#Too Far Gone Fic

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Six

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut - fingering, cum play, dirty talk, maybe a slight voyeurism kink, interrupted sex, inadvertent orgasm deprivation, light degradation? I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,000

Auston didn’t know when they went to bed. The curtains had been left open and the faint glow from the moon was filtering in, but he had to make good on that promise from the roof. And even then, he wasn’t done because they were both drenched in sweat, and there is something about warm beads of water cascading over his girlfriend’s chest that always ended with Auston on his knees.

Sure, it could be considered reckless to stay up that late given they have a three-year-old who has been known to barge in before the sun broke the horizon looking for breakfast. But what was Auston supposed to do, not celebrate the fact Tia finally admitted she loved him? They had talked about getting a puppy, having more kids, getting married, they planned their future, but hearing those words roll off her tongue cemented to him that it was real. As if those four years were nothing more than a long and hazy nightmare he finally awoke from.

When Auston did wake up around 9:20, he planned on quietly crawling out of bed, finding Taylour (he knew one of his friends was keeping him entertained for the time being) and wrangling his help to make her breakfast in bed. A simple gesture, one he had been deprived of for so long. It was his plan, and it was a great plan, then he saw the faint marks on her shoulders, the marks he left, and everything changed. All reason was long gone, and his primal instinct took over. If he could keep her there all day, he would.

“Aus.”

Her nails scratch along his broad shoulder and her body arches into him. Even though she is pulsing with oversensitivity, she doesn’t know if she’s had enough, if she ever will have enough.

“Babe –“ She gasps, sharply.

“What?” He grins, moustache tickling her ear.

“We gotta to get up.” He can tell she wants there to be weight behind the words, but her body is saying something completely different. “So much to do…”

“How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re naked in our bed?” Auston murmurs thickly against her jaw.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The sheets are a mess. Pillows are on the floor. The stench of sex is heavy in the room.

“So...” His hands roam all over her body. He cups her breast, which somehow overflows in his big hands. “What’s on your list this morning?”

“Yoga.”

“Pretty sure we already did that.” Satisfaction curls on his lips.

“I want to finish up something I’ve been working on…” She trails off for a moment as he licks up her neck, tongue following the bite marks left the night before. “Have to check in with Becks…” Auston grins, the heat flaring behind her cheeks says that won’t happen anytime soon.

“What about fucking your boyfriend?” Auston’s fingers carve into the swollen flesh of her ass.

“I believe I did that already.” He moves his fingers around to her pussy lips and the inside of her thighs, and they are wet, absolutely drenched in their hot sticky mess. “That’s why we’re still in bed.”

“You should put it back on the list, maybe twice.” Auston’s mouth slowly begins to work its way down, first to her collarbone, then her breasts. As his warm tongue swirls around her sensitive nipple, her slick grazes over his member and a deep guttural groan erupts.

“Is that so?” She breathes out a laugh while tugging harshly on his curls.

“Yeah.” Two fingers once again find their way inside. Her body arks toward him and within a few seconds they begin to move. The disgusting slurp of her cunt fills the room as he thrusts them faster and faster. Her walls greedily grasp and hug his digits, never wanting to let him go. Her elbows give out and her body collapses into the bed, quickly and desperately clawing at the sheets.

Auston smirks and applies more pressure. His left hand grabs at her knee and tosses it over his shoulder, earning him a shriek from the deepest part of her diaphragm. Auston fucks his fingers back inside. Every stroke is precise, his knuckles crooked at the knuckle to create the perfect angle. “Can’t decide if I want to eat the cum out of you before I fill you back up.” Auston licks his bottom lip, his fingers massaging her g-spot. “Or if I should bury myself inside and make ya overflow…what do you think?”

“Fuck me.” Tia whispers to herself.

Auston chuckles, a little breathless. “I’m going to.” He circles his thumb around her clit, fingers rhythmically seeking her high. “You taste so good, can only dream of what we taste like together.”

Tia whimpers at the emptiness as Auston pulls his fingers out. He brings them up to her mouth, and without instruction Tia drops her jaw and wraps her lips around them. They both moan as she swirls her tongue around his digits, working to clean the mess. Quickly, he snaps his wrist and runs the saliva and cum coated fingers along her jaw. With a cocky brow raise, he shoves his tongue into her mouth.

“Better than I imagined.”

His hand moves to her hair, and she bites at her lower lip. He knows she washed her hair yesterday. He also knows she will scold him for this later. He just doesn’t care. He moves the head of his shaft down through her folds, allowing it to rest at the opening for just a second, then he buries himself deep inside her warmth.

He messily kisses her once again, taking the time to embrace the wetness that oozes out around his cock. He pulls his hips back, and right before he is about to drive back inside, her hands are on his shoulder trying to push him away.

“Stop.” Her eyes snap open, wide with fear. His brows contort with confusion, then he hears it. Little feet pattering down the hall, his playful giggle getting louder and louder with every step. They both knew they were pushing their luck going for round two, but like a moth to a flame, Auston couldn’t pull himself away.

“Taylour, come on bud, let’s go.” Fred’s voice calls, louder than normal trying to warn those on the other side.

The doorknob begins to jiggle. Tia’s breathing becomes frantic . The slow creak gets louder and louder, and Taylour’s voice enters the room. “I want to show them my trick.”

The more the door opens the more Tia’s face whitens. Auston scrambles off her and scours the floor for a shirt, pants, some piece of clothing to toss on before Taylour barrels in. But everything is everywhere, all he can find is the sheet which he tosses toward Tia.

“Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.” Fred tells him, pulling the door shut. “Why don’t we practice more, and you can show them when they wake up?”

“Because practice makes perfect,” Taylour agrees with a nod.

“Right.” Fred nods down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Auston waits a few seconds until Taylour’s feet are down the hall, then calls out, “Thanks Fred.”

“Yup,” Fred hollers through the door.

**

“I’m not sure about this.” Tia runs her finger along the strap, then smooths over her stomach.

Once they heard the footsteps fade down the hall and the stair boards creak, Auston and Tia were out of bed. Tia ran a comb through her hair while glaring at Auston for the ends that had fused together, then swiftly threw it up on the top of her head. Auston grabbed a bathing suit –because every day ends with them in the pool – and one of his t-shirts. The two of them went downstairs and Tia started making them smoothies, and Auston set out to get the avocado ready for their breakfast. After inhaling their food, Auston was outside, showing off his backflips – always a favourite with Taylour - and Tia was upstairs in her sewing room.

Once the workspace was mostly complete, she finished the couple orders that were outstanding, then set out designing a few new pieces to expand her line. She sketched out seven new pieces, three of them made it through the 3D rendering, then she began the process of cutting fabric, pinning it together and trying to bring her visions to life. One was easy, only needed a few minor tweaks but was now ready to go to the testing phase. The other two she has been stuck on. Nothing seemed to work, and Tia was about ready to scrap them both and start over, but before that she decided to reach out to the one person that might be able to help.

Celeste presses her glasses back up her nose and shuffles in her seat, as if trying to get a better view from Toronto.

“Yeah…” She hims through the speaker. “I see what you were talking about…I think the point near your underarm needs to go up a bit.” Tia turns toward the camera and lifts her arm, then points to the area she assumes Celeste is talking about. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It’s a little…” her face crinkles as she thinks over the next word.

“Aggressive?”

Celeste feigns a laugh. “That may not be the word I’d use…but yes.”

“The prototype looked so good.” Tia sighs. She thought the dress was going to be the easiest to bring to life. But when she tried the top on it sat low, dangerously low, to a point if Tia moved too much everything spilled out. Despite Auston’s objections, she added fabric to the bodice to bring the neckline up, only it came up too much. Next, she cut a bit out but then she didn’t like the neckline, it was too squared off and simple, so she tried to curve it but overcompensated as indents are being left in her skin.

“That’s why we test them out. I can’t tell you how many pieces I thought were good until I tried them on.” Celeste tries to reassure her with a faint laugh, but this part never gets easy. “It’s not that far off, dear.”

“Yeah.” Tia’s nose crinkles again, almost at her wits end with this one.

“What about the top you were working on.” Celeste steers the conversation away, hoping it has better results. “You decide on a sleeve?”

A few days ago, Tia sent Celeste a picture of a satin top with a simple square neck and subtle pleats in the bodice. The hem was unfinished and there were many pins, but what caught her attention was the two distinctly different sleeves styles. One was short and puffy, and the other was a simple and slender arm with a bell style sleeve. Tia said she was unsure of which one worked best. Celeste called it a copout, called her out to doubt herself and said she wasn’t going to help. It might have been tough, but Celeste knew she needed to make this decision on her own.

“Yay!” Celeste claps when she sees the long and flowy sleeve. This was always the right choice; she is glad Tia figured it out on her own.

“I love that one. Definitely the right pick”

“It’s playful but classic.” Tia smiles with her mentor’s reassurance.

“Completely elevates that top. Tia, I know I’ve said this before, but you have a bright future ahead of you, some people are years in the industry without the eye you have.”

“Thanks.” Tia softly laughs, a faint blush swarming her cheeks.

Now that the prototype is complete, it’s ready for Tia to make a few more and ship them back to the “testers” back in Toronto and get their feedback. Then there are the edits, photoshoots, uploading details to the website. Just when she thinks the finish line is near, she realizes just how far it is.

The two of them talked for a little while longer. Celeste told her about all the struggles she’d been facing as a store owner while in a global lockdown. Her store was forced closed, curbside pickup and online orders were slow, some days non-existent. It filled Tia with so many emotions but worry and regret were the ones she couldn’t shake. If someone who had been successful in the industry was struggling at the drop of a hat, what did it mean for her? Sales were slow, to be expected for a new line, but how long could they be slow before they stopped all together?

**

Tia put the finishing details on the shirt but left the dress on the mannequin. Normally putting it off wouldn’t be an option. It’d eat at her, knowing there was so much to do but  not knowing how to fix it. But today as she walked down the hall toward the stairs, she had zero hesitation walking away because something else had consumed her mind.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Taylour screeches when the patio doors open. “Mommy, help!” He giggles mid-air as Auston tosses him to the other end of the pool, a large splash erupts around him and a few seconds later his head pokes through the surface.

“I can’t help you.” Tia chuckles as she shuffled around the pool’s edge, her feet getting kissed by the exploding water.

“Why not?” Taylour flings his arm around and starts moving toward Auston.

“Because every time I help, your dad throws me in the water.”

“Not true.” Auston winks at her.

Tia shakes her head.

“Please mommy!” Taylour squeals as Auston grabs him by the waist and once again launches him in the air.

Tia flips her wrist and glances at the time on her watch - the very expensive watch Auston brought back from the California road trip because he “thought of her when he saw it.” “We actually have to go, Taylour.”

“Nooooo!” He emphatically shakes his head.

“Yup.” Auston moves toward the stairs. The water line slowly descends, more and more of his chest coming on display for Tia to gawk at. As he moves toward the steps, he grabs Taylour and tugs him. “You said you wanted In and Out for lunch, we have to go get it.”

“Why can’t I stay with Uncle Freddie, and you bring it here.” Taylour pouts. He stands on one of the pool steps, half in – half out of the water, hoping to convince Auston to let him stay.

“Because we’re your parents not Uncle Freddie. Uncle Freddie doesn’t have to spend his time watching you.”

“I want to stay with Fweddie.”

“Well, you’re not.” Auston bites sharply, letting his frustration poke through. “You’re coming with Mommy and I.”

“I don’t want to go with you and Mommy,” he huffs, angrily smacking his hands against the water.

“Taylour, you are coming. Get out of the pool and get dressed, now.” Auston demands, but Tia catches the inflection in his voice and the smirk curving his lips.

“But why?” He raises his voice, becoming more frustrated with Auston’s unusual stern nature. Tia knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting her son from the pool, it never was.

“Because I said so.” Auston barks. “Keep it up and you won’t get to swim for the rest of the week.”

Taylour releases a loud and dramatic groan, then once again smacks his hands against the water. He stomps past Auston, grumbling under his breath, and goes right to Tia who has a warm fluffy towel waiting for him. Having lost the battle with his father, Taylour sets his sights on Tia, hoping for a different response.

“I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Taylour whined softly while he nestled his head to the crook of her neck. She hears the broken exhale and knows tears are on the way – he doesn’t handle Auston’s frustrations well - she just doesn’t know if they are real or fake.

“I know.” Tia kneels and starts rubbing her hands over his back, drying him off while softly comforting him. She gently tilts his head, and swats at the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. “You have to come with us, sweetie.”

“Why?” Taylour sniffles, barely choking back the lump in his throat.

“Because we have a surprise for you.” Auston cards his hand through Taylour’s drenched curls and grabs his own towel.

“A surprise?!” He immediately perks up, his eyes widen and dart up to Auston. “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, silly.” Tia playfully boops his nose.

As if the last thirty seconds never happened, Taylour immediately takes off toward the sliding door and gives it a firm tug to drag it open. He runs inside too excited to close the door behind him, then scurries across the hardwood.

“No running on the stairs!” Auston yells after him, but he is too late, Taylour is at the top of the stairs, slipping on the hardwood as he sprints past the railing that overlooks the living room.

“What did we get ourselves into?” Tia jokingly whines when Taylour lets out an “ooh” as he uses his palms to catch himself from falling.

Auston wraps his painted arm around Tia, over her shoulder. Tia brings her hand up and grabs his, then leans against his hard chest. Little drops of water land on her shoulder and in her hair. In an almost scarily still tone he whispers, “you’re going to miss this level of calm.” The worst part is, he is right.

**

Like most car rides, Taylour quickly became impatient. It wasn’t long after he finished his cheeseburger and shake before the “where are we going,” “how much longer” and “are we there yet” started. They knew the almost hour drive would be long, and planned for it, but no amount of movies, superhero action figures, colouring books would be enough, when all he wanted was to do was swim.

“Mommy, I’m bored.” He whines and dramatically throws his head back against the car seat. He tosses the tablet, and it lands on the floor, bouncing on impact.

Auston huffs out a dry laugh. Like Taylour, his patience is wearing thin. “Wouldn’t be if you watched the movie.”

“I don’t want to watch the movie anymore.” Taylour promptly informs him. His feet kick against the car seat and he dramatically sighs, again.

“We’re almost there, Tay.” Tia turns in her seat and silently laughs at his outfit choice. He insisted on getting ready himself and his shoes are on the wrong feet, his shirt must have come from the laundry given the ketchup stain on the chest, and his shorts are bright neon yellow. The fashion designer in her cringes but as a mom, she is thrilled that he is dressed, and understands that some battles aren’t worth it.

“How many minutes?”

“Less than five.” She picks up the tablet and pauses the movie, then puts it in her bag.

“That’s too long.” Taylour kicks his legs out in a frustrated fit.

“Of course, it is.” Auston mutters sarcastically, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

Tia snaps her head to Auston, and she gives him a look, one he hasn’t seen often but immediately recognizes. “I promise, you’re going to love your surprise.”

They continue driving down the quiet rural road, slowly maneuvering turns. Whatever playlist Auston selected is quiet, so quiet the only sound is the air conditioning whirring through the vents and the rhythmic beeping of the blinker. Tia presses her head against the window and watches the dust kick out from under the tires.

“We’re here.” Auston announces once the vehicle is parked in front of a large farmhouse.

Taylour perks up and tries to sit up in his seat as much as possible. He takes in the surroundings, a blue house with a simple white fence, not distinguishing or exciting for an almost four-year old.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, not hiding the disgruntled look on his face.

“This is a boring surprise, Daddy.”

“You sure about that?” Taylour freed himself from the car seat, and when Auston opens the door, he is quick to leap out.

“Yeah.” He crinkles his nose and closes the car door behind him. “There is no slide or pool, nothing fun.”

Tia hears small overlapping barks and yips coming from inside the home, her heart flutters. She has been waiting for this day her entire life.

Gravel crunches under her feet as she strolled around the car. She crouches down and puts her hand on her knees, bringing herself to Taylour’s eye level. She adjusts his ball cap over his curls then smiles. “Would it still be a bad surprise if we told you there were puppies inside?”

His brown eyes glow. “I want to see the puppies!” He blurts out.

Auston crouches down and smiles, almost bigger than Taylour. “What if we told you; we’re going to bring one home?”

“MY OWN PUPPY!” Taylour screams while jumping in the air.

“A family puppy.” Auston corrects him.

“I’M GETTING A PUPPY!” He shrieks, unphased by what Auston told him.

Auston knew he would be excited when he found out. He assumed there would be jumping and screaming, thought there was the possibility of joyful tears. What he didn’t count on was Taylour being so excited he’d sprint past them toward the front door without another word.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Taylour pounds on the door as hard as he can. “I’m here for my puppy!” Knock. Knock. Knock.

Auston and Tia had barely made it two steps before the door creaks open, a middle-aged woman stands on the other side.

“Hello.” She smiles to Taylour, then to Auston and Tia.

Taylour bounces on his heels, even though they can’t see his face they know he is beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, my name’s Taylour. I’m here for my puppy.”

“Taylour, you can’t just – “

“It’s fine.” She laughs, Taylour isn’t the first child to react this way. She moves to the side to let him pass then waits for Tia and Auston to make their way up the porch.

“Sorry, he has wanted a puppy since before he could walk.”

The three of them hear Taylour squeal as an overlapping chorus of barks and whines echo down the hall.

“No apologies needed.” They all step inside and see Taylour standing on the outside of the fenced in area. He is leaning as far as he can without losing his balance, scratching the tops of the puppies’ heads, giggling the entire time. “I’m Sandra, and that,” she eyes over to the full-size Bernese Mountain dog who is across from Taylour keeping a watchful eye on her pups, “is Stella the mom.” Shortly after a white poodle rounds the corner and walks right up to Auston, nudging his hand for some pets. “This suck is Teddy.”

“Hiya Teddy.” Auston bends down and is instantly met with a lick to the cheek.

“Which one is mine?” Taylour’s head is on a swivel. This puppy. That puppy. That puppy. He can barely keep up. 

“We have to pick it.” Auston tells him.

“You can go in.” Sandra offers, motioning to the pen.

Auston and Tia step over the gate, then Auston hooks his arms under Taylour’s armpits to hoist him over. The three of them fall to the floor, immediately being swarmed by the puppies.

“Mommy!” Taylour giggles as one with a pink ribbon licks his cheek. “Mommy, I want this one.”

“Yeah?” She grins, gently scratching behind the ear.

“Any with a ribbon have a home already,” Sandra tells them. “They’ve all had their first round of shots and will be ready for the next one in about two weeks.”

“Daddy, look!” Taylour nods to his foot, where one is gnawing on his sock, attempting to pull it off.

“This one’s trouble huh?” Auston scoops up the black and white ball of fur, taking Taylour’s sock with him, then cradles it in his arms.

“He’s silly.” Taylour broadcasts, trying to yank the sock out of its mouth.

When the puppy keeps his jaw tightly clenched around Taylour’s sock, he sets the puppy on his lap to the ground and crawls over to Auston. He pets along its side with one hand, his other tugging on the sock, laughing the entire time. Finally, the puppy releases the sock only to start chewing at Auston’s wrist.

“I want this one.” Taylour gives it a kiss.

“Really? What about this one?” Tia eyes to the one curled in her lap, eyes getting heavy.

Taylour takes a second to glance between the two dogs, pondering Tia’s suggestion. She obviously knows just because a dog is calm now doesn’t mean it always will be, but something, most likely her motherly instinct is telling her not to pick the one already biting.

“Uhmmm.” He ponders. Taylour scoots closer to Tia to look at the puppy in her lap. “Ohh, this one is cute too, Mommy!”

“Mhm.”

Taylour’s eyes rapidly dart between the two dogs, and he appears deep in thought, but they both know he has zero selection criteria. A twinkle catches his eye, and his entire face somehow lights up even more.

“Can I have both puppies?”

“No.” Tia is very fast to answer.

“Puh-lease!” He turns to Auston. His move always is to try the other parent with hopes for a better outcome. “Please can I get two puppies, Daddy?”

Auston looks to Taylour, then to the puppy curled up in Tia’s arms sleeping, then to the one nibling at his wrist, and sighs. “I don’t think –“

“Please, Daddy! They can play together.” He eagerly cuts him off, desperately trying to bring home two dogs.

“Then who will you play with?” Tia can see the way Auston’s face is softening and knows she will have to be the one to shut this down.

“I’ll play with them, we’ll be best friends, all three of us!”

“I think we only need one dog for now.” Auston says dimly, but Tia knows if she wasn’t here to supervise, Auston would be bringing two dog’s home.

“No!” Taylour carefully climbs over the puppies and their toys to get to Auston and wraps his arms tightly around his neck. “We need two puppies, Daddy!”

Auston makes the mistake of looking at Taylour and sees the large pout and beady eyes, a cuteness barely rivalled by the puppy in his lap. Taylour falls to his knees and gets directly into Auston’s sightline. He puts his hands together as if he is praying, and desperately pleads with a croak in his voice. “Please can we get two, Daddy? Pleeeeease?”

Auston hates how his son knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make him forget all reason.

“Tay,” Auston sighs and prepares himself for the heartbreak, but he knows Taylour will get over it faster than Tia’s frustration if he gives in. “Just one.”

There is a groan that develops deep in his stomach as his shoulders drop. “No fair.”

“Look at how cute this little guy is though.”

Auston holds the wiggly puppy a little higher and hands it to Taylour. An excited yip comes from the puppy and a smile begins to creep its way back to Taylour’s face. “He is cute, Daddy.”

Auston reaches over and grabs a small stuffed pig and gives it to the puppy who wraps his mouth around it and starts whipping its head from side to side. “I want this one.” Taylour informs them without an ounce of hesitation.

Auston and Tia left Taylour with the puppies and found Sandra in the kitchen. They went over the paperwork and fine details. She gave them a bag with some food, a small blanket, along with a binder full of health information and veterinary records.

By the time they wandered back to the living room a few minutes later, Taylour had forgotten about his desire to bring home two. He was on his knees, heels digging into the back of his thighs, squeaking the pig in an attempt to engage the puppy.

“You two ready?” Tia walks to the edge of the puppy fencing, Auston’s hand on her back.

“Mhm.” Taylour enthusiastically nods. He stands up and Auston bends down to help him over then scoops up their puppy. “Thank you for my puppy!” Taylour addresses Sandra while making a beeline for the door.

Once Taylour was in the car, which was a task, he demanded the dog sit with him. Tia was a little uneasy about leaving them alone in the back, she had a feeling she should sit with them, just in case the puppy fell or wandered away and somehow found his way under a seat, but Auston assured her everything would be fine. He could tell she was anxious, so he reached over the console and laced his fingers with hers, then brought it to her lips and placed kisses on the back of her hand, knowing that would bring her to ease.

“What should we name him?” Auston asks as they sit at a red light, the steady sound of the blinker being drowned by the noise coming from the backseat.

“Rex.” Taylour proudly proclaims.

“Rex?” Auston probes with a laugh. The suggestion undoubtedly comes from the recent viewing of Toy Story. “I don’t know if that suits him.”

“Pickles!” He cheers from the back seat.”

“Pickles?” Tia shakes her head; she knew letting the almost-four-year-old name the dog would be a terrible idea. “What about Bernie?” She suggests in reference to its breed.

“No.” They simultaneously protest.

“How about Felix?” Auston pipes up. He doesn’t know why but the second he held him, that name felt right and it’s hard for him to imagine the dog as anything else.

“Yes!” Taylour promptly agrees. “I like that!”

Auston kept his hand linked with hers over the console as he drove the quiet Scottsdale streets. His eyes were mostly on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing in the rearview every chance he got, spending red lights turned around staring at Taylour and Felix.

The next few hours were somewhat of a blur. Taylour was eager to show Felix to Trevor and Fred. He had to FaceTime Mitch, Becks, Emily and Max,Sarah and Charlie, every person he knew. He never wanted to leave Felix, even tried getting him to come to the bathroom with him. He would lay on the floor beside him while he napped, pull him into his arms for pets, dangle a toy over his head, or run around in the yard, trying to get him to follow. Felix was a little overwhelmed at times, often quiet and reserved, unsure about the toys and people around him, but that didn’t stop Taylour. He was determined to be that pup’s best friend no matter what.

**

Auston found Tia in the kitchen checking her e-mail. Some Disney movie Taylour long ago lost interest in plays in the background, he uses the noise to sneak up in front of her. He presses himself into her and chuckles when she jumps.

Droplets of water fall from his hair and splatter on her shoulder, the towel that hangs loosely over his hips rubs against her thigh.

“He’s so happy.” Auston places a gentle kiss on her temple.

She peers out the glass doors to Taylour who is sitting on a lounger with Felix in his lap. She doesn’t know what he is saying, but he constantly laughs and places kisses to his head. Her heart is about to explode. She lets out a contentious sigh and rests her arms on his shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the metal wrapped around his neck. “I’m so happy we did this.”

“Me too.” Auston tugs at her pony and tilts her head back, then places a kiss on her lips. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Tia is expecting another kiss on her lips, only Auston ducks down and starts sucking along her neck.

“Auston.” She tries to scold him, only to shriek when he grabs a handful of ass from under her damp bathing suit.

“I want to kiss my girlfriend without a little parrot announcing it.”

“I know.” Tia sighs, because he has been announcing it - six times so far. “But we should go to our boys.”

Our boys.

Auston loves the way that sounds and even though it’s only been a couple hours he can’t wait until their family grows even more.

“They’re fine, Fred and Trevor have it under control. “Besides, you have a boy here who needs you.” He rolls her hips over his slowly growing erection and carves his nails into her flesh.

“Auston.” She playfully swats at his chest, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I told you to add fucking me to your list of things to do today,” he growls.

His fingers trail over her skin, pricked with goosebumps, until they find the bows that are holding up the barely-there bikini bottoms. His fingers tangle in and he begins to tug, loosening the knot.

“It’s like 4 pm.” It’s a futile attempt. They both know it.

Having heard no reason to stop, Auston quickly hoists her onto the counter. The towel drops to the floor as he presses her knees apart. He gently teases his fingertips past the seam of her lips, sending a ripple of goosebumps up her spine.

She wants to give in.

She can’t help it.

She spent too much time without him, her heart (among other things) physically ached for him and his touch. She never wants to be without it again, never wants to crave his physical touch like she did.

Following the hitch in her breath, two fingers slide inside, and are greedily welcomed by her heat. She arches toward his electric touch and his mouth moves toward the sweet spot below her ear.

It barely takes two minutes before a slew of curse words roll off Tia’s tongue. The air between them gets sticky and Auston licks up her neck. She can see the bulge beneath his bathing suit, rapidly swelling as he continues to stroke her inner walls. Through the pleasureful haze Tia barely manages to get her fingers under the waist band.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Auston purrs against her neck, teeth nipping at her warm skin. Pressure builds inside her – everywhere – as Auston pets her silky inner walls. “I’m gonna bend you over this counter.” Auston’s breath is hot and heavy against her skin, fanning over her in hypnotic waves. “Kitchen’s gonna be so dirty we’ll need a hazmat team.”

Tia shudders. Her cheeks colour pink.

She wraps a leg around his hip and pulls him close. His left hand immediately finds her thigh and runs up and down. Fingerprints are left on her hips; bright red scratch marks decorate his shoulders. He’s hungry and he won’t stop until he’s had his fill of her.

“That’s what you want, right?” All thoughts disappear from her mind when his thumb starts caressing her swollen clit. Every part of her is consumed by him, and she struggles to even breathe. “To use my cock to christen this place, huh?” Her breasts bounce following every thrust, threatening to spill out of the stringy bikini top any moment. Little butterflies dance in her belly. She is barely keeping it together and Auston can tell. “M’gonna fuck you so hard a black light will break in here.”

“Mngh.” Tia chokes out, as if her tongue is glued to the top of her mouth.

“Let my friends hear.” Auston encourages her. He spits in his hand then it disappears, slathering his cock in saliva. She shudders when his warm erection nudges against her throbbing clit. “Cum baby. Show them how good I make you feel.”

Auston kneads at her fraying nerve as his breath gets hotter and heavier against her skin. They are so absorbed by the coil tightening in her belly, her release building and building -

“AUSTON!” Ema howls, absolutely horrified.

Nothing would get Auston to stop. Nothing, except his mother would get him to stop.

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@youtxbemusic@nicoleloveshockey@emsully2002 @hockeypuckspottspot @ashleymarine@albal321@b34ut1fulb4st4rds@biznastysloneshift12@burkylover@c-tangerine@canadian-girl87@crazzyfann @dana-hqy @delighttfulll@evawest5@every-beautifulthing-thereis@greendragonzz@heatherawoowoo@hockeybabe87@hockeyinaussie@hockeyisit@hockeypuckedmeup@je-ne-regrette-rien@jakekisska@partypoison00 @princesscameston @puccbunni @queenmarvel21 @sixmapleleafs@starswin@trashforbarzal@0kikina0@1-fuzzy-squirrels@janeydeaux@stuff4me2do@callsign-denmark @monnbc @simpgirl-lat@huneyjojo221 @idfan21 @elly-dx@samanthasgone@holyalfalfasprout@lwstuff @mattyzmarner @ashloveshockey

#Too Far Gone #Auston Matthews #Auston Matthews fic #Auston Matthews smut #NHL Smut #Too Far Gone Fic #too far gone #auston matthews imagine #hockey fic #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #Auston Matthews OC #TFG #hockey fanfiction #auston matthews!dad fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fic

[nadvs]

cam girl (part five)

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

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart in your ear. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

#I MIGHT HAVE GONE TOO FAR WITH THIS ONE!!! #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine

[usedtobecooler]

hey, squealer | virgin!eddie x fem!reader

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingers in mouth, blowjobs, dirty talk (a lie, reader is just mean and likes to make fun of him), taking of virginity, mocking, fluff, mentions of horror movie scenes, mention of death.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | i'm back again and none of you can stop me!!!! virgin!eddie has me in a fucking chokehold and i couldn't rest until i wrote and published this. i've linked all parts to this series at the beginning so we have on place for everything. enjoy!!

It'd been a few days since your bathroom encounter and things were so much better this time. You were back to goofing off at work, speaking about anything and everything and you even had taken an interest in Eddie's D&D campaign that he'd been buzzing on about.

It was cute watching him be so passionate about the things he enjoyed doing, the way he'd excitedly tell you about how Erica had defeated his campaign again all whilst mocking Lucas for being useless, how Will had joined Hellfire since returning from California and fit in perfectly, how Gareth finally had a girlfriend.

It was so endearing to watch him like this, you were pretty sure if he paid close enough attention to you he'd see the hearts in your pupils.

"You wanna come to my house tonight?" You'd asked him after your Saturday shift, twirling your hair in your finger as you leaned on the cash counter, watching him bounce around slotting vinyls into their correct places.

Eddie's movements halted abruptly, looking at you and narrowing his eyes, "Your house? To do what?"

"Watch a movie?" You ask hopefully, a glint in your eyes, "Do you like scary movies?"

"I love scary movies, sweetheart," Eddie places both of his hands over his heart, fluttering exaggeratedly at your words, "what movie were you thinking?"

"I rented Halloween from Family Video," You smile all giddy as you watch Eddie's movements, so endeared by how goofy he was, "the first one, of course. No other compares."

"You're right about that," Eddie smirks, "give me your address and I'll be there, seven okay?"

"Perfect."

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

Seven came around pretty quickly and now you were getting a little nervous. Your parents were out for the night at some fancy event for your dads company that was out of town, so they were in a hotel for the night and you were home all alone.

You hadn't asked Eddie if he wanted to stay over, but you sort of hoped you could reel him into staying with your sweet words. Especially after watching a horror movie like Halloween, what an awful idea that was.

The doorbell rings and you very nearly shoot out of your skin, making to the door and opening it to find Eddie standing there looking all dopey and tired.

"Thank God this is the right house, I got nervous I was somehow on the wrong street," Eddie sighs, stepping into the house without an invite and toeing off his Reeboks as you shut and lock the door behind him.

"Nope, you're right where you need to be," You say, lips popping on the 'p', "the VCR is in my room, my parents hate movies so I get it all to myself, you okay to come up to my room to watch the film?"

Okay, so maybe that's a bit of a white lie and maybe you had spent the last half hour dragging the VCR upstairs and fiddling around with all the cables to make sure it was set up in your room, but Eddie would be none the wiser.

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes, nervousness apparent in the way he balks at you, "Uh, are you sure?"

"Course, we'll be comfier on my bed anyway," You smirk, grabbing hold of his hand and tugging him upstairs with you. Your bedroom door is already open, to reveal your pretty made up bed with a baby blue comforter effortlessly tucked in and a million pillows.

Your room is small, like the rest of the house really, so your TV is pretty close to the end of your bed, only a dresser and bedside table as other furniture.

"Make yourself at home," You shoo Eddie away to sit on the bed, watching as he removes his denim jacket just leaving him in his shirt and loose sweatpants, "don't think I've ever seen you in anything other than jeans."

"Oh, uh, I wanted to be comfortable," Eddie says, voice nervous and slightly sheepish as he gets cosy on your bed, "Jesus, how many pillows do you need, sweetheart."

"I like to feel like I'm on a cloud." You giggle, sliding onto the bed and automatically resting your head on Eddie's lap. You choose to ignore the sharp intake of breath he takes when you get comfortable, your big oversized shirt riding up to reveal a little expanse of your panties.

The TV was already on, video tape in and ready to go, so once you're sure you're both comfortable you press play and the movie starts, soon enough little Michael is walking through his home in Haddonfield to murder his sister in the front bedroom.

You lay in silence as you watch, in no mood for teasing as you lose your focus on Eddie and become engulfed in the movie playing out in front of you.

Eventually, it gets to the part where Lynda and Bob sneak into Annie's home to get it on, and you're trying to ignore the way Eddie is squirming under your head, when all of the sudden-

You shoot up from your place in Eddie's lap, "Are you seriously getting a hard on over Lynda's tits? She's about to die a horrible death, you freak." You're mocking him but your mouth is watering a little as you watch his cock strain in his sweatpants.

"They're nice tits," Eddie shoots back, voice weak and strained as Michael strangles Lynda with the telephone cord, "not as nice as yours though."

You lay a hand over your chest, acting all bashful, "I'm flattered, but you haven't even seen my tits outside of my top."

"Show me then." Eddie says, raising his brows as if to challenge you. What he doesn't expect is for you to actually pull your baggy shirt off over your head and expose your bare breasts to him, nipples hardening from the cool air right away.

"There," You say all triumphant and pleased with yourself, "I don't wear a bra at home, so jokes on you, pretty boy."

He's all flustered, wide puppy dog eyes drinking in the look of your tits, hand coming out hesitantly until you nod, letting him cup one in his palm, thumb rubbing over the hard nub of your nipple. A sweet sigh escapes your lips and you shudder from the contact.

"Can I help you with that at all?" You ask sweetly but still mocking, nodding towards his straining cock in his pants, "Looks like you don't wear underwear in the house either."

Eddie barks out a nervous laugh, "You caught me, princess." Your heart flutters over the nickname, core quivering as he stares at you intently, "I suppose, uh, I suppose you can if you wan'. Don't feel like you have to."

"I don't, I want to," You confirm, changing position so you're sat on your knees between his spread legs, "can I blow you?"

He chokes on his tongue, face going beet red, "Are you sure? Shit, you don't have to-"

You cut him off by digging your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, forcing him to lift his hips up so you can pull them to his ankles. His cock springs up all proudly, flushed red at the tip and already leaking a little.

"You're such a virgin," You sigh, just a little teasing coming out behind the admiring way you say it, all happy with yourself that it's only you who's ever done this for him.

"And you're such a slut." Eddie quips back, though there's no heat behind the words. You look up at him, furrowed brows and a dumb look on your face, all quiet for a second to make him squirm.

"I didn't mean that." He says eventually and you laugh at him, leaning down and gripping the base of his cock, spitting on the head to get it nice and wet.

"No, you're right," You admit, hand jerking him up and down and you don't miss the way he starts whining right away, "just a slut for your massive fucking cock."

A broken moan escapes Eddie's lips as you sink down on his cock, hot mouth gliding over the flushed skin and tongue licking over his head, hand twisting over what you can't fit in your mouth - which is a fair amount, and you're disappointed in your own skills now.

You force yourself to take a bit more of him in your mouth and your throat closes up, gagging a little as the head hits the back of your throat and Eddie shoves his hips up and cums with an embarrassingly loud shout.

You choke and splutter on his cum but still swallow it down, a little dribbling out the sides of your mouth as you pull off of him, "Could've warned a gal, Jesus Eddie."

He's embarrassed and you feel bad at the way he clenches his eyes shut and cringes like he's about to cry, "I am so, so sorry," he stumbles over his words, voice raising an octave, "I didn't expect you to, well, try to deep throat me and it caught me off guard."

You're smiling all pretty at him now, "Don't say sorry, I'm not mad," you say it sincerely, no mocking as you shrug, "that was kinda hot. Gives me a bit of an ego."

You slide off of the bed and retrieve a muslin cloth from your dresser, plopping back onto the bed with a huff as you clean him up, wandering hands ghosting all over his limp cock and his balls for him.

You pretend not to notice the hiss of breath he takes in and the way his eyes wander down to where your hands are taking care of him.

Eddie's back is pressed firm against your plush headboard and he's all flushed red, clearly still orgasm drunk from his first blowjob -- if you could even call it that.

"Do you trust me?" You ask gently, making to hover over his lap but not quite settling, still on your knees to keep distance.

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Eddie's eyes have a little twinkle in them, a dopey smile spreading across his face as he gently reaches his hands out to settle on your waist. You melt into it, body going a little lax and keening into his touch.

"You can absolutely say no, but," Your fingers dance over the front of his Hellfire shirt, the first time you'd seen him in it since you were both in high school, and it's making you feel a little juvenile, "I was thinking it was maybe time for you to pop your cherry."

You inwardly cringe at your words, you were hoping to be a little softer with him and a bit more serious but you can't help the teasing, it's like your brain is hotwired to automatically make fun of him.

"You're, wha-," Eddie's stuttering over his words, at a bit of a loss, "I didn't bring a condom."

The barking laugh that escapes your lips sounds mean, and you know that, but he's just so precious, "Honey, Eddie, baby..." you coo at him, "I'm on birth control. I'm totally clean too, trust me, surely you'd want to feel everything the way it's meant to feel for the very first time, right? So I'm sure the condom doesn't matter, unless it's what you want."

You can feel Eddie's cock pulsing between you both, clearly perking up at the thought of getting buried in your tight cunt for the first time. His face isn't so easy to read, though, you can tell his brain is running at a million miles a minute trying to soak in everything that's going on.

"You can say no," You say helpfully, a little bashful smile tugging at your lips, "I don't want to pressure you."

"You're not," Eddie says it in a rush, sitting up a little, "you're not rushing me. I just - I'm worried it's gonna be shit for you and over as fast as that was." He's clearly referring to the blowjob you just attempted to give him, face screwing up as he cringes.

"Hey, second orgasm usually doesn't come so fast," You shrug, like it's no big deal because it isn't, "you'll get better with practice, last longer, find what you like and don't like. It's normal, handsome."

"God," Eddie clenches his eyes shut momentarily, like your words are throwing him through a loop, "what'd I ever do to deserve a gal like you being so understanding."

"You were yourself," It's honest, that's what captivated you from the get go, just the way Eddie was in himself was enough to pull you in, "and now I get to mold you into my perfect little sex god."

You sink down a little now, your still panty-clad pussy dragging hotly against Eddie's cock, now fully erect again and slapping at his stomach. His eyes shoot open, biting at his bottom lip to stifle a groan.

And maybe this would be over quicker than you thought. But you were okay with that, the night was young and round two and three were always an option.

"I'll move these to the side," You say, voice quiet as you motion toward your panties with your left hand, "and then I'll do all the work, 'kay? You just tell me what you like and what you don't, and when you're close."

Eddie's mesmerized by your cunt, watching as you loop your fingers into the black material and tug them to the side, exposing yourself to the cool air, "Do you not-," he struggles, "do you not want me to... get you off first?"

"Trust me, honey, I really don't need it," You smirk, grabbing his hard cock by the base and hovering over it, slipping the head between your slick folds. You watch his eyebrows furrow, his mouth fall open as his head falls back and hits your headboard, clearly overcome with pleasure.

Eddie's silent, all words caught in his mouth as you let the tip of his cock breach your hole, sinking down little by little, gasping at the stretch of it because Jesus he's massive, until you're fully sat and nestled.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move, Eds," You whisper, a whimper dying in your throat as your hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt pulling on it until he's looking at you, just to make sure he's listening and still okay.

He's really big, not that you didn't know that when you got your hands and mouth on it, but it feels bigger nestled inside the tight heat of your cunt, like you can almost feel him in your stomach.

Eddie nods eventually once his breathing evens out and you don't waste any time in getting started. To begin with you take it slow, only lifting yourself up just enough for a few inches to come out before sliding back down again, gauging how he reacts. His mouth falls open in a broken moan, eyebrows furrowing as he gets used to the feeling of your wet cunt gripping him so well.

He risks a glance down to watch your bodies meeting, the way his cock slides in and out of you and maybe it was a mistake because you're feeling his cock twitching already, whilst he watches your creamy release pool around his thick expanse of dark pubes, matting it down.

"You're - fuckfuck - making a mess," Eddie's voice is so whimpery and subby it makes you shudder in a breath, a whine coming from your throat as you swipe two fingers through the mess, picking some up and forcing your fingers into his mouth until he's sucking them clean.

"Shut up," You moan, finally bouncing up and down properly now, never taking your eyes off of his own, big and wet and perfect, your cunt gripping him so deliciously, sweet spot being abused with every stroke, "rub my clit."

Eddie lets your fingers slip from his mouth, thumb coming down to rub messily at your clit, absolutely no fucking rhythm to it whatsoever but at this point it didn't matter because you could feel your stomach tightening already.

"You're so wet," Eddie sighs, all mesmerized and struggling to rip his eyes away from his thumb on your cunt, until he catches your tits bouncing up and down and he leans forward to latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking it tentatively.

"You're gonna make me cum," You whine, crying out as you continue bouncing, trying to ignore how Eddie's own hips are fucking up to meet your thrusts and how it's driving you crazy, "Jesus Christ."

"Nah, just me," Eddie moans, and it would've been funny if he didn't sound so fucked out, "m'gonna cum, shit, fuck."

The sounds are so fucking hot it's driving you wild, the loud slapping of your skin connecting in this delicious smack, your sopping wet cunt sucking him in, the panting and whining escaping Eddie's lips and you are gone, clenching around his fat cock as you cum, shoving yourself down so he's all the way in to the hilt.

Your pussy clenching like a vice around Eddie's cock is enough to have him shooting off, grip on your waist so tight it almost hurts as he cums, buried deep in you. His orgasm face is so pretty you watch the whole thing without blinking, the way his curls fan his face wetly from sweat, his glossy eyes pricking with tears, his swollen red lips parting in a constant string of moans.

There's silence for a moment and as usual you ruin it by letting the intrusive thoughts win, "There's no way any other woman is allowed to have this fat cock. It's mine now."

Eddie barks out a little laugh, looking up at you with this big dumb smile, rosy cheeks flushing even darker, "Yours if you want it, sweetheart."

You lean down with hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, giggling and smiling against his lips whilst his softening cock slips out of you.

(i was gonna do a taglist but for some reason the tags wouldn't work send help - i hope everyone who wanted to find this does!!)

#oh no here we go again #i cant be stopped at this point it's gone too far #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic

[leavingautumn13]

To contrast with its docile pre-evolution, camerupt are temperamental, bitey, bullheaded, and prone to setting things on fire. They are often placed with herds of regular cattle to defend them; a well-trained camerupt can take on a pack of mightyena by itself.

Camerupt have very few natural predators. Mightyena will sometimes make an attempt if a member of the herd is particularly weak or sick, but they more often stick to numel. With rock-type moves, a camerupt can put up a fight even against a salamence.

Due to the dangers camerupt can pose even to its trainer, numel is rare as a starter pokemon except in the Lavaridge area. Most captive camerupt have been bred and raised in captivity; if a specimen was caught in the wild it was most likely caught as a numel and then evolved. Approaching wild camerupt is not advised.

[send me a pokemon and i'll draw it in my style and add my headcanons]

#camerupt #realistic pokemon #pokemon #pokemon rse #pokemon oras #autumn.art #i'm doing rough anatomical sketches? i'm officially too far gone #''that camerupt in the front looks familiar'' that's maxie's camerupt tephra from my fic. with a slightly more coherent redesign #anyway. hoenn's answer to bison

[dateko]

[9:22 AM] GOJO SATORU ft. the fushiguro babies

There are wet and sticky kisses making their way along your neck from your jaw.

Stuck between your peaceful dreams and the material world, you’re unsure if you want the kisses to cease or to carry on for a lifetime. The little nips and low giggles that tickle you after each sweet peck has you realizing that you’re just about on the edge of reality, so you blindly swat away the mischievous owner of the citrus-stained lips. “Go away, ‘Toru,” You sink your face deeper into your pillow with a sigh. “I'm still sleeping.”

The kisses come to a halt, and you can see Satoru pout. Yes, even with your eyes closed shut. It’s a skill you’ve acquired after years of dating such a menace. Sometimes you wonder if you possess six eyes too. “What? Come on, I made us breakfast.” The sorcerer whines, rubbing his hands over your arms.

“Oh, I know... My hair is stuck to the orange juice on my neck.”

“Please? It’s good! I swear, Sweetheart.”

Craning your head to the side, you let your eyes escape from the pillow’s dark embrace and offer your lover a threatening squint before letting out a groan at both the sunlight and Satoru’s intrusive welcome in your bedroom. An idea pops into your mind, and you reach for Satoru’s hand, playing with it a little before tugging it towards you. “Hey, why don’t you stay in bed with me? It’s warm and cozy… And cuddles are offered here.”

Even with an offer as tempting as that, the sight of the small pout on your luscious lips with the low sound of your morning voice, your boyfriend continues to be unyielding and tenacious. If he was a lesser man, he would have died right there. But he was close. “Nice try, but there are pancakes waiting for you.”

Before Satoru could steal a chance to slip away, you tighten your grip on his hand and lace your fingers together. You make a point and statement by brushing your thumb across the top of his hand, knowing Gojo Satoru is one hopeless man. “Well, how ‘bout a kiss?” Pausing for effect, sitting up to face him with a devilish smile. “Two kisses? You can name your price.”

At this point, you’re fully awake. No longer is the debate about breakfast or cuddles in bed, but whose stubbornness overpowered the other. Your cheeks practically hurt from all the smiling you’ve done, batting your lashes up at your lover in hopes of getting your way. The expression he has on is enigmatic, he’s contemplating. You’d never get tired of teasing him. It was just so rare to get someone as powerful as him tied down and flustered like a young teenager you once knew.

This, you decide for the umpteenth time in your life, is what falling in love with Gojo Satoru is like.

Hiding your gasps whenever Satoru’s blue eyes stare into your own was a difficult task. It’s an all too inviting trance on its own and you have to focus your attention elsewhere to win against him. His larger hand copies your previous actions, thumb brushing the back of your hand slowly, coaxing you to look at him. You already know he’s smirking down at you.

“Oh yeah?” He leans in, voice dropping with his nose brushing against yours. “I might just have t-“

“Guys!” A little voice breaks the two of you apart and Satoru drops his forehead on you in defeat. You sigh happily knowing you’ve been freed from whatever thoughts Satoru’s been having and the terrible heated tension.

At the doorway, Tsumiki holds a small Megumi in one hand and her own orange juice in the other. “Gojo hurry! We waited all day for you!”

Confused, you watch your boyfriend laugh as he gets up from his defeated position. “Tsumiki, it's nine in the morning. You waited for eight minutes. But don’t worry! Y/n’s awake now.”

“W-what?”

Tsumiki pads to your side of the bed, dragging Megumi along with her excitedly. “You have to eat breakfast now! Hurry! We can’t wait anymore!” You’ve got no time to protest when little hands grab at your wrist, tugging you towards the kitchen. Behind you, Satoru is trailing behind with a merry chuckle, hands grabbing at your waist.

#this has been in my drafts for a very long time and this was meant to be way longer aand a potential proposal fic but what can i do #i've been gone far too long #NOW EAT THIS! #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk

[difeisheng]

一遍一遍來過

They come to Di Feisheng in fits and starts, the way any recollections of the last weeks have, blinks of clarity etched out from indistinct colour slowly coming into focus. The first of them is the last; the final memory a man named A-Fei ever had, before Di Feisheng stormed back into consciousness to take his place. It is short, so short he nearly doubts it happened. But Di Feisheng has always been able to depend on his own senses if nothing else, and so its existence is undeniable.

A-Fei, a boy's voice calls out, fine silk and warmth cradling him as he slumps to hard stone, a split instant before the world fades to nothing. His eyes are already closed, but A-Fei knows who it is, who rushed to his side without hesitation.

Where is Fang Duobing now? Di Feisheng thinks idly, in his spare moments wandering this gilded cage of Jinyuanmeng. Is he with Li Lianhua still, determined to follow that man to the end of the jianghu? For all his fumbling earnesty and pettiness of youth, at least Fang Duobing can be trusted to wear only one face. Unlike others who pretend even now, all rouge-red smile and sickly sweet words, to look after Di Feisheng.

And so the remembering begins.

Next to return, like the first, is a mere flash across Di Feisheng's mind. Of darkness, the even breath of one sleeping falling against his neck, another body rolling over to curl along his back.

What are you doing, xiaozi? A-Fei says, whispered rumble in the night. Fang Duobing, lost in dream, does not answer. His steady weight stills further into slumber.

A-Fei drifts closer to sleep himself with Fang Duobing tucked against him. It will not be the last time.

They shared a bed before, Di Feisheng knows this. Li Lianhua left them no choice. The soft trust of that act, though, is new. He imagines turning his back on someone in sleep, himself and not A-Fei, without even a blade under his pillow.

It is an unsettling thought.

A-Fei, Fang Duobing says in the next memory, A-Fei, and when A-Fei turns at his call he reaches to adjust A-Fei's mask, sword-calloused fingers lightly brushing his jaw.

And—

Do you like this one, A-Fei? Fang Duobing asks, pointing out a bolt of fabric in a dark plum, patterns running across it in an even deeper shade. A-Fei doesn't think he ever came to tailor's shops for robes, like this. He knows no one asked him before what he likes, like this.

He nods, and Fang Duobing smiles in self-satisfaction, sliding Li Lianhua's coins across the counter.

And—

Fang Duobing looks up at him, hand clasped to his mouth after words gone astray, eyes wide and shining. What aspirations do you have, A-Fei? he said, but how far can a man without a past dream into the future?

His gaze is demanding in its curiosity, expecting too much from A-Fei. What does he have left to give to a boy like Fang Duobing, so stubborn in his refusal to ever stop caring?

And then one day Di Feisheng studies the line of his back in a steam-clouded mirror, water from the bath trailing down his skin, glimpsing the faintest of raked marks still yet to fade away—

Fang Duobing gasps into his neck, words half-formed and lost, clawing A-Fei closer by wherever he can blindly reach. The night is a blur of heat and breathless sound, sweat cooling on both of them in the autumn dark, clinging in this village full of ghosts and A-Fei doesn't care. Cannot bring himself to care, driving himself deeper into Fang Duobing, held down to the sheets by A-Fei's grip at his wrist and every snap of his hips.

A-Fei, he hears his name again, caught against the edge of a moan, and A-Fei lowers his head to taste it on Fang Duobing's tongue himself.

In the shadowed doorway, out of the corner of A-Fei's sight, he catches the smear of Li Lianhua's silhouette against the black. Footsteps halted in shock, or maybe amusement.

The wave crests. A-Fei's world tips into blissful white, and Fang Duobing cries out.

Di Feisheng, now, searches for a flower that exists in legends in the name of Li Lianhua. Unwavering, whatever draw toward him it is that Di Feisheng has known , since Li Xiangyi first brought his blade against his own. This has not changed; in this lifetime, it will not.

Yet A-Fei, even in just the briefest of moments scattered like stars, across from Fang Duobing... in all his few months of existence, he could have had a chance to be content.

(Di Feisheng hopes that, at least for one night, the last night of company, he was happy.)

(He wonders, again, where Fang Duobing is, and sacrifices a foolish second to hope for a disappeared man's wish that he might have been, too.)

~*~

(Dear reader, they both were.)

#mysterious lotus casebook #difang #di feisheng #fang duobing #fic #ashton writes fic #hi hello i'm feeling far too emotional about the idea that di feisheng loved li xiangyi/li lianhua #but it was a-fei who loved fang duobing #and now he's gone

[chloecherrysip]

all the pain will change into a memory of when we were amazing (mario & luigi-centric post-movie fic, part 2!)

(Part one can be found here!)

(Thanks again to everyone who read the first part and was so sweet about it! Here's the continuation. This is a shorter interlude with Mario and Luigi's family before we get to the main "meat" of the story AKA Mario and Luigi talking on their own in the third part, coming soon. I hope you enjoy, and I appreciate any thoughts/feedback. I will get this uploaded on AO3 as soon as I can as well, if you'd prefer to read over there.)

+

“Hey-o!” 

Things had been so quiet on their long, long, long trek back home that the sudden noise made Mario stiffen as they shuffled through the door, every nerve on high alert for a breathless few seconds. Luigi, who had practically sleepwalked the last block with his head leaned against Mario’s head, using his brother's hat as a makeshift pillow, started too, mumbling a greeting that barely resembled the English language, waving at the front door before realizing he was turned around and swaying around to face the warm light of the dining room instead. It looked like dinner was already over, dishes and silverware being cleared away.

“Look who finally decided to show up! Brooklyn’s brand-new heroes!” Uncle Arthur raised a nearly empty glass of what looked like wine in laughing celebration. “What, you save the city from a bunch of weird turtle goons one time and you’re too good to share a meal with us regular bums?” 

“They were helping with the cleanup,” Aunt Marie hissed, swatting him hard enough to elicit a yelp. “Where were you out there, huh?” She smiled warmly at Mario and Luigi on her way to the kitchen. “Sorry we couldn’t wait any longer. Gramps and Mia needed to get to bed. But don’t worry, we saved plenty!”

“Probably too busy signing autographs for all the bella signore,” Uncle Tony guffawed. “Hard to blame ‘em! Better enjoy it before they figure out you’re plumbers with no money!”

“Heh, yeah. Caught us fair and square,” Mario said, managing a weak laugh. Luigi let loose a tiny, snorting chuckle too, although whether that was because he was backing Mario up or just blindly mimicking what he heard, too lost in his own sleepy little world, Mario wasn’t sure. They were still holding onto one another, which they’d maintained the entire walk back except in places where it was impossible to proceed in that way (ladders and the like). That way, a repeat of the stairs incident couldn’t happen, and Mario had known exactly when Luigi was getting shaky enough to need a break. He squeezed his brother’s hand as a way to check in. It took a few seconds, but Luigi squeezed back gently, which was a small relief.

“Is that the boys!?” Without any further warning, their mother barreled out of the kitchen like a runaway train. She grabbed them in both arms, her shaking grip tight enough that both brothers wheezed from a sudden lack of air. “Oddio, where have you been? You already vanished on us once! My old heart can’t take much more of this.” 

“You’re not that old, Ma,” Luigi murmured, patting her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Mario said as clearly as he could manage with his face smothered in her hair. “Didn’t mean to make ya worry. Just, uh, lost track of time, that’s all.”

“What happened?” That was Dad, moving slower to catch up with her, his brow creased deep. “Are you all right?”

“Never been better!” Luigi insisted, overly bright. The bone-crushing hug had woken him up a little, but now he was using his I’m definitely lying but maybe if I speak at a much higher volume, no one will be able to tell voice. “We were just, y’know, real busy making sure everyone on the block could still…flush their toilets! Everyone forgets how important that is. Can ya believe it?”

“And we had to make sure our friends got home safely too,” Mario jumped in, rubbing his mom’s back with his free hand as she continued to hold on for dear life. You get temporarily swallowed by a giant, man-eating plant in front of your parents one time… “But we’re definitely not going anywhere for the rest of the night, and Aunt Marie said something about leftover food, if you can forgive us…?”

“Of course, of course.” She finally stepped back, but not before one good, firm pinch of the cheek between her fingers for each of them. “You’ve worked so hard, my brave boys. You must be about ready to turn inside out from hunger already. Sit, sit, I’ll bring it to you—”

“Actually, Ma,” Mario interjected as gingerly as possible. “It’s been a really, really long day. Could we, uh, maybe take the food in our room? I know, I know, you don’t like that, but if anything gets messy, I’ll take care of it, promise—” 

“Ya can’t be serious!” Uncle Tony spoke up all of a sudden, his chair screeching against the floor as he jumped up. “You two still gotta give us the whole rundown of where ya been! Where did that angry, spikey dragon-turtle-guy even come from?”

“And the tiny kid who looked like a big ole mushroom with legs!” Uncle Arthur added.

“What about that giant monkey in the tie?” Aunt Marie piped up, half-laughing in sheer disbelief as she came back into the room. “He could talk! And not just little words, no — if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was hittin’ on me.”

“Look, I get it, I get it,” Mario insisted as good-naturedly as he could manage. He started to inch towards the hallway with Luigi in tow, who he could feel becoming jittery from all the new noise. All he needed was a few good, firm excuses, a clear escape route, and they were home-free. “It was pretty crazy stuff, right? But seriously, we’re dead on our feet as it is—” 

“Then sit down already and take a load off!” Uncle Tony insisted right back. “We’ll make coffee!” 

“Nooooo, no coffee for me. Now!? I-I think I might shake right out of my skin if, “Luigi started to joke, only to squeak when Uncle Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to steer him around anyway.

“C’moooon! A story like this can’t wait,” Uncle Arthur groaned. “This is the wildest thing that’s happened since Gramps’ teeth were eaten by that dog on the subway! Have some pity for your elders and their boring lives.” 

“We’ll tell ya all about it tomorrow, I swear!” Mario said a little louder, desperately trying to sound casual even as the words scraped up his throat. It was too loud, too bright. A new wave of dizziness swam over him; everything was starting to seem more and more like a dream, his vision smearing at the edges. The only thing that still felt solid, real was his hold on Luigi. He stayed focused on it like a lifeline, even as they were jostled around. “And you’ll understand then why we need to sleep for a million years and then some, I swear, ‘cause we, we’ve really gone through the ringer here...”

“Don’t you think you’ll feel better if you just sit down for a minute?” Ma asked, smiling warmly. “Besides, I wanted to know a little more about that princess—”

“Ya gotta eat anyway!” Uncle Arthur downed what was left of his glass in one swig. “Don’t make us beg!” 

“Forget the coffee. We’ll break out the Sangiovese and that’ll loosen you up real good,” Uncle Tony snickered.

Their uncle grabbed at Luigi again, pulling him along harder this time — hard enough that he panicked, his flailing hand struggling for a better grip on Mario’s before they were ripped apart. And that reminded Mario’s fuzzy, exhausted brain of something. A feeling he didn’t know how to describe in words but that cut into him like a knife between his ribs just the same, bone-deep and blindsiding and instantly overwhelming. He thought of—

(pink clouds and faint swirling light and green pipes and weird wind tunnels he could practically swim through and black shadows like soot in the air and lava glowing and Luigi shouting his name, Luigi panicking as he tried to calm him down, Luigi’s hand warm and snug against his because nothing could hurt them if they were together and nothing was going to separate them as long as Mario was strong enough, steady enough to make it that way but then there was a sound like thunder and the pressure grew and grew and grew and grew and GREW AND)

His body acted on its own. With both hands, he wrenched Luigi back towards him a few stumbling steps, out of Uncle Tony’s hands. “No!” He yelled, a hoarse, guttural sound. 

Silence, save for car horns on the street outside.

Clarity came over Mario in a slow, creeping wave, quickly turning into a feeling of horror as he registered the way everyone had frozen in place around him, staring with wide, frightened eyes. Even their parents looked stricken. Luigi’s tired expression had flooded with worry too, but there was a glint of something warmer there as well — understanding. I felt it, his eyes said to Mario, as clear as day. I remembered too.

“I-I’m sorry, but we really, REALLY need to take a rain check, all right?” That was Luigi, breaking the silence, talking way more assertively than he usually ever did at home. Most of the time, the others drowned him out, but now, he had everyone’s undivided attention, insistently pointing with his one free hand that wasn’t still clinging to Mario’s. “We, me and Mario here, are a little loopy, all right? Not thinking straight in the least! It’s been a hard day — a hard couple of days! Three days, in fact! Maybe three days, or two! Heck, I don’t even know what day it is anymore! That’s how out of whack we are! Do ya get it already!?” 

“Easy there, Lu,” Mario whispered. There was so much frantic gesturing going on that Luigi was starting to throw himself off-balance, swaying dangerously. He still felt ashamed, raw inside from the outburst, but Luigi jumping in had lessened it to the point that he could breathe again, at least. His amazing brother really was full of surprises today, it seemed. “But he’s right. I…it’s just been a lot."

Some glances were shared around the table. Surprisingly, it was Uncle Tony who spoke up first. 

“Y’know what? You do look like you’d be shoo-ins for a zombie movie, no makeup needed.” He clapped them lightly on the shoulders one more time and then sat back down with a backwards wave of the hand. “Don’t worry about us. Go on, get out of here.”

“Get plenty of rest,” Aunt Marie said, her smile plainly apologetic. 

“Man, that just gave me deja-vu like nobody’s business,” Uncle Arthur laughed. “Remember when they were tiny, Tony? We couldn’t peel them off each other for anything in the world.” 

“Oh man, do I,” Tony snorted. “Not without them scratching and screeching like stray cats! Might as well have made you two — whaddya call it again? — conjoined twins and saved a couple steps.” 

“There was that one time we were babysitting at the park down the street—” 

Mario didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. “Come on,” a familiar, gruff voice said near his ear, followed by two large arms herding him and Luigi away, their mother following close behind. “Get yourselves into the kitchen already.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Mario couldn’t help but insist once they were there, heels squeaking on the faded linoleum. Several of his stern talking-to’s over the years had started out much like this in the past; speaking up right away and defending himself before the inevitable yelling happened was practically second nature. “I didn’t mean to yell, I swear, it was just—”

“Never mind that,” the older man cut him off. There was something soft in his tone, softer than Mario could remember hearing it before, and that was when he realized that he'd misread the situation entirely. His dad's eyes were dark with concern, not anger. "Now come on. Give me your gloves, and shoes too. Both of you."

Mario and Luigi glanced at each other and then down at themselves in confused unison, dimly registering that yes, they were still wearing all of that, having forgotten to take everything off at the door like they usually did. Some slow shuffling later, and it was gathered in a pile. Their dad plucked their hats off their heads as well (also missed), tucking everything in the sturdy crook of one arm. He used his free hand to ruffle their hair and pat their faces, one after the other.

"You did good out there," he said, "but what matters most is that you're all right. That's always gonna be what matters most to us. I just," he swallowed slowly, thickly, "I want to make sure you both know that."

For one very brittle moment, as his dad held his face in his big, warm palm, Mario genuinely didn't trust himself to not start either laughing or sobbing right then and there — maybe a crazy mixture of both. The feeling passed, thankfully, but he still managed a wobbly smile, a small nod.

“Now go and wash up. Ma will get the food ready.” Sure enough, their mother was already bustling around like a madwoman, plates clattering and half-empty pots simmering again on the stove. “Luigi, you first. Datti una mossa.” 

“Yessir!” Luigi looked back at Mario before going, a tired, reassuring, still slightly worried look that said I’ll see you in a couple of minutes, okay? Mario reflected it back, and their dad walked Luigi out of the room, towards the hallway.

“Just promise me you’ll tell us what happened tomorrow, all right?” Mario's attention returned to his mother, who was finishing stirring some reheated sauce with a little too much shaky speed before coming over to him, smushing his cheeks in both hands. “I don’t care how old you two get. You're still my babies, and babies shouldn't keep secrets from their poor mother."

“I promise, I promise! You’re gonna pop my teeth out, Ma!” Mario half-laughed, gently tugging at her wrists so he could talk more clearly. “Definitely tomorrow, okay? Right now, I…I don’t know if I could tell ya if I tried. It’s just a crazy blur, and I really gotta process it all myself, still. We just need a little time."

“I understand.” She drew him into another hug. Mario couldn’t help but sink into the familiar warmth, clinging to her. He’d been so worried about Luigi that he’d never even considered the idea that he might never see his parents again either. The realization hit harder than he’d anticipated. “Besides, I know I have nothing to worry about when you two are together. You do such a good job of looking after your brother.” 

(Or even worse, what if he’d been able to come home in the end — but alone? What if he’d had to sit his parents down and tell them that Luigi was…) 

There it was again — that sudden, sour feeling of wanting to cry, such a heavy wave inside him that he had to clench his teeth to the point of pain to hold back a gasp.

Stupid, he thought bitterly, almost angrily. What did he even have to be crying about? Once again, he weathered the rush, kept the walls intact by a hair. He closed his eyes and just let himself be held.

“Of course, Ma,” he croaked. “Always.” 

#mario movie #super mario bros movie #super mario bros #mario and luigi #cherrysip fic #i am SUCH a big Mario and Luigi's Family Apologist you don't even know lol #they just remind me of my own family so much #when you have a big family the sheer number of people makes it really easy to lose things in the shuffle #especially when you're ALSO a family that ruthlessly teases each other about things like mine does #it is sometimes very hard to tell when something has gone too far or someone just isn't in the mood until the breaking point #but once that does hit i'd like to think that everyone takes it seriously in their family and backs off and reinforces the love first #next part will be longer and will just be mario and luigi! #thank YOU for reading <3 <3 <3

[babyblueetbaemonster]

A fanart for @hannahcbrown's Oblivion fic Thiefguard!

They're having the Cheydinhal's famous thirty layer cake

#tes #oblivion #hero of kvatch #garrus darelliun #lecrinn #friend's cute ocs #thiefguard #it's based on the post down below. like a continuance of the fic when garrus all dressed up #and the post down down below talk about the thirty layer cake in cheydinhal which inspired me to let them have cake #and i agreed with you of the thirty layer cake thing. the rich of cheydinhal had gone too far XD #i'm not sure what exactly does the thirty layer cake looks like #i use the reference of crepe cake i hope they're not that different haha #the translation of crepe cake in my country means thousand layer cake. i'm not going to count it. like duh #but if they said thirty layer. i can count to thirty and imma count it! XD

[avvail-whumps]

‘guns for hire’ — last chance #36

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, conditioned whumpee, mentioned past character death, whipping scars, stockholm syndrome

Leo should probably stop picking at his fingers, but he couldn’t help himself.

The room he’d been taken into was cold, and dim, not providing much colour apart from the dark grey and blue paint on the walls. He could sometimes see his reflection in the mirror when he glanced up, but for the most part, his eyes were trained solely on his lap.

He couldn’t even begin to piece his thoughts together right now. It felt as though everything had come crumbling down on him, and he could only think about the fact that Roy was somewhere in the building that wasn’t next to him.

His hands were trembling, itching to see him again. It gave him that same anxiety as to when the other mercenaries were still wandering around, and he needed to be close to Roy just to ease the fear in his heart. Like he was always there to protect him.

Leo could already feel the burning sting of humiliation lingering in his chest.

The phantom touches of their hands on his body, examining each and every scar on his skin, as well as the sharp click of the camera’s under stark white light. Tears threatened to burn his eyes from the violating memories, the comfort of a long jacket drawled over his shoulders.

He was worried about Roy. He was worried about being separated for any longer. He was worried about what was going to happen to him. There was nobody in the room, and there hadn’t been for a while. Leo didn’t bother to look at the clock, too agitated by himself, only occupied by the nervous picking of his hangnails to think about anything else.

The opening of the door startled him more than it should have, and his puffy eyes snapped up to the entrance with a jolt. His eyeslashes were still clumped, the damp wetness evident with tears tracks down his cheeks. The man that entered was the one he vaguely recognised when he was sitting in the backseat of the car. Leo had been so out of it at the time, that he barely remembered anything from being dragged out of the house to the journey to the station.

The man looked intimidating. He reminded him of the bearded mercenary a little bit, with the stone cold expression and dark facial hair. He quietly took a seat at the opposite end of the table, but Leo kept his eyes in his lap instead.

He hated this. Every single second of being here; he just wished he could go back to his home, and cook something for him and Roy, and they could just lounge on the sofa eating dinner until they fell asleep. It was all Leo wanted right now.

“Do you need another glass of water?” The man finally spoke. Leo abandoned his hangnail to look at the glass. It was still full. “I can get you something else if you’d like.”

He weakly shrugged his shoulders. “I’m okay.”

The man nodded slowly his head, but by then, Leo was occupied by his lap again. The rapid thumping was heavy in his chest, unable to stop himself from fidgeting every few seconds. The sound of paper being slid along the table almost broke him from his nervousness. His sore eyes flickered up for a moment as the man began to speak again.

“I’m Detective Sharpe,” he spoke, his voice calm and smooth. “I’m here to ask you a few questions, alright, kid? We can go at your pace.”

Leo jerkily nodded his head. The man, Sharpe, tapped his finger on the table to draw his attention to the various photos. His eyes bounced along each one, swallowing the dry lump in his throat. One of them was Roy, and he felt like his heart was constricting painfully on the spot.

“In your own time, can you identify the man who took you from these photographs?” Sharpe asked quietly, his voice softened around the edges. For such an intimidating looking man, he didn’t feel so scared in his presence. Still, Leo knew he wouldn’t get his life back with Roy if he wasn’t careful. His fingers wound through the dark, navy blue sweatpants he’d been given, the emblem of the police department on the side.

“There was, uh,” he let out a shuddering breath, wiping the back of his hand on his clammy forehead. Most of the photos were of people he didn’t recognise, bar three of them. Roy, Bran, and Beard. There was a clear absence of Joey, or even Rafi. “There was more than one.”

Sharpe’s eyes darted up, pinned to his grimacing face. His stomach churned under his gaze, gripping so tightly onto the sweatpants that his knuckles had gone white.

“More than one?” The detective echoed, his face stoic. “Are they here?”

Leo nodded. Tears burned his eyes he let out a shuddering breath, trembling finger coming up to point at the picture of Bran. Just seeing his face made his cells burn with a wanton anger.

“He...He’s the one who killed Jacob,” he whispered quietly, taking a second to pause and keep his wobbling voice under control. “I-I saw his face, and he...that’s when he took me.”

Sharpe’s eyes darkened a little bit, and he quickly looked away. A long, drawn out sigh escaped his lips, and he pulled out a small notepad and pen from his breast pocket, opening it up. Despite showing clear signs of annoyance, his voice was awfully quiet and gentle as he continued to press him.

“Take your time,” he hummed. Leo kept his eyes on the photos, constantly flickering back to the one of Roy with a sinking heart.

He moved onto the one of Beard quickly enough. “There was two others. Him, a-and someone else.”

Sharpe scanned the pictures. “And that third person isn’t pictured here?”

The secretary rapidly shook his head. “No. No, he’s not.”

The detective tapped the back of the pen on the paper, before leaning forward and moving away the photos of the unfamiliar suspects. That only left Bran, Roy and Beard in front of him. The mercenary had told him to leave Joey out of it. If there was anyone Leo would be happy not throwing under the bus, it would be him. The cigerette burned brightly on his shoulder, but he wasn’t going to disobey Roy. At least Joey had never been as cruel.

Roy’s photo was still there, Leo noted. Clearly, Sharpe wasn’t completely convinced just yet. The door opened once more, and other detective stepped in. It was a woman this time, but her presence didn’t stop Sharpe from keeping his focused concentration on the task at hand.

“Okay, kid. I get that this is going to be hard, but we’re going to need you to describe some things for us,” the man spoke, leaning forward on the table. Leo bit his lip softly, drawing the jacket closer to himself. “Could you give us some details, please? Did you know where you were being kept?”

Leo desperately shook his head. The woman took a seat beside Sharpe, placing a plastic wallet with multiple pages and photos inside on the table. His eyes shot to the door, feeling uncomfortableness creeping under his skin.

“I don’t know,” he choked, swallowing uneasily. His mind went straight back to the basement. The horrible terror he felt just at the very thought of being down there for as long as he was stirred in his brain, clamping down on his lungs. “They kept me in some...some dark room. They would come down and they would...”

Leo choked on a gasp, pressing his hands into his eyes. “God, I don’t, I can’t—”

The woman finally stepped in, and he felt a hand on his shoulder, flinching violently away like he’d been burnt. He felt a little guilty when remorse flashed across her face, and she moved back once more.

“Hey, Leo,” she murmured, blinking him out of the memories. The crack of the whip, the seizing pain from the shock collar around his neck. He tried to ignore Roy’s taunting words, instead reminding himself of the time alone with the mercenaries. Because whatever Roy did, he did because Leo broke the rules. At least that was fair. Right?

“I know this is hard,” the woman sighed, her voice dripping with raw sympathy. “You’re safe now. You’re away from them. Nothing is going to happen.”

Leo scrubbed away the tears, wiping his face with shaking hands. He managed a nod, keeping his eyes on the photos instead. She and Sharpe exchanged brief looks with each other that Leo couldn’t quite decipher in time. As he was talking, the woman slid the plastic file over to the Sharpe, who plucked it up.

“I just...” He pressed his hands to his mouth, squeezing them tightly. The table was cold against his elbows. “I don’t want to—”

“That’s fine,” Sharpe cut in, his eyes fixated on the various photos he’d pulled out. He was flicking through them, narrowed eyes seemingly scanning every single detail. Leo pried his aching eyes open, wiping his nose. “We know. You don’t have to go into any details.”

Leo groaned, letting his head fall back into his hands. It was so humiliating.

“Leo, do you mind showing me your wrist, please?”

He swallowed, keeping his eyes pinched shut. “What?”

Sharpe’s eyes turned cold all of a sudden, and he placed the photos he’d been looking at flat on the table. He caught a glimpse of one of them, showing the long, deep scars from the whip along his back.

“Let us see your wrist,” the detective repeated, this time a lot firmer.

“Steven,” the woman quietly warned, but she was promptly ignored.

“I’m asking you to corporate.”

Leo hiccuped softly, his eyes falling back down to his lap. His fingers itched, the scar from Roy’s knife suddenly flaring against his skin. He hesitantly began peeling the jacket back, before showing it to the detectives. His lips stayed permanently curved into a frown, feeling shame prick the back of his neck after a while. He quickly hid it away again.

Sharpe nodded his head, flicking one of the photos on the table. The one of the initial on his wrist.

“R for Roy, am I right?” The detective pressed, making Leo wince. “Look, kid. I don’t know your reasoning for protecting him, but you’re safe. There’s no way he can hurt you again.”

The secretary’s voice was frustratingly quiet, unable to find the strength in his voice to speak any louder.

“It wasn’t him,” he quietly whispered. Sharpe sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat.

“Come on, kid...”

“The R, it was for...” His throat closed up, shivering. “It was for...Rafi.”

The detective stared at him.

“Rafi,” he repeated slowly, shaking his head. “And, what? Was that the perpetrator that isn’t on these photos?”

Leo nodded hastily.

“Right,” the man scoffed, shaking his head as he gathered the photo up and popped it back into the plastic wallet. A long sigh escaped his lips once more as he turned towards the woman, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him.

“Could you identity the names of the men in these photos, Leo?” She asked, much softer than the other, motioning towards Bran and Beard. Leo did, to the best of his ability, considering Beard’s name was still a complete mystery to him. It wasn’t like that mattered much anyway. She nodded once he was done, eyes flickering over to Sharpe. There was a hint of annoyance in them.

“Okay, kid,” the man coughed, gaining his attention once again. “Tell us about Roy Gatlin. Why were you at his house if he didn’t have anything to do with your kidnapping? Tell us slowly and carefully.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek, trying to scramble his thoughts together. The story before had at least been mostly the truth. The pain he’d suffered at their hands wasn’t so easy to forget, or even fake. But his heartbeat was starting to rise out of nervousness now. Because this was really what could separate the two of them permanently, and he didn’t want that.

“They told me that they weren’t planning on keeping me alive,” he whispered softly, clearing his throat. “I...I got out and I ran.”

“Ran?” Sharpe parroted. “Did you see the place you were being held?”

“No,” the secretary choked. “It was too dark. There was just trees for so far out and I didn’t think twice about running. I-I just panicked...”

He shifted uncomfortably, remembering the anxiety of the chase when he’d made it into the forest. The burning desire to make it home, even if it wasn’t in one piece. He swallowed that down for the sake of finding his voice once again.

“I found a road, and...and someone was—”

Leo cut himself off. The screeching of tires and the smack of the boot crippling against the tree stirred in his mind, and his fingers dug into his disheveled hair in horror. Burning tears slipped down his cheeks as he recalled Michael’s face.

“It was my fault,” he sobbed. “Oh, god. I-I...I got him killed...”

The woman was at his side in a second, and she tentatively placed her hand on his back. Leo was shaking visibly under her palm, and he quickly pressed his hands into his face to hide his shame.

“Who, Leo?” Sharpe asked softly. He choked on a breath, his chest rattling.

“He said his name was Michael,” he sniffled, pain stabbing at his lungs. “I-I asked him for help. He was driving me away, but...but Bran he—” The jarring smash of glass. Blood running down the wheel. He sobbed quietly. “Bran shot him.”

The detective’s eyes both snapped up towards each other.

“Michael Bardin?” The woman murmured, and Sharpe grimly nodded his head.

“Shit. I think so.”

Leo clenched his jaw, sucking in a sharp breath through his cheeks, and leaning away from the woman’s touch. She let him go without any resistance, her expression morphing into deep sympathy once again.

“That wasn’t your fault, Leo,” she assured, but the words didn’t reach him at all. He frantically shook his head, murmuring incoherently under his breath. It was his fault Michael had died. He’d been the one to kill him, whether he pulled the trigger or not. Roy had said so; Leo believed it. If it wasn’t for him, Michael would have returned home and lived his life how he should have. It was his fault.

“It was,” he croaked. “I killed him.”

The detective seemed to tap his pen harshly against the notepad, his beady eyes staring at the notes he had taken earlier. Leo wasn’t quite sure if he had already spoken to Roy, but judging from his unhappy expression, then the secretary was more than likely doing a good job at making their stories match so far. With that thought spurring him on, he managed to swallow the shaking nerves and continue.

“After the car crashed, I followed these lights for...for ages,” he sniffled, slowly blinking away the tears in his eyes. “I made it to his house, and he...he helped me out. I was scared asking him for help was going to get him killed too, but I was so desperate...”

The woman nodded her head, and turned back towards Sharpe. The man was staring at the notepad in discontent, before she caught his disgruntled attention.

“Steven, can I have a word outside?”

Despite her smile, even Leo could hear the obvious anger in her voice. She didn’t wait for him to follow her out, and instead promptly left the room. When she was gone, Sharpe slowly rose to his feet. The secretary’s puffy eyes met his, and the man leaned forward as if in confidentiality.

“I know it was Roy who took you,” he murmured, and Leo’s heart palpitated. “I know he’s cooked up an elaborate story for you to follow, and I know these other people were most likely involved too. But, listen, kid.”

Despite the fear creeping up his spine, Leo did.

“If you don’t tell us the truth, then he’s going to walk free,” Sharpe told him, firm and concise, completely to the point. “I need you to tell me, kid. Identify that it was Roy who kidnapped you the night he murdered Jacob. You can put him away for good. Please, kid.”

Leo opened his mouth to protest, but something caught in his throat. The man’s eyes were piercing so deeply into his, that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His mind was tossing all that information over in his head with brutal force. I know it was Roy who took you.

There was no doubt in his voice.

And he was right. Because Roy had taken him, and all he had to do was admit that. Then everything would unravel. Roy would be behind bars.

Some part of Leo lunged at the very opportunity.

“It...” His voice dried up, glossy eyes staring deeply within Sharpe’s. The man had this determined, encouraging look on his face. He could feel his resolve crumbling. One leap was all it would take. Just one leap.

“It wasn’t him.”

The words came out of his mouth before he could think. His eyes lowered to his lap, slumping in the seat.

“It was Bran,” he whispered, picking at his fingers anxiously. “I swear.”

The detective’s eyes closed shut, and a long, disappointed sigh escaped him. He moved himself away from the desk without a word, and left the room. Once the door clicked shut, Leo felt a tear slip down his cheek, and hastily wiped it away.

Just a little bit longer, and he could finally see Roy. That made it all worth it.

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight @enigmawritesstuff @reverie1234 @obsessedsplicer505

#guns for hire #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #whump series #whump fic #whump tropes #conditioned whumpee #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #leo and roy #my writing #writing #avvail whumps #uh oh lol #poor boy is too far gone

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - The Tattoo

A/N: I have the couple blurb requests and they should be out tomorrow, but I came across this piece I started a while ago and decided to finish. If you are reading the fic - consider this a bonus chapter (set after the yet to be released part 55), if not, don’t worry, this can be a stand alone piece. It doesn't have any plot, just pure smut.

Warnings: Smut (fingering, p in v, creampie), dirty talk, swearing, a slight dom/sub dynamic, not really edited

Series masterlist

Word Count: 1300

It’s almost midnight when Auston finally returns home after a long road trip, and he finds something he did not expect.

He stops in the doorway, noticing the bedside lamps are still on, casting macabre shadows up the wall behind her. His eyes narrow as they land on her wearing a tight navy-blue crop top, the material barely sufficient to cover the swell of her breasts poking out from underneath where it’s purposely pushed up. Her hair is up in a high pony, and she sits with knees bent, backs of her thighs on her heels.

“Hi baby.” Tia says so innocently. They both know this is nothing but.

“You’re awake.” The bag lands with a loud thud and Auston sweater quickly joins her pants on the floor, wrinkled and forgotten.

“I missed you.”

Tia spreads her legs opens a little bit more, putting her pussy on display for him. The warm glow from the bedside lamp hits her pussy lips, and her slick shines back perfectly for him. It’s at that moment Auston notices the bullet vibrator tossed on the duvet a few inches away and smiles, “missed you too.”

The bed dips as Auston crawls on the mattress until he is right in front of her, then puts one hand on her thigh, smirking as Tia continues to knead at her breast. Auston’s cock throbs as he watches and listens to the soft moans caught in her throat. He slowly draws his fingers along her pussy lips, coating them in the slick, then sinks two in, reveling in the sharp gasp that breaks through.

“Just like that.” Auston encourages her once he feels her hips roll and grind over his digits, all while her shirt gets tossed aside. “Keep going,” Auston repeats, gripping her hip to encourage the movements. Tia continues to tug at her nipples, rolling them through her fingers, doing all the things she spent the last week wishing Auston would do. Her breathes are heavy and sporadic, walls are tingling as she builds up to her second orgasm.

“Auston.” She stills her body and forces her eyes open. Her body aches in anticipation and even with his fingers buried, she still craves his touch, and finds herself wishing she’d never have to be without it again. “Fuck me please?”

It wasn’t going to take much once he saw her, but the desperation in her words makes him eager to please. He pulls his fingers out and kicks his trackpants down his thick thighs, cock already rock hard. He grabs at his cock and puts his other hand on her shoulder, preparing to lay her down.

“No.” Tia demands. She flips over and leans on her elbows and brings her ass up, then eyes to him over her shoulder. “Like this.”

Auston doesn’t dislike this position, he loves it. It comes with a perfect view and he can hit spots even deeper than usual. Tia tends to get off faster and harder than when he’s on top, and those sounds he has coming both sets of lips are unlike anything he’s ever heard. He loves everything about this position, except he can’t watch. And as much a he loves to find the spot that makes her squirm, the spot that has on occasion made her squirt all over his cock, the spot that makes her scream, he hates not being able to see it. That’s why he prefers this position in the bathroom, bent over the vanity as she looks at him through the mirror, but he hasn’t seen her in almost a week and the throb in his cock overpowers every desire.

They both groan in unison when Auston buries himself inside, then curse when he pulls out almost completely and pushes back in. He grabs at her hip and sets a fast and deep pace, the bed creaking with every thrust.

“Fuck. Yes.” Tia moans, only encouraging him to not stop until her ass is against his stomach, every millimetre of him buried in her walls. “Right there.” She grabs handfuls of the duvet and arches her back further, smudging her face against the white fabric.

“This what you wanted?” He punctuates with a firm thrust against her g-spot, then grins when she lets out a muffled scream.

He stops for a second and grabs the vibrator, and with his other hand he clenches her pony and yanks, pulling her back against his chest. The hum of her toy starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to press it to her swollen bud, something catches his eye. A simple tattoo. It’s small and tucked right behind her ear, if her hair was down, he wouldn’t even know it’s there.

Auston completely stops and gently soothes his thumb over the number 34, lined in black and filled with white ink. “When’d you get that?”

Heat floods her cheeks. It was an impulse decision, one that came after too many drinks at girls’ night. Tia doesn’t even remember suggesting it or why nobody said no, but Abby stayed behind to watch the kids while Tia, Emily and Becks ventured out the only parlour open at 11pm. When she saw it the next morning she had some regret, not because she dislikes it but because she was worried what Auston may think, branding herself with his number. She considered hiding it, and casually bringing up the idea to gauge his opinion, but at the last second decided it would be best to just rip the bandaid off.

“The day after you left.” She takes a deep breath, not because she is nervous but because dating an athlete often reveals how poor her cardio is. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” Auston quickly tells her, rubbing his thumb over the ink again.

“Really?” She starts. “You don’t think it makes me seem like a desperate fangirl, getting your number on me?”

“Not in the slightest.” He speaks softly, gently kissing her neck while avoiding the tattoo in case its still sensitive. “It’s hot.” He presses the vibrator to her swollen bud and continues gently pressing his lips to her neck. “I love it.”

Tia moans as he increases the speed and presses it harder against her clit. She gasps when he moves his hips, once again thrusting deep and hard. Her breasts bounce and her skin tingles from the lingering touch of his lips.

“Yeah?

“Yeah, you should wear your hair like that all the time.” Auston grunts deeply amid a rough thrust. “Make sure everyone knows that your mine.” Her tight walls start to pulsate around his cock. “That I get to fuck this pussy every night, fill you with my hot cum.” Her breathing has been replaced with whines and her legs are trembling so hard her ass shakes. “That’s what you want, right?” Auston thrusts so hard her vision floods with tears. “Isn’t it T?” The vibrator and his cock are perfectly in tune with each other, and she is practically rendered speechless, but manages a choked out ‘yes.’

“Then cum baby.” Auston demands. “Cum so I can fill you up. I know you want me to.”

It’s almost condescending the way he speaks, but Tia doesn’t mind - she knew what she was doing while preparing herself ready for his return. Auston continues to drive against her g-spot, her hungry walls greedily sucking him in until she reaches her peak. His other arm wraps around her shoulders and the two of them simultaneously erupt. The sound of the vibrator is drowned by her squeal as his sticky cum fills her pussy and she spills around his cock.

“Should greet me like that all the time.” Auston turns the vibrator off and drops it on the bed, continuing to pant heavily against her shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@youtxbemusic @nicoleloveshockey @emsully2002 @hockeypuckspottspot @ashleymarine @albal321 @b34ut1fulb4st4rds @biznastysloneshift12 @burkylover @c-tangerine @canadian-girl87 @crazzyfann @dana-hqy @delighttfulll @evawest5 @every-beautifulthing-thereis @greendragonzz @heatherawoowoo @hockeybabe87 @hockeyinaussie @hockeyisit @hockeypuckedmeup @je-ne-regrette-rien @jakekisska @partypoison00 @princesscameston @puccbunni @queenmarvel21 @sixmapleleafs @starswin @trashforbarzal @0kikina0 @1-fuzzy-squirrels @janeydeaux @stuff4me2do @callsign-denmark @monnbc @simpgirl-lat @huneyjojo221 @idfan21 @elly-dx @samanthasgone @holyalfalfasprout @lwstuff @mattyzmarner @ashloveshockey

#Too Far Gone #Auston Matthews #Auston Matthews fic #Auston Matthews smut #NHL Smut #Too Far Gone Fic #too far gone #auston matthews imagine #hockey fic #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #Auston Matthews OC #TFG #hockey fanfiction #auston matthews!dad fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fic

[jamiesfootball]

I wish you would write a fic where..

Jamie becomes the captain - I'd love to see him in that kind of leadership role where he has to be responsible for other people (that's why I'd also like to see him become a coach someday) or

Jamie wins some kind of award so I can see Roy and the rest of his family be proud of him :))

In the hours since you have sent this to me, I have devised a fic that somehow combines both of these things -- but in a way that no one but me has ever asked for.

How do we feel about Jamie winning a Webby?

At age thirty-three, Jamie Tartt takes a bad tackle on his right ankle, slamming the door on a career that’s been nothing less than show stopping. He takes the news that he’ll never play again like a champ--which is to say he takes it better than Roy did—and only spends a week sobbing into Roy’s couch cushion that his life is over. On the eighth day, he clomps and crutches his way into the kitchen. He fires up the live feed on whatever app he’s obsessed with now. With three days worth of stubble and bags under his eyes from crying, he announces to the world at large that he’s about to try, ‘Every damn TikTok recipe that I've missed out on because it's been outside of my meal plan for the past twenty-fucking-years.’ And so his new career as ‘obnoxious wastrel who tries to burn down Roy kitchen’ is born.

#too late I already started writing it #it's about 50% food related calamity and 50% roy absolutely bursting at the seams with pride #as he looks back on everything jamie's achieved so far in life #this will be a gift to me and you - but only if you choose to accept #i will not make you accept. any of this #but it's about 600 words so far and I'm having a blast #writing progress #ask box game #ask box game gone awry #roy kent #jamie tartt #the tiktok recipe / jamie's career retrospective fic

[akuma-tenshi]

i was thinking about how teenagers often look like grown-ass adults in fiction (and are often played by adults in live-action work) and i realised ithaqua kinda has the opposite issue. at least imo.

look at this baby-faced motherfucker. look at him. i don't know how much time passes between this and his whole going insane thing but i know it's not much considering the fact that he's seen later looking pretty much exactly the same shortly before becoming a hunter.

he looks slightly older but still very young in this shot. it may be just the angle or his expression but he still does look like a teenager.

and he looks slightly older here too, which again i believe is the expression because again—

HE LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING BABY IN THE NEXT SHOT

like. a deeply haunted and traumatised baby but a baby nonetheless. by "baby" i mean "mid to late teens" because that's very much a baby when compared to the rest of the cast (plus i'm just calling him a baby bc it's funny). the point of this is that he looks very young when seen without his mask.

even in his concept art, he looks young. he's tall and lanky as hell, sure, but he still has a serious case of babyface.

LOOK AT HIM!!! when he's not doing that face on the far left of the close-up, he looks like a teenager. he looks Baby. and you're telling me he's a grown adult?? i think it's the size of his eyes plus the small smile and the wavy hair, but just in general he looks very young imo.

this isn't a dig at people who headcanon / portray him as older!! i know canonically he's a young adult (i'd imagine early to mid twenties?? that's where i always imagine "young adult" falling) and i'm very much in the minority here lmao. but i will always see this fucked up lil mama's boy as no older than nineteen tbh

sorry i love talking about him so much i've been writing him lately and he's so much fun once you get into his troubled little head

#him being nineteen also gives him a connection with grace who is also nineteen!! #and if you know me you know i love platonic ithagrace with my whole heart #sorry i can't shut up about this i will forever consider him as a fucked up little teenager #this little gremlin wants to be feared so bad i love him #anyway ask me about my ithaqua fic i'm working on please #rambling #idv #identity v #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #also NONE of this is meant to come off as infantilising or “aww look at the widdol baby” or anything like that #i'm well aware he has killed not only his brother but also just random “trespassers” in the forest #i'm well aware he's lost his humanity and is way too far gone at this point #but fuck man. i can't see him as older. not with his baby face and silly little giggles and clicky stilts and idle animations #he gives me cuteness aggression

[kiirotoao]

I’m not a dreamer, but damn, if I don’t dream about Byer’s future, I am nothing.

I dream about Will one day saying, “kiss me” to an already smitten Mike. Him confidently knowing that he is loved and being unafraid to ask for outward affection and Mike returning it. I dream of Mike biking home from work every day and announcing, “I’m home” just so Will can hear him. Will smiles tiredly as he greets him in the kitchen, and Mike can’t help but smile right back as they talk into the endless night. I dream of the pair owning a condo, a flat, maybe even a home, all on their own and calling each other over to come cuddle. I dream of them getting a cat and naming them Yoda. I dream of them getting engaged. I dream of them renewing their vows in that safe haven.

I don’t even think this far into my own future. I’d say to send help, but I can’t stop enjoying these dreams. There’s nothing to save me from. They are my happy place right now.

#byler #byler brainrot #byler headcanons #them your honor #I looked back at my first byler fic and was absolutely gobsmacked that I wrote it in 2022 #the year went by so fast because of this mystic small town show #an adage #and ode #an ‘oh god what is wrong with me’ #I’m too far gone

[hannah-heartstrings]

Sweet Surprise

During a trip to Skingrad, Lecrinn and Garrus decide to surprise each other. Early in the timeline, though I'm not actually sure how canon it is.

The lost sweetroll prompt fic. I spent half a month writing this, finished it, and went "meh." By then I'd worked on it to the point of not being able to tell if it was good or not, and I still can't tell.

So I'll just release it into the wild and you can tell me. (I do know some things I do and don't like but I decided to keep them to the tags.) From October 2022 but I'm still accepting concrit on it.

@druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed

---------

            Cradling two sweet rolls in one hand Lecrinn held them close as she pushed the heavy door with the other. She opened it just enough to slip out, leaving the chatter and warmth of the busy inn for the street outside. It was also busy and warm but more tolerably so.

            She squinted against the afternoon sun. Now that she had the sweet rolls it was time to find Garrus, after she dragged him all the way from Cheydinhal to Skingrad it was only right he get something out of it.

            The roads were narrow between the tall stone buildings that arched above them. She weaved through their hustle and bustle. The street widened out into a fork, forward continued to more buildings and to the left, a statue of a horseman. There gazing up at the statue she found Garrus.

            Catching her from the corner of his eye he turned and beamed at her.

            She couldn’t help but smile back.

            “I have a surprise for you,” he said as she walked up.

            “So do I!” She stopped, both their smiles falling at the sweet rolls in the other’s hands. Looking back up at the other’s face they gave laughing smiles.

            “I suppose we had the same idea,” he shifted.

            She shrugged. “It’s a good idea.” His smile looked forced, he seemed to feel awkward, she didn’t know why and it was making her feel awkward too. “Well… this one’s yours,” she held one out and they swapped, both laughing a little. She noticed he only held one. “Did you already eat yours?”

            “I uh,” he glanced down, “I don’t know how much money this trip will end up costing so I only bought one for you.”

            “Oh…” she looked to her second one.

            “You can keep it.”

            “Nah, lets split it later.”

            “No, you bought it for yourself, you can have it.”

            She walked passed him. “One and a half sweet rolls is still more than I planned on getting.”

            He tilted his head, he supposed that was true. Turning he saw her sitting on the round base of the statue. He looked startled. “Are you allowed to sit there?”

            “I don’t see anyone guarding it.” Pulling the pack off her shoulders and beside her she rifled through it.

            “What if you get in trouble?”

            “Then you can just arrest me.”

            He looked around before going over to sit beside her.

            Finding a small cloth she wrapped up one of the rolls and put it in her pack. She then turned all her attention to the one in her hand, closing her eyes as she took a bite, savoring its sweet spice.

            “Mmm!”

            She looked to Garrus who was looking at his sweet roll surprised.

            “They really are better in Skingrad.”

            “Salmo’s sweet rolls are famous for a reason.”

            “Perhaps we should get more of these before we leave.”

            Her smile widened. “Does Cheydinhal have its own desserts?” She took another bite.

            “There’s the thirty layer cake.”

            She had to quickly swallow the bite. “Thirty layers?”

            “They’re thin.”

            “Why would you ever need thirty layers?!”

            “No, they’re very thin, it isn’t much taller than a regular cake.”

            “Oh… I’m having a hard time picturing it,” she gave a smirk, “I think I’ll have to see it for myself.” The smile turned more genuine. “Is it good?” She took a smaller bite.

            “I haven’t got to try one, they’re expensive.”

            The smile fell. “Oh.”

            “I like the spiced root cake the Dunmer make, and there’s one made from something called marshmerrow, it’s a little too sweet for me but I think you’d like it.”

            “I’ll have to try them next time I’m in town.”

            “I’m also quite fond of the bread they make out of yams, though,” he lowered his voice, “I’ve been afraid to try it with scrib jelly.”

            “What’s that?”

            “…Maybe when you’re done with your sweet roll.”

            Her brows rose.

            As they continued eating she looked around, gaze catching on the red leaves of a nearby tree, its branches bobbing slightly.

            He stared out at the street. “I have been trying to learn more about Dunmer culture, and not judge things that are different too quickly.”

            She smirked to him. “Except for scrib jelly?”

            “Well some things are easier to respect from afar.”

            “Ah.”

            “It is admirable though, because not much grows in the ashlands they have to find food elsewhere and they managed to get multiple food types out of something others wouldn’t see as such, they’re survivors, no matter the situation you put them in.”

            She furrowed her brows. “I really don’t want to know what a scrib is, do I?”

            “No.” Tearing a piece off his sweet roll he rolled it between his fingers. “I hope that learning more about them will help me be a better guard to them, like you said, at the very least, perhaps I’ll be a better man.”

            Her smile lessened but turned more genuine. “You are a good guard.”

            “I hope so, protecting everyone is why I became a guard in the first place.” Eating the bite his eyes lit up. He turned to her. “Does the Merchant Inn still make those blackberry tarts?”

            “What?” She blinked, brain taking a second to keep up with the sudden topic change.

            “I use to get them sometimes when I was training in the Imperial City.”

            “Um…” she glanced off, thinking, before turning back to him. “I don’t know, I’ll check. If they do I’ll bring you some, unless they wouldn’t stay good… Maybe I’ll just have to bring you there,” she smirked.

            “Hopefully that can be soon,” he turned back to his sweet roll.

            She looked surprised. Did he mean he wanted the tarts soon or did he like her dragging him places? She looked away as she couldn’t contain the grin spreading across her face.

            Turning back to him she saw he was staring at his dessert, the same awkward look as when she gave it to him. Seemed whatever had been bothering him never really went away. “What’s wrong?”

            “I am grateful, truly, but since I wanted to surprise you didn’t know what I was doing and bought some too.”

            “So now we have three sweet rolls,” she was confused as to how this was a problem.

            “I just feel bad you had to pay for two.”

            “Oh…” she glanced off with a smirk, “don’t worry about that.”

#tes oc #oblivion fanfiction #oblivion #the elder scrolls #tes #hero of kvatch #garrus darelliun #fanfiction #my writing #lecrinn #thiefguard #i don't think i like how they're talking about dunmer culture #it feels off to me #i do like the last line though #and though this scene might not be canon garrus liking ash yams is because it keeps cropping up in fics that don't get finished 😅 #also when she says he's a good guard i thought it also said she looked sad because he didn't know how much that meant coming from her #but it's not there? or in my cut file? so apparently i didn't write it? #i think it would've been better with it #also their reactions to the thirty layer cake came from me reading about it on uesp and thinking the rich of cheydinhal had gone too far #and my mom pulling up a picture to show me that the layers are paper thin XD

[benevolenterrancy]

I lied about posting art next, my bad. Someone on AO3 was asking me about how I plotted out my MASH/Torchwood crossover, so I said I'd drop a look at my planning doc, for anyone that wants to see what it looks like when I'm going full wall-of-red-string about a fic

I'm very visual, so I used colour-coded tables to help me keep track of things. I basically wanted to ensure I knew the BIG MAIN GOAL for both MASH and Torchwood, followed by the B and C plots that were happening at the same time. Once I knew what was the Main End Goal for everything, I then broke the plotlines down into the plot points that needed to happen to arrive at the End Goals without it feeling random. Then I just assembled those plot points together to ensure that pacing made sense and felt good. Obviously things changed a lot from a planning document and the ultimate end, but that's the gist of it.

#i'm sure no one cares about this but i do love getting to chatter about my blorbos and art and shit so here we are #bene speaks #fanfiction #to be clear i do not normally go this far into a planning document this story just had way too many plot threads not to without going insan #or doing a bad job #if it's a longish fic i'll sometimes have a bare bone outline just to make sure i keep my eye on the end goals and pacing but that's it #the only other thing i've gone this intense for is that hogan's heroes dating sim that i've had forever simmering on the back burner #that planning document is mighty and infuriating #torchwood #mash

[kyouka-supremacy]

Me, opening a fic with a big “major character death” warning stamped on it: wow I sure hope nobody dies in this

#I've read a lot of sskk fic. I've been reading so many sskk fics. I've probably read too many sskk fics. #And it's gone so far that I feel like I should read *every* sskk fic when I really... Can just not do it lol. #I don't like angst without happy ending when it's about my favorites. #sskk #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #q. #20/09/22