detective Frost isn't one to give up, even when all the odds seem to be stacked against him. In fact, he seems to have a penchant to appear wherever you are, and he doesn't seem to mind at all that he's working alongside criminals. He simply wants to get the crime solved. Is it only because he wishes to prove himself? Or is it something more?

Special Aspects: Law Enforcement Officer with a Gangster... Need I say more?

Stephen/Stephanie Matthews ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 27 ✶

Stephen/Stephanie, or simply Stevie, is someone you know you can count on no matter what. They'd as easily offer you their last beer as they would knife someone in the gut to protect you. Your best friend since you joined the Vipers, being the one that had trained you after your initiation, it's no surprise that they join you on the hunt for the killer.

Special Aspects: Best Friends to Lovers

Gabriel/Gabriella DeLuca ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 28 ✶

The other half of your motley crew within the Vipers. Gabby is known for a multitude of things within the Northside, being a jack of all trades when it comes to their skills, but their true trademark is the sea of broken hearts they've left in their wake. With a disarming smile and devil-may-care attitude, it isn't hard to understand how someone could be pulled into their axis. It's just escaping it unscathed that's the challenge.

Special Aspects: Have the option to be friends with benefits, or simply friends, and see how that could influence the possible romance to come.

Leon/Lena Prince ✶ He/Him or She/Her ✶ 28 ✶

The one person you wouldn't wish to run into within Riverwood-- having completely destroyed your relationship with them; possibly breaking their heart in the process. You haven't heard much about them since you left the Southside, but learning about them taking over the rival gang of the Vipers? Your week just couldn't get any better, could it?

Special Aspects: Exes-to-Rivals-to-Friends-to-Lovers (once more). Will you be able to build back the trust you lost?

#desperate measures #interactive fiction #interactive game #choice script #cog game #hosted game #dashingdon #if wip #no demo

[insertsomthinawesome]

WHUMPTOBER 2022 - DAY 14 - Desperate Measures

We don’t actually know exactly to what extent ‘Laugh With Me’ is capable of controlling a person, so this is entirely speculative SDLFIHGDF But like, what if Ruggie had to use it to keep Leona breathing?

-NO ROMANCE INCLUDED-  

#Whumptober2022 #No.14 #Desperate Measures #Twisted Wonderland #Digital art #Blood #injury #tears #fear #Whumptober #twst #Ruggie Bucchi #Leona Kingscholar #twst ruggie #twst leona #isa's fanart #insertsomthinawesome #Decemeber2022

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Favorite Buddie Moments Per Episode: 5x3 Desperate Measures

#buddie moments #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 on fox #911 on abc #oliver stark #ryan guzman #gif #gifs #gifset #5x3 #desperate measures #love #subtle as hell

[awkward-sultana]

"According to the criterion of stipend, the haseki, or favorite concubine, enjoyed the greatest status in the imperial harem after the valide sultan. The haseki, a slave concubine and no blood relation to the reigning sultan, ranked higher than the sultan's own sisters and aunts, the princesses of the dynasty." - The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire by Leslie P. Peirce

#Muhteşem Yüzyıl #Magnificent Century #mcedit #weloveperioddrama #perioddramaedit #period drama #perioddrama #historical drama #Muhtesem Yuzyil #MC Haseki AU #Hurrem Sultan #Hatice Sultan #Sah Sultan #Beyhan Sultan #Fatma Sultan #Mahidevran Sultan #Huge Disappointment #The Unjust Orders #Desperate Measures #The Years Pass #The Three Hour Battle #Death in the Hammam #ottoman history #history #New Shocks #Declaration of War #How Dare He? #A Feast in a Time of Mourning #I Will Rule the World #Unexpected Blow

[breezy-cheezy]

Whumptober Day 14: DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN 

Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

Another Twisted Wonderland one.....love the overblots, wanted to do a symbolic take on the Tweels landing the last hit to drag Azul out of it :>

#my art #twst #twisted wonderland #whumptober #whumptober 2022 #day 14 #desperate measures #Floyd leech #Jade Leech #azul ashengrotto #tweels #overblot #drowning #magic #I decided to draw Azul's dorm outfit and ONE you can barely see it and TWO #those layers killed me LOL #still LOTS of fun coloring the tweels #mermen #mermaids #moray eels #eel mermaids #I know morays don't have scales but consider #-slaps on more freckly textures- #may have gone a bit ham...... #everything is so out of order in this challenge aaaaaa #this Azul is boring we want the real Azul back #the one we followed for his talent and drive and passion #we don't respect this one -BONKS- #I love them #book 3

[omgiamwish]

Whumptober 2022 Day 14 - Desperate Measures

(what a way to figure out that you don’t need your weapons to use your powers)

#whumptober2022 #no.14 #desperate measures #rottmnt #art #blood #injury #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #leonardo #michelangelo #rottmnt big mama #battle nexus #fan art #artists on tumblr

[blaiddraws]

Whumptober day 14: Desperate measures

figuring out how to Worm definitely had a bit of a learning curve. all the physical food he could find to eat could barely nourish him and he was. kinda sorta starving himself for a while. and he KNEW, deep down, there were. other forms of nourishment for him. but also that's kinda horrifying for a guy who was human.

but eventually there's a. Bad Situation. with Bad People. he jumps in to help and things get. a little out of hand. maybe there's more fight/resistance than he thought, maybe he was weaker than he thought he was, but his hunger and instincts take over.

#whumptober2022 #no.14 #desperate measures #ghost worm au #ingo #submas au #pokemon #submas #ghost worm ingo #etc etc etc. all the organizational tags #anyway. the horror he felt afterwards <3

[ghost-party]

Previous || Masterlist || Next || AO3

Pairings: Sosuke Aizen x F!Reader, Kisuke Urahara x F!Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: transactional relationship, sugar daddy arrangement, age difference, power imbalance, possessiveness, marking, collars, choking, oral sex (male receiving), teasing joke about pet play, alcohol, drunken behavior, tipsy reader, smoking, intimidation, manipulation

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write, mostly because I've been looking forward to Kisuke's introduction. 😁 IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT!

“We’ve been invited to a Halloween party.”

You roll over onto your side, the sheets tangling around your legs as you look up at Sosuke. It’s a Sunday morning in late October, and the two of you have opted for indulgent laziness, lingering in bed long after waking.

He’s still reading his book, turning the page with a small flick of the wrist. “It’s an annual masquerade,” he explains. “Black tie.”

“Sounds like it could be fun,” you venture, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling yourself closer to him. As you rest your head on his hip, you can feel his body relax, as if your nearness calms him.

Reaching down, he slowly strokes your hair, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yes. And admittedly… I’d like to show you off.”

His eagerness to have you on his arm never fails to flatter you. Turning onto your back, you prop your head on his thigh and stare up at him, admiring his profile as he turns to take a sip of coffee.

“You said it’s annual. Do you go every year?”

At that, Sosuke’s expression changes. He frowns and sets his mug aside, his gaze almost distracted as he glances down at you.

“No. The host is… an old friend.” The smile he attempts better resembles a grimace. “We have something of a complicated history.”

Feeling both concerned and curious, you reach up, gently prying his book from his hands and setting it aside. “We don’t have to go.”

But even as you say it, you begin to connect what all he’s told you, and a look of understanding crosses your face.

“Is that why you want to show me off?”

To his credit, Sosuke makes no attempt to deny it. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, the possessive glint in his eyes by now familiar.

“Can you really blame me?”

He gives your hair a tug, enough to make you arch your neck. As he traces the marks he’s left there, he murmurs, “I’ve always taken a perverse pleasure in seeing others covet what’s mine.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you relish his touch, the lazy slowness of his fingertips gliding across your skin. “What makes you think he will?”

He falls silent for a long moment before quietly answering, “He and I are more alike than either of us would care to admit.”

With that, it seems your morning interlude has ended. Sosuke begins to shift beneath you, prompting you to sit up. When he disappears into the bathroom, headed for his closet, you collect the clothes you tossed over a nearby chair the night before. You perch at the end of the bed and wait for him, hugging your oversized turtleneck around yourself.

Normally, the two of you would spend the day together. But he informed you last night that he has lunch reservations with Gin and Kaname, followed by fencing practice. He’s increased his time at the club as of late, preparing for an upcoming tournament he plans to enter.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” he says, walking back into the bedroom. He’s chosen a midnight blue sweater with a collared shirt underneath, his pants neatly pressed. Although he’s wearing his glasses, you know his contacts are tucked away in the fencing bag slung over his shoulder.

“That’s kind of you, but I should head home.”

In truth, you suspect it would feel strange, inhabiting his space while he’s not around. If he were truly your boyfriend, maybe you would feel differently. But regardless, it’s been several days since you’ve been able to spend quality time in your apartment. You can catch up on laundry and handle other “life admin” tasks, as Rangiku so trendily calls them.

Sosuke walks you out, an easy quiet stretching between you until you reach the sidewalk in front of his building. His driver is already parked and waiting to take you home, while Gin’s now-familiar Porsche Panamera idles right behind it.

You can see the man in question sitting behind the wheel, smiling — always smiling. When he waves, stretching his arm out the window, you manage a half-hearted one in return.

Your attention is dragged away when Sosuke’s thumb and forefinger tip your chin up, prompting you to look at him. 

“Later this week, we’ll go shopping.”

The softness of his voice tells you he’s interpreted your discomfort as disappointment, assuming that you’re feeling reluctant to let him leave. “We’ll find something perfect for the party.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, allowing his nearness to calm you, just as yours does him. “Okay.”

“Ah… I almost forgot.”

Hefting the fencing bag a little higher on his broad shoulder, he reaches into his back pocket, retrieving his wallet. “I left my checkbook upstairs, but I have cash.”

It feels as if your stomach is twisting in on itself. Of course. He needs to pay you.

Because that’s all part of the arrangement, isn’t it? It’s easier to accept his checks and deposit them using your phone, the process so quick, you barely have to think about it. But having crisp bills pressed into your palm in broad daylight, in the middle of a sidewalk in one of the wealthier parts of the city… It feels wrong, like you should be embarrassed or ashamed.

He doesn’t seem to notice your shift in mood, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning and walking away. Mechanically, you force yourself to slide into the backseat of his hired car, the driver already well aware of your destination. 

You know the only way things will ever change is if you talk to Sosuke. He’s always valued your honesty, the way you speak your mind around him, seemingly without hesitation.

This, however, is different. As you sit cross-legged on your couch that afternoon, folding a load of freshly-washed towels and barely paying attention to the midday news, you realize you’re afraid he’ll say no.

Maybe he likes things exactly the way they are now. He did tell you he doesn’t do committed relationships. But aren’t the two of you already committed, even in some capacity? Would it really change things that much to alter the terms of your arrangement and pursue something more emotionally satisfying?

Your gaze lingers on the stack of cash sitting at the corner of your coffee table — ten hundred-dollar bills — before your attention is drawn to the television.

They’re playing footage from a joint press conference held by the police department and the district attorney’s office. Having attended several of Rangiku’s work Christmas parties at her insistence, you recognize the DA, Jushiro Ukitake.

Despite his long white hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, you estimate he can’t be any older than 45. A soft-spoken man in private settings, he carries himself with stern professionalism when needed. And at this moment, it’s clear that he’s commanding attention with ease.

Standing beside him is another familiar figure, his hair just as white, though his gaze is hard and piercing rather than warm. Toshiro Hitsugaya, Rangiku’s boss and one of Ukitake’s ADAs. From what you’ve heard, he plans to run for district attorney in the next election, and Ukitake will give him his full endorsement.

Things seem to be wrapping up, with reporters still attempting to ask questions, even as both men join the police commissioner and exit the conference room. But the scrolling headline stretched across the bottom of the screen tells you everything you need to know.

ANNOUNCEMENT OF SPECIAL TASK FORCE, UKITAKE CRACKS DOWN ON ORGANIZED CRIME

This must be why Rangiku’s been so busy lately. You send her a text, asking if she wants to meet up later for drinks. Not expecting to hear back anytime soon, you busy yourself with putting laundry away and checking to see if there’s a yoga class you can drop in on.

You’re feeling restless, and you can’t exactly figure out why. Something about the news broadcast needles at you, like a thought that’s not fully formed, something half-conceived and impossible to articulate.

But you find yourself feeling more at ease when you check your phone, your other hand clumsily reaching for the yoga mat tucked away in the back of your closet, and see a photo from Sosuke.

He’s dressed all in white, his fencing jacket pristine, mask tucked under his arm. You can tell he’s fencing épée today rather than sabre, since he’s not wearing his lamé. Although you still consider yourself a fencing novice, listening to him speak about it at length has left you with working knowledge of the different weapons and their requisite equipment.

As you knew he would, he’s swapped his glasses for contacts, leaving his handsome face unobscured as he smiles into the mirror. While you’ve never been able to take a decent selfie that way, he looks like a model with his hair pushed back, his soft brown eyes seeming brighter under the fluorescents of the changing room.

I miss you. Dinner tonight?

You’re a little surprised, but at the same time, warmth blooms in your chest at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. 

A small part of you considers saying no and making him wait, exerting a little control. It’s not that you mind following Sosuke’s lead. More often than not, you’re happy to do so. But there’s a certain devious pleasure that comes from keeping him on his toes, and you suspect he enjoys playing the game.

That being said, after having to give up your time together earlier today, you can’t deny that you’re eager to see him. It is, at times, an uncomfortable truth: You’re greedy when it comes to him, his affection, his attention. He’s given you enough to make you crave more and more. 

Checking your inbox, you see that Rangiku still hasn’t responded. Even if she does and says she’s free, she’ll understand. She’s the one who’s encouraged you these past few months, after all. You feel reassured and excited as you type out a reply.

I’d love that. 😊

•••

Although you trusted Sosuke to help you choose an outfit that fit the requirements of the party, you’re beginning to wonder if it’s too much.

Much like the dress he selected for your outing to The Dark Room, this one skims along your body like a second skin, more structured in the bodice but flowing around your legs, aided by a rather scandalous slit. Paired with sheer, black thigh-high stockings and glossy black pumps, it makes you feel like a different person.

But the accessory that still has your face feeling hot, even as the car nears your destination, is a leather collar fastened around your neck.

When Sosuke came up behind you while you looked at yourself in the mirror, you glimpsed his smile first, the curl of his lips verging on wicked.

“I have something for you.”

Your own lips parted in surprise as he reached around you, guiding the soft, black leather around your throat. Once it was clasped at the back, you lifted your hand and gently touched it, tracing over the small, golden studs… and the small bell hanging perfectly in the center.

You weren’t entirely shocked. In the weeks since your first foray into more adventurous activities, Sosuke had you wear a collar several times. On an especially memorable occasion, he kept his fingers hooked around it, pulling it tight against your neck as you sucked his cock, all while he took a late-night work call.

But you hadn’t expected to be wearing one tonight.

“I thought it would be fitting,” he explained, reaching down and lifting your half-mask from the bathroom countertop.

Made of delicate black fabric with lace and gold lining, it curved up into two cat ears, a subtle touch. Sosuke’s mask, meanwhile, glinted with silver, its contours carved into the likeness of a wolf. 

“You really think of everything, don’t you?” you teased, your fingers still tracing along the leather.

“For purely selfish reasons,” he said, his large hands settling on your hips as he bent down. He gazed at the two of you in the mirror, looking pleased and prideful. “I wanted to see it on you. Now that I have, I’m inclined to never let you take it off.”

You kept your eyes on his reflection, even as you tilted your head and allowed your lips to brush against his neck as you asked, “What, do you want to keep me as your pet?”

A delicious darkness crept into his expression as his smile widened just a bit. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

Now, he reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze as the car passes through a set of wrought iron gates. You shoot him a grateful glance before your attention is diverted, the house ahead of you seeming to emerge from the surrounding trees.

Perhaps because of the sleek modernity of Sosuke’s apartment, you had expected a similar structure, a sprawling compound made of metal and glass. Instead, it’s a large, old house, well-maintained but by your guess, built at least a century ago.

As the car joins the line snaking around the circular drive, you continue to look. There are windows of all sizes, some with curtains drawn, while others glow with warm light. The black paint has begun to peel in places, only adding to the gothic feel of the manor, with its peaked roof, heavy stonework, and numerous arches.

“What do you think?” Sosuke asks, his tone mild and difficult to read. Even when you turn to look at him, his expression is frustratingly placid.

“It’s a little strange,” you admit, withholding the fact that you like that it has a distinct personality.

It becomes even more noticeable when the car finally stops and Sosuke comes to your door, taking your hand and helping you step out onto the paved path. To the right of the house is a small greenhouse, and even in the fading light, you can see that it’s nearly full to bursting with plant life. To the left is a separate building that resembles a barn, though more modular in shape. 

“Our host is an eclectic man,” Sosuke explains as you follow a few other couples inside.

His assessment is only confirmed as you wind your way through the house, taking notice of mismatched rugs, bookshelves that look ready to buckle, random sketches and unintelligible notes tacked to the walls in places.

Your fellow guests seem entertained by the chaos and clutter, almost as if it’s decorative — a mad scientist’s lair or an occultist’s abode. But something tells you none of it’s affected. Maybe it’s the abandoned, half-full cups of coffee, or the occasional singes in the wallpaper.

You half expect the ballroom to be in a similar state. And yet, it’s a gleaming gem in the midst of a labyrinth of oddities.

Golden chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, and wide windows overlook the edge of the forest. You feel less self-conscious about your outfit as you look at the other guests, the lushness of fabrics, the extravagance of silk and velvet, the sparkle of embellishments.

A string quartet plays in the far corner, and buffet tables line the walls, laden with an expansive spread of appetizers, desserts, and drinks. An enormous punch bowl catches your eye, and you watch as a petite young woman with green hair pours herself a cup, sloshing it down the sides. With a huff, the burly man beside her steers her away, shaking his head in apparent exasperation.

Sosuke’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back. You’ve both slipped on your masks, and as you look up at him, the wolf’s profile strikes you, glimpses of sharp teeth visible along its jaws.

“I see a few familiar faces.”

“How can you tell?” You’re only half-teasing, genuinely wondering how he can pick out anyone in the crowd based on the lower half of their face alone.

He simply smiles and leads you towards a group of people who turn out to be new coworkers, employed by a company that his own recently acquired. The tension is thick, but Sosuke navigates it with enviable ease, parrying clumsy attempts at passive aggression with amused disdain.

The two of you move around the room, sipping champagne and tasting hors d'oeuvres whisked around on platters carried by masked waitstaff. You make polite conversation with senior executives and socialites, people who wouldn’t give you a second glance if they passed you on the street. 

Many of them fawn over Sosuke, recalling a luncheon they both attended or a conference at which he spoke. They shower him with compliments, seemingly in an effort to gain his favor. But when someone goes too far, entering his personal space or outright ignoring your presence, he responds with an iciness that makes them physically recoil.

As the night wears on, you notice a shift. Voices are growing louder as guests continue to imbibe. Ties are loosened, shawls and jackets are thrown over chairs, and masks grow crooked as movements become drunkenly inelegant. You notice couples exiting the room, looking for a private place to indulge. The music swells into something more passionate, or perhaps that’s just how it seems.

You’re feeling tipsy, light on your feet as you hover near the edge of the dance floor, watching your wolf stalk his latest prey. With an apology, Sosuke slipped away to speak with a friend of a friend who just so happens to have connections with a rival corporation.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. But it feels like it’s been so long since he left you here, trying not to sway in your heels as you people-watch.

You’re draining the dregs of your fourth glass of champagne when you feel someone’s presence beside you. Turning to look, you nearly step back.

Rather than a half mask, this man wears a full mask, white and skull-like in its visage. Its teeth are bared in a grimace, deep ridges lining both cheeks. On either side of it, you can see straight blond hair cut in a straight line that sweeps just above the stranger’s chin, or where you suspect his chin is.

“H-hello,” you stammer, betraying how startled you are.

His laugh is muffled as he lifts his hand and removes the bone-white face, revealing a wide, toothy grin. “Scared ya, huh? You looked like you could use some company.”

You don’t want to assume he’s flirting with you, though it’s difficult to tell from his expression, along with his close proximity. Your eyes flit down to his clothes, a matching black jacket and slacks paired with a dark orange shirt. 

When you don’t answer, he drawls, “Then again, if you’re bored, maybe you should check out the library upstairs.”

Your brow furrows a little. “I don’t know if that’s allowed…”

His grin widens. “Trust me, our esteemed host won’t care. Hell, he’s not even here.” He gestures around the ballroom, and for the first time, you realize he’s right. 

You’ve met countless people, endured tedious conversations, and played the part of Sosuke’s arm candy with practiced patience. And yet, you would remember being introduced to the “eccentric” founder of this increasingly-debaucherous feast.

Before you can come up with a response, your mind feeling fuzzy thanks to the expensive champagne, the stranger winks and dons his mask, shoving his hands in his pockets before vanishing into the crowd.

You look around, trying to spot Sosuke. But it’s no use. Maybe he took his business to a quieter room. The more the idea sits with you, the better it sounds, to escape for a few minutes and savor the reprieve before returning to find him. If I run into him on my way there or back, even better.

The air immediately feels cooler when you exit the ballroom, your heels thudding on the hardwood floor. A few turns lead you to a spiral staircase, and, remembering the stranger’s words, you hike your dress up and climb to the second floor, every creak seeming louder in the newfound silence.

Removed from the incessant noise, you sigh with relief, walking slowly as you glance into the open rooms on either side of the hall. One reminds you of a laboratory, wall-mounted shelves laden with vials of various liquids. Another is a simple bedroom, the covers messy, a rumpled red tracksuit left on the floor next to a baseball cap.

The library, however, is unmistakable, a large space full of wooden shelves overflowing with leather-bound volumes and paperbacks of all sizes. There are even stacks of books on the floor, heavy tomes layered in dust. The air feels thick with quiet, settling around you like a blanket. When you draw in a breath, you smell leather, something earthy, and a faint hint of sweetness.

You slowly walk down the center of the room, noticing that each section features a label, written in the same haphazard scrawl as many of the notes you saw downstairs. Feeling a breeze, you give in to your curiosity and seek it out, finding a small reading area at the far end of the room. It’s furnished with old armchairs, a threadbare sofa, and a window seat.

The latter is where you find a man sprawled out, his long legs crossed at the ankles. The open window is right beside him, the cool night air ruffling his sandy hair. A thin haze of smoke hangs around him, a pipe lying forgotten on the wooden sill. When he turns to look at you, you see that his cheeks are lightly stubbled, his bangs long enough to hang over his eyes.

“Hey there, kitty.”

His voice has a subtle roughness to it, though it’s not as deep as Sosuke’s. Amusement curls around each word, and his smile seems genuine and relaxed, almost as if he’d been expecting you.

“Trying to escape?” he asks.

You shake your head, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be wandering around.”

The man tilts his head, resting it against the window jamb. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

You can’t explain why you’re so certain of it, but you reply, “Because you’re the owner of this house.”

He looks pleased by your deduction. “Very astute.” With a little groan, as if he hasn’t moved in a long while, he folds his legs beneath him. “Care to join me?”

Initially, you’re hesitant. What if Sosuke is looking for you? You don’t want to be gone too long. But it would be rude to decline your host’s offer. And besides, you’re undeniably curious about him.

“The host is… an old friend. We have something of a complicated history.”

Hoping to learn more about what Sosuke was referring to, you nod and take a seat, carefully arranging your dress so that its high slit doesn’t shift and reveal too much. Even so, it isn’t exactly comfortable, the boning of the corset pressing against your ribs. Around your throat, the collar feels suddenly heavy.

The man extends his hand, and you readily take it.

“Kisuke Urahara, awful host and notorious layabout.”

Your lips curl into a small smile as you tell him your name. “That first part might be true, but I somehow doubt the second. It was hard not to notice everything downstairs.”

“My perpetual mess?” 

Kisuke rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, and for the first time, you realize he’s not even dressed for a party. His dark green henley is wrinkled, and he’s wearing loose cotton pants that resemble pajamas. Seeming unbothered by the chill, his feet are bare, and he rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

“People are always telling me to get a housekeeper. But I’d never put someone through the agony.”

Recalling some of the more complex notes, quickly-scrawled equations and what looked like sketches of molecular structures, you ask, “Are you a scientist?”

Kisuke hums. “Sort of? I like to tinker. I have what they call a restless mind.”

Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees, hands falling into his lap as he fixes you with a bemused stare. “It feels like you’re asking all the questions here. Is this an interrogation?”

“Aren’t cats curious by nature?” you easily counter, scooting further back onto the seat so that you can fully turn and face him.

“Until it kills them.”

There’s no threat in the way he says it, his tone light and playful. But even so, it makes you briefly hesitant, at least until the liquid courage of the champagne reminds you why you’re here.

“Do you know Sosuke Aizen?”

To your dismay, Kisuke’s expression betrays nothing, that same lazy smile stretched across his face. “Yeah, I do. We went to school together — even roomed together during grad school, in this shitty little apartment off campus.”

It’s jarring to imagine Sosuke, always so immaculate in how he presents himself, living in a place even smaller than yours, surviving on cheap ramen and all the other poor-college-student staples.

Seeming to read your mind, Kisuke says, “That was a long time ago. I doubt he enjoys reminiscing about it.”

Deciding to jump at the opening, you tell him, “He said the two of you have a ‘complicated history.’”

That earns you a reaction, albeit a small one. His mouth twitches slightly, and his green eyes narrow just a little. “Oh yeah?”

“What did he mean by that?”

In hindsight, you could have been more subtle — eased him into the conversation, asked some bland questions to throw him off, tried to prompt him to give you answers without directly seeking them out.

But Kisuke Urahara is far from stupid. What little you’ve seen of his “tinkering” tells you that much, as does his former friendship with someone like Sosuke.

“I’m surprised you’re asking me instead of him. You’re rather close, after all…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he reaches out and uses his forefinger to flick the tiny bell hanging just above the notch at the base of your throat. It jingles softly.

“You might be wondering why I throw this party every year but never make a point of showing up,” he says, changing the subject with ease. “I’m less interested in socializing than I am in taking advantage of my guests’ loose lips.”

When your brow furrows, he continues, “It’s a perfect opportunity to collect information.”

“You mean blackmail.”

He shrugs. “It’s only blackmail if you use the threat of its release to your advantage. I’m simply a collector.” 

He lifts his hand again, this time using the lightest touch to trace the outline of one of your mask’s pointed ears. “Curious, even.”

“Some might say devious,” you counter.

Kisuke chuckles. “You’re one to talk, with the company you keep.”

Your reply goes unspoken as you watch his expression change, suddenly growing serious. Leaning forward even more, his voice drops to a low murmur.

“Be careful.”

“Why should she be?”

You quickly turn and see that Gin is leaning against the nearest bookshelf, his thin smile wide.

A mask carelessly hangs from one finger, its pale green scales glinting in the sparse light cast by nearby lamps. His silver suit matches his hair, though it contrasts with the black shirt he wears underneath.

Kisuke sits back, the picture of leisure as he turns his lazy smile towards Gin.

“The punch has a tendency of getting more lethal as the night goes on. One of the hazards of a good party.”

“Quite an assumption for a man who can never be bothered to attend.” Looking at you, his gaze narrowed, Gin says, “Sosuke’s been looking for you.”

The words almost slither under your skin, the implied questions enough to make you worry.

Why did you leave?

Where have you been?

What are you doing with Kisuke Urahara?

You stand up so fast, you wobble a little on your heels, and you feel something warm settle on your lower back — Kisuke’s hand, fingers splayed, palm flattened against the gentle curve of your body.

“Easy there, kitty,” he murmurs, and when you glance back at him, you see that his bangs have fallen back over his face, his green eyes bright with something you can’t quite name.

“So considerate.” Gin’s tone is mock surprised as you step away from Kisuke and slowly walk towards him. “Have you always been this kind?”

Kisuke shrugs and picks up his pipe, stretching his legs out once more. “What can I say? I’ve always had a soft spot for cats.”

Gin is silent as he leads you out of the library and back downstairs, his gait relaxed. It’s only when the two of you reach the staircase landing that he abruptly turns, taking a step towards you. You instinctively move back, pressing yourself against the wall.

“Let me give you some advice,” he says, cheerful as ever, even as he leans in closer, casting deep shadows around you.

“Stay away from Kisuke Urahara.”

You blink up at him, tongue-tied for a moment before you finally ask, “Why?”

The twist of Gin’s mouth makes fear spike low in your gut. “Because Sosuke doesn’t like sharing. Especially not with him.”

“I wasn’t —”

“Is there a problem?”

When Gin turns to look down the stairs, he moves just enough to clear your line of sight. Arms crossed, the masked stranger from earlier stands with one foot on the bottom step. His face is bare, mouth curved into a pronounced scowl.

Beside him is a man you saw earlier tonight, dragging a pouting girl away from the punch. His muscles strain the sleeves of his dark blue jacket, and his white hair is cut into a shaggy mohawk.

“Not at all,” Gin answers, spreading his hands in an innocent gesture. “We were just having a private conversation. Is that not allowed?”

“You’re an awful liar, Ichimaru.”

Gin offers you his arm, and you numbly take it, too shocked to do anything else. As the two of you descend the stairs, he airily replies, “What an ugly accusation, to say that I’m lying.”

When you reach the bottom, the rangy blond steps back, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and Gin.

“Besides, even if I were lying,” your companion drawls, tilting his head in a condescending manner, “I’d be superb at it.”

The taller of the two men opposite you jerks his thumb in the direction of the front door. “Better get moving. Your owner doesn’t strike me as the type to put much slack in your leash.”

Gin ignores the obvious bait and steers you away, his expression unchanged despite the confrontation.

“Who are they? Those men?”

You half expect him not to answer. But instead, he says, “Friends of Kisuke. Unpleasant, aren’t they?” He leads you through the living room and into the entryway. “Kaname always criticizes my manners, but at least I make an attempt…”

As he reaches for the door, a breath away from opening it, his voice lowers to a murmur.

“Don’t forget my advice. I’m sure you’ve figured out that Sosuke’s a possessive man.”

He turns to meet your gaze, and the fear you felt before responds in kind, a cold dread settling over you.

“And I suspect he has no intention of letting you go.”

#desperate measures #bleach #sosuke aizen #aizen x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen sosuke #aizen sosuke x reader #kisuke urahara #urahara x reader #kisuke urahara x reader #urahara kisuke #urahara kisuke x reader #tw sugar daddy #tw age difference #tw power imbalance

[cloudburst-ink]

please enjoy this deleted moment from many chapters ago, because i was looking through my cuts for something else and it made me giggle 😌

#wip #desperate measures

[dark-fics-4-you]

Desperate Measures ch. III

Warnings: noncon, smut, forced pregnancy, gaslighting, abusive relationship

Note: this chapter is kinda short, and it’s basically just smut so enjoy

Gazing up at the ceiling in a daze, you were brought back to the moment when Rafe snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Still in there, princess?”

Your eyes blurred with more tears, a strange thing, you thought. You didn’t think you had any more energy to cry, but your body was proving you wrong once again.

You blinked the tears away before meeting Rafe’s gaze, you could barely hold your head up.

You flinched as he stretched his hand toward your face, brushing his fingers over the red, angry skin of your cheek where he struck you earlier. The tender gesture made you feel sick to your stomach.

“You know, this wouldn’t have to happen if you just listened to me, Y/N.” He mumbled and you whimpered when you felt him begin to slowly roll his hips against yours.

It had been hours of him rutting into you, tunnel vision so intense that by the fourth round when he pushed his cock into your sore cunt, you gave up on fighting back.

“Please no- Rafe-" your protests were swallowed when he covered your lips with his own. A hand tangled into your hair, tugging your head back to deepen the kiss.

You gasped against his mouth when he began to thrust into you faster, disgusted by the sound of his cum squelching inside of you and helping him push deeper into you.

His lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, sucking at the tender skin. “Just imagine it, Y/N,” Rafe’s raspy voice could barely containing his excitement. “A bunch of little Camerons…”

Revulsion filled your gut and you blinked your teary eyes, lip trembling as you looked past Rafe.

You tensed when you felt his fingers find your tender clit, unable to hold back your mewl. Burning shame spread across your face when Rafe chuckled.

“Are you gonna try to tell me you don’t want this again? After I’ve made you cum over and over again tonight, hmm?” The condescending bite to his voice pierced through you, doubt beginning to plant itself in your mind.

“Rafe, I don’t- I’m-!” Before you could finish the thought, his hand gripped your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and shutting you up.

The feeling of him inside you, thrusting at a dizzying tempo had your legs shaking around him. Another twitch of his fingers at your clit and your vision went dark, stars exploding behind your eyes as you squeezed around him. You could feel his fingers closing further around your throat as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s right babygirl, milk my cock,” Rafe taunted as he loomed over you. “So fucking tight when you’re all fucked out and used.”

You choked as his grip around your throat tightened and you looked up at him, panicked, with fearful eyes while your fingers grasped at the ones around your neck desperately.

“It doesn’t have to be this hard, Y/N,” he scowled, “I had to go through a lot of trouble to get you back. Really, you should be fucking grateful that someone actually cares enough about you to want to give you a better life.”

Hurt and anger burned within you. Anger at yourself for sleeping with him the night of the party and rage at Rafe for everything he had done to you since.

And everything he was planning on forcing you to do.

Your chest was tightening from the lack of oxygen, vision growing blurry around the edges and you knew you had to do something to get his hands off your neck.

Rafe let out a frustrated grunt when he felt your nails begin to claw at his hands, scratching with so much fervor you accidentally dragged them against your own tender neck, gasping for breaths when he finally released you.

“Stupid bitch!” The blond roared, staring frantically at the blood you had drawn on his hands.

His nose wrinkled, eyebrows coming together as he sneered, shaking his head and laughing at you, “You really are only good for one thing.”

You tried to protest when Rafe flipped you over onto your knees, pushing deeper into you to make sure you couldn’t get away. Your tears ran down onto the hand he had clamped over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

His hips snapped against your ass as he fucked you harder, his cock dragging agonizingly against your walls.

“Just stay fucking quiet, be a good girl, and I might let you cum again.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #desperate measures

[renegadesstuff]

From watching her dance to dancing with her 🥺❤️

#magnum pi #juliet higgins #miggy #thomas magnum #magnum and higgins #higgins and magnum #magnum x higgins #higgins x magnum #magnum pi series #magnum pi edit #magnum pi season 2 #2x12 #desperate measures #magnum pi season 5

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lark Oak/Terry Jr. Characters: Lark Oak, Terry Jr. (Dungeons and Daddies) Additional Tags: Vampire Bites, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Human/Vampire Relationship, Character Turned Into Vampire, gee I wonder if this story is about a vampire, Neck Kissing, I just like making characters smooch idk bite me, heh, basically just a little scene and you can fill in the rest of the context lol Summary:

Terry has no interest in giving in to his newfound thirst for blood. Lark is keen on getting through to him.

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

GAH OKAY I WANTED TO FINISH AT LEAST ONE THING FOR HALLOWEEN WEEK SO HERE’S AN ITTY BITTY VAMPIRE-THEMED GUNCONTROL FIC LOL

#dndads #I was hungry as fuck writing this and I think it shows lmao #lark oak #terry jr #lark oak garcia #dndads fanfiction #dndads halloween week 2023 #lark x terry #it was rushed so I'm especially nervous but also my brain is fried so less nervous?? #my fanfiction #desperate measures #I didn't have time to think of a wittier title lmao #crafted with love all the same

[deadbeatescape]

practiced making a gif on my phone, here’s a little gif of the first doctor

#doctor who #classic who #dw #the first doctor #first doctor #gif #my gif #liveposting from the house of usher #the rescue #desperate measures

[awkward-sultana]

"My condolences..."

#Muhteşem Yüzyıl #Magnificent Century #mcedit #weloveperioddrama #perioddramaedit #period drama #perioddrama #historical drama #Muhtesem Yuzyil #Mihrimah Sultan #Hatice Sultan #Desperate Measures #Grief and Sorrow #The First Victim of the Struggle #Fateful Arrow #Fatma Sultan #Beyhan Sultan #Awkward-Sultana