#but here we are! Fuck it we ball! I put this much effort into the new art

[sketchy-tour]

ALRIGHTY! Time to formally reintroduce yall to my silly idiot OC Dandy!

and by that I mean, I redid their ref art, tweaked their bio, and finally made a ref for their stupid pajamas! Wanted to do other fits for them but aa another time. Brain is mashed potatoes.

Anyway, Dandy is my silly WH oc who's main theme is self care/self love messages shown through the imagery of gardening! Meant to be a sort of "garden of the self" sort of deal. They go by ANY PRONOUNS! She/her or He/Him, or They/Them are all correct and okay to use when talking about them! (I just tend to default to they/them) Putting their full bio under the break!!! So you can read it all there!

"Resident gardener of Welcome Home, Dandy Leon is a curious but careful presence among the others in the neighborhood. They enjoy the quiet and spending their time tending to their various flowers. While a little shy around their fellow neighbors, they open up quickly when asked about their garden. Despite their more introverted disposition, they're always determined to make every day just dandy!"

It’s presumed that Dandy makes appearances only in the later episodes of the show’s run. But in old scripts found with them, it's shown that they moved to Home specifically because they were interested in the local plant life there. The episode that featured their move in seemed to focus on them slowly warming up to the others in the neighborhood, as their shy nature made it difficult for them to properly meet everyone. When asked as to where they lived before moving to Home, Dandy mentions living in a farm town far away, simply deeming it "far more south from here!" A lot of their dialogue also mentions their father, though he's never named but instead mentioned passively as Dandy would often use phrases like "Well it's like my pop always said-" when speaking to the other puppets.

During their short time on the show, Dandy's segments seemed focused on care for their garden, the language hinting that the flowers were more a metaphor for taking care of oneself and well being. Other characters can be found pointing out how much better Dandy’s garden looks when they’re feeling happy, but also comment how wilted it becomes when they’re shown to be a bit more downtrodden. They feel strongly about how important it is to be kind to yourself, even if it’s a skill they’re shown to still be working on themselves. Their confidence is something they also struggle with, seemingly a character meant for shyer audience members to attach to and grow alongside with. Dandy is often depicted in illustrations with Frank, getting along quite well in the show, often joining him and Julie on small escapades. Before the show's end however, most of Dandy's screen time is with Wally as he tries to get Dandy out of their shell more to spend time around others.

Interestingly, what pronouns were used for them seemed to change between the show's episodes and illustrated materials. While neighbors would refer to them as 'he' during the show, most art pieces seemed to refer to Dandy as a 'she'. Whether this was simply a miscommunication between teams or a printing error is unknown.

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home oc #welcome home original character #dandy leon #my art #PHEW! Been chipping away at this for a few days now! #Wish I could redo the cute sketch pages I did with dandy's old ref but that is...a lot of time and a lot of effort i do not have right now #oh well! I'll leave those with the old art #I think thats okay #Dandy is slowly becoming less rOUND AAklfdjkdfsdf #STYLE PROGRESSION! Had to get used to the new ref art I made and had a small moment where I worried I lost their old charm #but here we are! Fuck it we ball! I put this much effort into the new art #Dandy was GONNA also get phone art but DESIGNING A PHONE IS HARD #also just...something I will do another day aha

[moon-rivr]

Every day I wake up and want Miguel O’Hara, a man who can cherish me with all my heart but also fuck my brains and yk what so hard to the point it’s mush /j

That aside, I’d looove to see jealous Miggy railing the shit out of Y/N all bc an old classmate from high school/uni was all being handsy and Miguel didn’t like that bc he didn’t get the hint 😏

celoso

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: situationship, jealousy, mentions of verbal abuse, reader gets pinned against wall, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, biting, marking, unprotected p in v (be safe 🤨🤨), doggy, brief choking, spanking

a/n: so i was thinking of making this into a relationship fic buttt my hand slipped (whoops)

word count: 4.3K

"Wey, you're gonna end up breaking that cup."

Miguel looked down at the glass of champagne he was holding, his knuckles starting to turn white from how forcefully he was holding it. He couldn't help it though, especially with the way Flash wrapped his hand around your waist while he made you laugh. "Not like they don't have more cups," he responded, looking back over to his brother who had a knowing smile on his face. "I don't get it, you both like each other so why not pursue something?" Gabriel asked him, the same question that had been tormenting Miguel these last couple weeks.

The only reason that Miguel had even agreed to come back to the reunion was because of the way that you looked at him, clearly excited to see how everyone's life had been going so far. He didn't care that much about the people that used him for test answers but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to spend some time with you. "We wouldn't be seen together but as long as the two of us know we're there together then who really cares?" You had told him, his plans wrecked by the bomb you'd dropped. He ended up going to the event regardless because no matter how hard he tried, he could never find it in him to deny you anything.

Flashing disco lights mixed with the loud music was supposed to provide an ambiance full of enjoyment but it did nothing more than just torment Miguel. He hated the fact that his eyes seemed to find you in every room you were in without putting in much effort like a siren capturing its prey. All the event did was remind him that he no right to be feeling possessive over you, that he had no authority to be feeling jealous at some other man having his hands all over you.

He knew that you didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he couldn't help the feelings that he'd developed towards you. So in attempt just to have you present in his life, he'd agreed to keep this no-strings fling with you. The lines kept blurring every so often though, with the two of you going on dates and being each other's confidant. He was moderately happy with the arrangement that the two of you shared, but seeing you getting so comfortable with another man made him wish that he had the balls to ask you for something more.

"We're both fine with the no-strings thing we have going on," Miguel told him, loosening his grip on the cup before taking a sip. Gabriel raised a brow as he reached over to grab a champagne glass from the table. "Ya estas muy viejo para andar con estas mamadas," Gabriel retorted, standing next to him as he patted him on the shoulder. (you’re too old to be doing this shit) "Ni tan viejo, solo 27," he grumbled, his brows furrowing even further as he saw you place your hand on Flash's shoulder. (not that old, just 27) "There's people here who are already married," Gabriel offered, letting out a laugh as Miguel’s scowl deepened further.

You were talking with some friends in the middle of the gymnasium floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Miguel as your friends tried to recognize the people around them. "Wow, he's so tall and hot," Sasha, your friend, pointed out and you didn't even have to turn around to know she was referring to Miguel. "Isn't that the guy who used to wear those stupid glasses? I think his name was Manuel or something," your other friend, Jenna, remarked once she stopped kissing her boyfriend long enough to see who you were all talking about. You bit on the inside of your cheek to avoid correcting her, not wanting to drag any suspicion to yourself.

You listened to your friends talking as they excluded you from the conversation, wondering why you even put up with them back in uni. You excused yourself though you weren't sure if anyone really cared about your absence and headed to the bathroom. You were about to enter when you suddenly felt a strong grip on your arm, turning around to be faced with Flash. "Why'd you leave so early, pretty girl?" He asked you, his mouth reeking from the vodka he'd been drinking all night. "I just need to fix my makeup," you responded, trying to get him to loosen his grip but he pushed you against the wall.

"I've been thinking.. we were really good during university so what do you say if we rekindle that flame?" He asked, clearly oblivious to the fear sparking up in your eyes. "Dude, get off me. you're hurting my arm," you tried to plead with him but the grip around you only intensified. He leaned into kiss you, your knee hitting him in the groin once he got close to you. "STUPID WHORE!" He screamed after you ran away from him. You weren't too focused on where you were going, just making the effort to get away from him as much as possible.

You didn't realize you'd bumped into someone, your eyes flickering up to meet Miguel’s red ones. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his gaze softening a bit as he looked down at you. "Oh thank goodness I found you," you mumbled, just burying your head in his chest without caring who was around. His hand came to hold yours, only stopping when he felt you flinch underneath. "Who did this to you?" you could tell that he was trying to remain calm as he asked that question, some venom still managing to seep through. "Flash Thompson," you responded, holding his arm before he had the chance to storm off.

"Can you just stay with me, please?" You asked him, tears brimming on your waterline. He let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted but he nodded and went with you to the football field. The two of you sat on the stands, sounds of cicadas around filling up the silence. You leaned against Miguel’s shoulder, finding comfort in just being around him despite the rough facade that he'd built for himself. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, seemingly wanting to keep you away from any further danger that would come.

"It's so stupid, I actually thought that he was an okay partner during our time in university. Like sure, he was verbally abusive towards me but he was nice during these short periods of time," you spoke out, feeling Miguel’s eyes bore into you as you did. "Is that why you're so avoidant on being in a relationship?" He asked you, his hand tracing small circles on your shoulder. You took a couple seconds to think about his question, wondering if Flash had really had that much of an effect on you and your future relationships. "It's part of the reason why, I think seeing everyone around me in unhealthy relationships kind of set in stone for me."

"I don't think it's wrong what you're doing, but are you sure you're not closing off opportunities just because of that fear?" He inquired, his hand coming down to your waist as he held you close to him. The truth was that you did allow yourself to wonder about the 'what-ifs' but they always ended up in the worst result. "I just don't see the whole point of putting myself through the pain of being in a relationship, y'know? Plus, you're pretty good company," you responded, flashing a small smile towards him.

Miguel didn't say anything, but he didn't need to in that moment. All you were looking for was for someone to hold you, to make you feel like you were okay again. You got up when you heard your phone buzzing, a message from your friend asking to come back to the party. "I'll come meet you later tonight," you told Miguel before you left, leaning over to press your lips against his cheek. You couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you saw your lipstick mark on him, practically marking him as yours. "Don't think I forgot about all those little touches by the way!" He yelled after you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips while he waited for you to leave.

You walked back into the party, seeing your friends still standing in their spot without Flash. You grabbed yourself a drink from a table nearby, listening in to the conversation happening around you. You let out the small occasional 'hm' and 'mhm' in response to their conversation, not willing yourself to feign more interest than that. If your friends had noticed something off, they hadn't bothered to mention it. Your eyes glanced over to Gabriel, seeing that Miguel still hadn't come back from the field. You found yourself growing a bit worried for him, taking a sip from your soda to try to calm down.

Miguel saw Flash as he walking back from the football field, unable to hold himself back the longer he looked at him. As Miguel approached him, he could tell that his frame clearly overpowered his, but Flash still tried to pretend like he was the one in power of this situation. "What the hell do you want, nerd?" Flash asked him, speaking to him like he didn't matter much more than the dirt below his feet. "What I want is for you not to put a hand on her again," Miguel spoke calmly, despite the storm that was brewing up inside him. "And if I don't?"

The whole thing had happened in a blur, one minute Flash was laughing in face and calling him a nerd and the other he was on the floor screaming for help. Miguel had to mentally restrain himself as he punched him, his fist leaving Flash with a crooked and bloody nose. "That's what happens if you don't," Miguel responded, wiping away the blood on his handkerchief before walking away. He stepped away into the restroom, his hand throbbing as he washed away the blood flash leaked onto his hand. Your concern for Miguel was quickly replaced with shock when Flash came into the gymnasium, blood spilling onto the white shirt he had on.

You’d almost missed Miguel walking in behind him as he tried his best to blend into the shadows while he walked back to Gabriel. Your attention was brought back to the group when they let out a collective gasp once they noticed Flash walking over. "What the hell happened to you?" Sasha asked him, a tone of amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Bumped into a door," he responded, grabbing some ice from the bowl nearby and placing them into a napkin. You noticed he kept his distance from you this time, giving you only the occasional dirty look.

Gabriel looked up from his phone to look up at Miguel, taking a look at his throbbing hand. "Don't ask," Miguel grumbled, placing an ice cold soda against his knuckles. "Wasn't going to. How's the other guy doing?" Gabriel asked before he looked over where Miguel was staring, noticing Flash's bloody nose. He let out a small hiss as a response, clapping Miguel’s shoulder. "Well at least he looks worse than you. I was gonna text you after you abandoned me, met some girl that wanted to dance with me," Gabriel spoke before leaving Miguel alone in the shadows.

You watched as Jenna danced with gabriel, despite the fact that her boyfriend had only just left the event. The group decided to join her on the dance floor and so you did the same, dancing to the rhythm of the song that was playing. Your eyes met Miguel’s as you danced, your hips moving sensually to the rhythm of the song. You could feel other people staring at you and the way that you moved, but your eyes couldn't leave Miguel’s no matter how hard you willed yourself to try. His stone cold facade broke down when he clenched his fists by his sides, a clear sign that you were affecting him.

You looked at him as he pulled his phone out, his thumbs rushing across the keyboard as he tried to write the words out to the best of his ability. You felt a buzz in your purse, seeing a text message from Miguel to meet him in the restroom. You placed your phone back in your purse, taking a small gulp as you walked into the restroom after him. "Second stall," he spoke up once he heard the door close, your heels clicking across the bathroom floor while you walked to him. "What if that'd been someone else?" You teased him as you walked into the stall, closing it immediately to avoid getting caught.

The words soon enough died in your throat as Miguel unbuttoned his pants, his cock hard under his boxers. "You see what you do to me, beautiful? Couldn't stand all those others staring at what's mine," he told you, bringing your face up to his as he kissed you. The kiss was rough, like he was just desperate to get a taste of you. His mouth travelled down to your throat, leaving a small mark on the side of your neck. "You're all mine," he whispered, his touch featherlight as he kissed your neck. You got down on your knees, palming his cock through the boxers.

You slid them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. You wrapped one of your hands around it, starting to stroke him as your mouth went towards his thighs. You left small kisses on his thigh, making your way up to his cock. You placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock, your lipstick leaving a mark as you did. You opened up your mouth, swirling your tongue around the reddened head with your eyes locked straight on his. His hand came back to the back of your head, holding you in place as you got started.

You took more of his cock in your mouth, never growing quite adjusted to the size of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you made your way down his shaft, your tongue running down the underside of his cock. His hips bucked forward, your gags filling up the empty bathroom. "So pretty, all stuffed with cock like that," he murmured, your eyes watering slightly as you tried to control the tears streaming down from your cheeks. Your hand wrapped around the base, pumping what your mouth couldn't reach and the other one went to play with his balls. You held his heavy balls in your hand, tugging them slightly and massaging them in your grasp.

"Oh fuuuck, just like that," he moaned quietly, soft groans erupting from his chest as you continued to suck on his cock. You pulled away, spitting on the tip while the liquid travelled downward. Your grip on the base tightened as you moved your hand up and down his cock, looking up at him in anticipation. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your lipstick smeared across and your mascara dripping down your cheeks. "Tan hermosa que eres," he groaned as he felt your tongue running along the underside of his tip, the sight of him looking so disheveled making your panties wetter by the second. (you’re so beautiful)

You felt your pussy clench around nothing as you sucked him off, your panties damp from how much you were affected by this. You felt his legs shaking underneath you, his groans becoming louder as he approached his orgasm. "Where do you want it?" He asked, his voice cracking a bit from the sensation he was feeling. You opened up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as your hand pumped him at the same rate you were going beforehand. "Just like that, don't stop," he told you, biting into his hand as he approached his orgasm. White ropes of cum filled up your mouth, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin.

"I look horrible," you noticed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your lipstick barely clinging on. "Well I think you look pretty," Miguel responded, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peppered your neck with more kisses. You wiped away at the mascara dripping down from your cheeks, deciding to give up on that aspect and just fix up your lipstick. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you saw the mark on miguel's lips, handing him a piece of tissue paper to clean up.

Once the two of you had fixed up the slightest bit, you left at separate times. You waited for Miguel to text you the okay before leaving the bathroom, walking back over to your friends. "What's up with you? You keep disappearing," Jenna pointed out once you came back, the darkness of the gym hiding away the hickey blooming on the side of your neck. So much for them not noticing your absence.

"Just drank a little too much soda," you responded, keeping your voice even so they wouldn't notice your little fib. You looked around, noticing that Gabriel was standing off to the side once more. "What happened to dancing with him?" You decided to change the subject, receiving a small shrug in response. "I don't know, he's too sweet? His brother, though, definitely looks like he's a freak in the sheets," she pointed out and you couldn't help but feel a bit of possessiveness over Miguel. You decided to ignore her little comment, letting her go back to talking with the rest of the group.

Miguel walked back over to Gabriel, finding him sulking alone in the shadows. "It's funny, almost every girl I've been with chooses you for some reason despite the fact that you're an asshole," Gabriel spoke up, Miguel’s chest tightening up a bit as he spoke. He'd never meant to make his brother feel inferior, never meant to make him feel like he was something less. "The girl you were dancing with had a boyfriend so I wouldn't wallow too much over that," Miguel responded, approaching Gabriel slowly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he responded with a small sigh, still feeling down.

Soon enough, another woman had approached Gabriel and asked him for a coffee, without offering Miguel as much as a second glance. Miguel looked down at his phone, checking the time on his phone before walking out of the gym. You came out right after he did, stepping side by side with him. "How's your brother doing? Jenna’s kind of.. a lot so I’m sorry," you spoke up first, looking up at Miguel. "He's alright, he found someone else to get over it. How do you feel about getting back to my place?"

On the drive back home, you couldn't help but feel aroused at the sight of him behind the wheel. He just drove so eloquently, his muscles flexing in the thin button down he had on with every movement that he made. You spread your legs, noticing Miguel looking at you through the corner of his eye. You tentatively played with your folds through the thin material of your panties, looking over at Miguel as he struggled to maintain his composure. "It's like you want me to crash, little minx," he muttered, looking straight at the road. You took off your panties slowly, bringing your fingers up to Miguel’s mouth.

He wrapped his mouth around them as he kept his attention on the road, covering them in his spit. You brought them back into your weeping hole, sticking them in. You started off slow, your slick combining with his spit each time you pushed them inside. Miguel’s hand around the steering wheel tightened, letting out a grunt as he heard the squelch from your pussy. You began rocking your pelvis against your hand, riding your two fingers as soft moans escaped from your lips. Miguel brought his other hand towards your clit, rubbing the nub as he continued to drive across the empty streets.

Just as you were about to cum, Miguel pulled his hand away despite your protests. "You'll only be coming around my cock, understand?" He told you, the car coming to a stop. You looked around, noticing that the two of you had arrived to his penthouse. You felt your pussy clench up at his promise, your shaky feet barely taking you out of his car. Without a word, miguel picked you up with ease and locked up the car before taking you inside.

The two of you had barely gotten through the door when Miguel started kissing you, his mouth engulfing around yours like he was afraid you'd go away. "We should go to the bedroom, yeah?" You suggested to him in between kisses, his hand grabbing yours as he led you up the stairs. The minute the two of you had made it back to the bedroom, his lips were back on yours as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth like it was the first time doing so.

He wasted no time in zipping down your dress and taking off his clothes, a pile quickly building up underneath the two of you. "Get down on your hands and knees," he told you, your body obliging almost immediately. His hand rubbed the globe of your ass cheek, a sharp smack taking all the breath from your lungs. "I want you to count for the amount of times he had his hands on you," he spoke, his hand gently soothing the sting from the previous slap. "Okay!" You exclaimed, letting out a moan as his hand came down to smack your ass once more. "One!"

The process continued for four more times, Miguel’s hands gripping your hips as he pushed his cock inside of you. "You only belong to me, I don't care if it's official to you or not, it is to me," he spoke, a small grunt escaping from his lips as he felt your pussy clench around him. No matter how many times he'd fucked you, the process was still a stretch every time. You gripped onto the pillow below you tightly, his cock moving inside of you slightly as he tried to fit in.

He retracted his cock, slamming into you in sharp thrust. "All mine, understand?" He told you, leaning in slightly as his chest hit your back. "All yours!" You responded, the words not feeling like something you were just saying in the moment. The grip around your waist tightened, his cock retracting out of your pussy much faster this time. Drool rolled down to your chin as he sped up, his thrusts almost punishing you for letting another man touch you. Your back arched, stomach against the bed as he rocked you back and forth.

He brought you back up, your back plush against his chest while his hips snapped into yours. You held onto the headboard, the wooden frame hitting the wall with every thrust that he took. One of his hands held your waist as he fucked you to his will, the other wrapping around your throat. He provided enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges but not enough to the point where you were suffocating. The blood rushed up to your head with every thrust that he took, your mouth parted in a 'o' shape as you moaned out babbles of what seemed to be his name.

He tilted your head back to his directions, leaning in as he kissed you with such intensity that it made you dizzy. You weren't too sure if it was from him or the momentary oxygen loss, but you couldn't get enough of how well he was fucking you. You went back to being on your hands and knees, almost feeling his cock in your throat from this angle. One of his fingers circled the rim of your ass, never willing to do that without your proper consent but he liked to toy with the idea every so often. That hand went down to your clit, rubbing your clit and flicking the nub to the rhythm of his thrusts.

A new wave of your slick coated his cock, some of it rolling down to the covers beneath the two of you. Your mind was erased from every thought that didn't include coming around Miguel’s cock. Your walls clamped around him once more, a moan erupting from your throat while your release coated his cock. He continued with the same pace, fucking you through the orgasm as he sought out for his own release. His thrusts stuttered slightly, becoming off-pace as he reached the brink of his own orgasm.

His head came down to your shoulder, biting down on it as white ropes of cum coated your walls. His fangs gently grazed against your shoulder blade when he removed his mouth, waiting for his cock to soften up so he could remove it. He slid out in one swift motion, getting a rag from the bed stand. he cleaned in between your thighs, his touch light as he did. "Can you stand up for a minute? I'm not letting you sleep on those sheets," he asked you, helping you get up from the bed.

After he'd changed the sheets, you couldn't help but look up at him curiously. "Was that talk about me being yours just something out of the heat of the moment or..?" You asked, trailing off since you didn't want to make wrongful assumptions. "No, it wasn't. I only agreed to this stupid fling because I just wanted to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm acting rash or anything, we can go back to normal," he responded, willing to put aside his feelings for you just so he'd have these moments. "I don't want things to go back to normal, I want to be with you."

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #miguel fic #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman smut #spiderman #spiderman 2099 smut #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself. 

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth. 

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks. 

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod. 

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that. 

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say. 

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie. 

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.” 

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face. 

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks. 

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[gildedkrone]

Do you regret the things we shared that I’ll never forget

“This is inappropriate.”

Captain Price. SAS veteran and commander, with his hands in your trousers as the belt buckle rattles when a strong hand cusps you through your boxers. Price’s eyes are lasered in on your lips as a tongue coats them in glisten.

“So is this. Stop, if you find it so.”

“Cadet, this is—”

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But it seems as if you’re the one who can’t, captain.”

Price tries to pull his hand away but your hand arrests his and keeps it there and you feel it—the gentle curling of his thick fingers pushes fingertips into intimacy and how inappropriate, in the quiet cool of his office where your hips settle into the edge of the desk with the man between your legs.

Captain John Price. Cadet trainer and with his authority, you would go far.

“Stop this at once. We should not be doing this.”

“If so, why are you eye fucking me the whole day, Price?”

Price’s brows furrow and shame is apparent on his face for having been so … brazen with his looks. He jerks when your palm moulds his cheeks and a strong iron grasp stops your wrists in an unspoken do not.

Minute tremors from his shaking hands are passing into yours and he inhales sharply when you hand presses his palm further into your briefs as you part your lips in show when a thumb gently rubs against your balls.

“It feels good, captain.” He looks so unsure of himself, for once. “Bet I could make you feel good too.”

“This—this is wrong. What do you want, cadet?” He speaks with herculean effort to keep his voice steady and unwavering against the warring emotions in his chest.

“Let’s care about your first. I know you like men, Price.”

You feel his fingers moving on their accord, squeezing and gently messaging you are most private and your fingers weave between his to give him permission to be bolder with his advances. The want for him to take what is before him; gods above, you have him exactly where you want him.

And he knows, too.

“I know you dream of being in a relationship with a man. But not just any man.” He mourns the loss of the heat of your palm when you unbuckle your shirt and it flops onto his desk in a heap.

“You want an omega, don’t you? Unmarked, untamed.” His eyes linger on your shoulder where clean, pristine flesh is presented to him. A free omega.

“If you don’t stop, I will have to report this to your unit commander.”

He pulls his hand away from your crotch and you watch him retreat to the other side of desk and sit.

“I dare you.”

“I dare you, Price. Do you know how many omegas there are in the SAS?”

His flimsy attempts at pretending to be busy with work stop when he feels your hand settle on his.

“Five percent.” You sit on the edge of his desk. “In this base? Just twenty. And most of the female omegas don’t even catch your fancy, do they?”

He lips curl when you lean forward and intermingles your scent with his.

“There’s only five of us right here, right now. Four of them in medical and—” He protests when you push his chair to the side, “only one in combat service.”

“Bet you like that, don’t you? The smell of gunpowder and sweat, it drives you crazy, doesn’t it? I know you want me, Price.”

“And lucky for you, I want you very much, too.”

The hiss of the chair when you settle into his lap with your half unbuttoned pants and shirtless torso is just too much for the alpha and Price pulls you in until his clothed chest is pressed against yours. Hands come to rest against your hip and arse and they keep you there against the very handsome captain in the chair.

He gasps—the sound echoes in his office—when a roll of your hips puts pressure against his groin and his hand grabs a handful of your trousers, further dislodging the garment as it slides lower down your thighs.

“W-what do you want?”

“I want to be assigned to an intelligence role.” Surprise, the captain is surprised. “The other cadets I work with are all fools, stupid and lacking in brains.”

You hold his wrist up to your chest and pleasure explodes from the nub between his fingers. Below, his trousers are tented obscenely as the near pornographic moan from your pliant throat fuels the lust clouding his judgement.

“I-I—fuck—I can’t guarantee that, cadet.” Of course it wouldn’t be enough.

His collar unfurls to reveal a strong and toned chest and you examine the dog tags around his neck.

“I know. But a recommendation letter with your signature will open doors for me. And in return, you will have me.”

Your lips brushes against his clenched jaw and a stutter escapes his lips.

“I’ll be your needy and wet omega, all ready to satiate your needs, captain.”

“Y-you wanted this …”

The chair squeaks further when you push your hips flush against his, eliciting a strong grasp of the armrest as the captain desperately fights against his biology. The light behind you only serves to agitate him; his teeth is a perfect fit for your shoulder.

“It must be difficult, being so accomplished yet going home to an empty bed with no companionship. But, you have me now. Say it, John.”

“You are … ngh … in your twenties? Shit, you fuckin’ heathen!”

His shirt comes to rest at his pelvis and you just couldn’t resist—your teeth leaves shallow prints on his nips and you run a tongue over in apology.

“Well, I like my men older. Can you feel how much I need you, John?”

He almost loses it right there and then when you push his fingers past the waistband into sinful territory and warm slick coats all of his fingers and your tip leaks pearly onto his forearm. The smell is ambrosial and he cleans his fingers thoroughly with his tongue and it tastes—heavenly.

“I’ll be your secret, John. We won’t have to tell anyone about this.”

His men once joked about it, and now he’s finally experiencing it for himself.

“Help me, Price. Help me and I’ll be yours. All yours and only yours. I don’t want Janus. I want you, captain.”

The mention of Janus, another hot headed alpha cadet roils Price up—the mental image of another useless thick dicked idiot eliciting drunken moans and drools from your lips sparks the territorial side of him to claim, mark and take the willing omega before someone else comes along.

How long has he been without a partner? In his late thirties, time runs thin for this alpha. Right in front him and settled over his thighs, virility and lust paw at his chest for his attention. You both know—you’re his best chance at the euphoria just a mile off.

All he just had to do is say yes. Inappropriate as hell, but age gap be damned, he wants this all for himself. His acquiescence, a white flag of defeat against his basal instincts and deep seated desires, comes roaring into the present when heat grasps him through parted trousers and he shouts with you as the very last of his defences comes crashing down when a warm, velvety tight heat engulfs his satin and milks him for all of his alpha seed into finally, satiation as his teeth breaks the skin on your shoulder.

You grasp onto his back as Price settles into a brutal pace of a man having his first frolic in the great pools of nirvana. The air smells of sex and the pleasure drunk look on your face—he wants to frame it on his wall to remind himself of what youth tastes on teeth.

A consummation of lust in his office. The captain’s pet indeed, has the captain wrapped around his finger. So special, so … you leaving his office an hour later with a sated captain and a letter signed in his name:

I, CPT Jonathan Price, hereby give me recommendation …

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #cod x male reader

[romanoffsbish]

Clandestine Meetings

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Prompts / Request

 “Go and lock the door for me.  I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

 “Go get one of your toys.  Let’s make this even better.”

“Is that gonna fit?”  “I’ll make it fit.”

Warnings: Jealousy, Emotionally Stunted Natasha

Smut: Natasha has a penis, Daddy(N), Detka/Whore(R), Nipple Clamps, Vibrating Egg, Oral(R), Unprotected Sex/Breeding, Choking, Edging/Teasing, Orgasm Denial.

18+ | Minors DNI

"I want love Nat, you just want a quick fuck."

The words you whispered to her over a month ago have been bouncing around her mind the entire time, plaguing her very soul. It got to the point where while away on her mission she couldn't even focus on the objective anymore.

Who were you to just come to a conclusion like that without so much as a conversation?

——

Not a, "Nat, we need to talk," or a "I'm not sure we want the same things Nat, correct me if I'm wrong here," and she would've corrected you. Because you were so far off base, all Natasha wanted was to love you, she just didn't know how to do that outside of worshipping you in deeply passionate moments that usually ended just as fast as they began, and left you alone.

Now here you lay on the compounds couch in your sleep shorts, a sight the redhead would love to see every morning in her own room. Waking up beside you would be a dream new experience, potentially challenging, but she knows that she'd grow to love the situation.

Natasha already loved you—desperately so.

The only obstacle here had been her inability to make her loving intentions clear to you. She'd always been a bit more on the vulgar side, and you seemed into it for awhile, but one random night you shoved her away and that was just it.

As soon as she figured herself out, she was going to make things right with you. But there was apparently a new obstacle, because right now your head was settled into another's lap.  Carol was listening to you ramble on while mindlessly stroking your cheek. Natasha envied the blonde's ability to offer such an intimate moment without any real effort.

When she saw how much the woman enjoyed your presence she felt her heart shattering into tiny, jagged pieces. With her jaw clenched she rushed out of the kitchen and went straight to her room where she allowed a stray tear to fall. Then she reached for her phone, and sent you a text message: Meet me in my room in 5 !

Carol smiled down at you knowingly when she heard the ding of your phone, "I told you to go after her Y/N, she didn't seem very pleased."

"Yeah, and I don't give a fuck," you huffed, arms crossing over your chest, and the blonde cackled wildly at the sign of faux indifference before she returned to a more serious state.

"Y/N, ever since she's been gone all you've done is mope around this place, but oh look, the day she's back you suddenly appear before me with a sunny disposition and expect me not to see right through it? Answer her text and maybe even go get laid, you're insufferable."

"Carol," you groaned, hands flying to your face to hide the mortification in your eyes at the brutal call out, "She doesn't want me," you pouted, "at least not in the way I want her to."

"Did she say that?" Carol asks while lazily drawing circles on your shoulder to calm you.

"She didn't have to say it out loud..."

"Oh Y/N," she tilted your head so you would be facing her, she caressed your cheek then spoke, "Natasha isn't exactly known for expressing her feelings in ways that make sense, so how about you put your big girl pants on, and force her to say the words she couldn't manage to before."

You huffed while glaring up at her, knowing she was right, but in the same breath you snatched your phone up, and read the message while rolling your eyes, a bitter chuckle leaving you as you saw the song that happened to have been softly playing at the time of arrival.

After a moment of soul searching you took off to her bedroom in a frenzied ball of nerves. Entering her space felt both comfortingly familiar, and extremely uneasy. Seeing her sat on the bed in sweats with her legs manspread, leaning back on her exposed muscular arms as she wore a cami without a bra you felt your body tingle with need, and your mouth go dry.

With a sly smirk, and a crook of her finger you made your way further into the room, but she left you to be blanketed in an awkward silence. It was clear she didn't actually expect you to be here, and now that you were she was weighing out her options, but just like usual, she was not able to articulate the right words like: I missed you, I love you, or please, don't leave again...

"Go and lock the door for me. I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm balls deep," the redhead commanded dryly, and though the thought of her inside you alone nearly brought you to your knees, you rolled your eyes instead and went to hurriedly walk away again.

Natasha ran after you, catching you by the wrist to prevent you from leaving, "Y/N, stop doing this okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose, and softly sighed, "I don't know how to do all of this, vulnerability isn't my strong suit, okay? Just let me show you instead..."

You furrowed your brows, and she sighed exasperatedly, "Give me a chance, please."

Saying no to her would be in vain, because it was all you wanted to finally be beneath her, so you nodded without really much hesitation.

Natasha leaned in to kiss you, the first time in your whole arrangement that she'd done it with any semblance of care present. Normally it's all teeth clashing, and tongues sloppily gliding over the other while she brought you to bliss.

Up until now Natasha has only ever offered you quick moments, with only her hands or mouth diligently bringing you over that glorious edge. Never had she actually shown you tenderness, but more importantly, she had yet to fuck you with the bulge poking you through her pants.

Natasha wasn't ready to give you all of her, it was actually something she'd never done with another person that she loved before. She's screwed girls before, usually as a means to an end, with their faces smushed into a mattress, but she couldn't bring herself to do it with you. No matter how desperate she was for release after hearing and seeing you come undone for her, or how prettily you'd beg to help her out each time, she just couldn't cross that line.

But now, she knew it was all she could do to make sure you understand, that you feel her in every sense possible, and feel her love for you.

"Na-Natasha," breathlessly you stuttered out her name as your hips reflexively canted into hers, "I need you daddy, please, fill me up."

Natasha groaned, pulling away from your lips she smirked devilishly, you could see the flicker of mischief in her gaze as she leaned down to suck a mark onto your smooth skin, "Go get one of your toys. Let's make this even better."

The knob twisted in her hands this time, she watched in amusement as you scurried across the hall to your room in your mussed up state.

"Look at how desperate you already are detka," she slammed you back into the door as soon as you crossed the threshold, the door slammed close with the impact and you moaned weakly.

Surveying the items in your hands she softly chuckled, "Oh, you're in for it now Y/N, gonna give you all of me so you can finally understand what my true intentions with you are."

This time when she kissed you it was with a bit of urgency, her hands contrastingly gripped your hips softly, and without ever breaking the kiss she walked your body over to the mattress. Natasha lowered you down gently, and as she rose back up she collected the nipple clamps and the vibrating bullet from your hands.

"May I?" Natasha gestured to your body, and you smiled gratefully, no matter how quickly she usually took you, she'd always been keen on hearing consent. "Please, do it already."

The sleep clothes were quickly discarded, and her lips latched onto your risen buds instantly. Her tongue rolled around your nipple slowly, causing your breath to shallow as you were overrun with pleasurable anticipation. After a moment she released your nipple with a pop, giving you only seconds to adjust to the chill on your wetted skin before she attached a clamp.

Natasha caught your hand before it could mindlessly tug the clamp off, "It's okay detka," she shushed you softly, tenderly smiling down at you as she slid her fingers between yours, "You're okay," she gently brushed her lips over your knuckles before laying your interlocked hands on top of the mattress. A whimper left you as you were overrun with a overdue sense of comfort from her, then you were moaning when her lips returned to your heated skin.

"I'm going to ruin you Y/N," she growled around your other nipple before she bit into the hypersensitive skin, "No one will ever touch you again after I leave a mark on what's mine."

"Say it," she growled as she hovered over you, but before you could even try she was clamping your sore bud, effectively making you wince.

"Oh shit," you gasped when she gave the chain a harsh tugging to ensure it was properly attached, the accompanying pain was dizzying.

"I asked you to say something," she leered over you, hand now wrapped around your throat in a way that not only intimidated you but left you absolutely dripping onto her expensive sheets.

Natasha watched your brainless eyes searching for a response, it took you a minute, but you were finally about to open your mouth, but all that came out was a lewd moan as she pressed the vibrating egg into your slicked up cunt.

"Come on now detka, you know I don't like to be made to wait," she tightened her hand around your throat, something that only ever adds to your pleasure, and she knew that, it was honestly her favorite, slowly draining the life from you as she brought your body to euphoria, only to spare you in the last second.

She was a bit of a sadist. You didn't mind...

Something about that control was exhilarating, seeing your eyes grow hazier with every second as you harshly choked never failed to make her cock twitch. Maybe it was the underlying way in which you trusted her to never go too far, it had her overwhelmed with unwavering joy.

After allowing you a moment of pure bliss she deemed it enough, so she tore it away from you, ripping the vibe out of you and watching in amusement as your eyes filled with tears, and your lip was now caught between your teeth, "Daddy no, please, I-I was so close."

Your whimpering always affected her greatly, she gets off to the memory of you begging all the time, so it's no surprise to her that her cock was painfully straining against her boxers.

"Whores that forgot how to speak don't get to cum!" Natasha spat, the underlying tone full of pain telling you she meant more than in this moment, your constant distancing hurt her.

"Natty," you tried to apologize, but she only grew angrier, her hand harshly gripped your face, and she hovered over you with a furious gaze, you hated to admit it but it sent a pang of arousal down to your already dripping cunt, "That's not my fucking name slut, try again."

"Daddy," you whimpered, and she softened momentarily as she leaned in to kiss your lips, "Better, but I no longer want to hear you, so lets shut that pretty brain of yours off," she pecked your lips once more before her lips trailed down your body in quick succession.

The sound of buzzing as she now faced your cunt left you with widened eyes, this new dynamic was throwing you off honestly. So used to a quick release this newfound joy of hers spurring from teasing you was alarming. You began to wonder if the loveless sex was better, but deep down you knew it wasn't, especially when she edged you so deliciously.

Natasha held the vibe just out of reach of your clit, a test of sorts that she wanted you to fail. "Daddy's gonna get a taste now detka," she murmured against the lush skin of your thighs as she moved to further mark her territory.

After minutes of torture, where she barely swiveled the egg over your bundle of nerves you finally caved and canted your hips up. Natasha bit harshly into your thigh, blaming you for moving as she moved to hover over your face, "There's a time and a place for your pleasure, and this isn't it, now stay still Y/N!"

"Sorry daddy," you sniffled wetly, drawing her back out of her lust driven haze, and the sight of you so broken was honestly picturesque, it brought a lopsided smirk to her plump lips.

Natasha usually moved only to please you, but in this moment, she wanted you desperate. So needy, hopelessly dependent upon her touch, this way you'll never look for anyone else again. Looking into your eyes now she saw that was already your truth, you were so lost in the pleasure that she was hardly giving, "It's okay detka, you know daddy will take care of you."

Natasha kissed you until you were breathless, then when you were reduced to a heaving mess she returned to your thighs, she placed a few soft kisses there before finally diving into you.

With the vibrator pressed firmly into your clit, and her tongue deep inside you it was all you could do to make a mess of her face, a scream of pleasure echoed off her walls, and Natasha pulled back with an accomplished smile. The sight of her as your slick was dripping down her chin made your body shiver, that unraveled coil started to retighten, and your hazy eyes slammed shut as you tried to calm down.

Natasha teasingly rutted her hips into yours, you could feel her straining against her boxers when she stilled, and you couldn't help but to squirm when she made no move to fuck you.

Natasha chuckled as she felt your desperation, she softly continued to push her sizable bulge down against your slit, the irritating fabric separating your sexes actually brought you a slice of pleasure when it grazed over your clit. It would never be enough though, your hips began to jerk up to meet hers, desperation fueling you, and Natasha could feel it wholly.

She truly loved teasing you, feeling the way your aromatic slick soaked through her boxers, it only became too much for her once you were whining pitifully in her ear, making her twitch without reprieve, so without much warning she jumped up, leaving you to cry at the loss of friction, but the protests died on your tongue when you saw her dick spring free, it was huge.

"Is that gonna fit?" you visibly gulped, wide eyes watching as the tip of her cock hit her abdomen as she slowly sauntered over to you with an obnoxiously hot smirk overtaking her face as she hovered over you, "I'll make it fit."

Her lips pressed to yours, instinctually yours parted, Natasha's tongue slid into your mouth as her tip pushed passed your entrance, and you latched onto her tongue as you moaned. A shiver ran down the redheads spine when your walls simultaneously squeezed her thick shaft making it near impossible for her to fill you up.

The way that your warmth enveloped her cock made her fearful that she'd bust without even thrusting as she bottomed out, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're taking me so well detka."

Her hand sought yours out for grounding, and when you felt her interlock her fingers with yours again your eyes fluttered open to see her deepened green pair staring back into yours. The eye contact was intense, and arousing, but incredibly hard to keep when you felt her begin to thrust slowly, and relatively deeply into you.

"Keep em open," Natasha panted, your eyes slowly fluttered back open, fighting against the insurmountable pleasure, "Wanna see you."

It was a struggle, but you somehow managed to keep your eyes partially open for the ferocious women pounding into you with strong hips. The brutal pace she set was building you up quick, you never knew how much you needed her until now, she felt too good, the way she stretched you out left you gasping, and with every thrust her bulbous tip drove you wild.

With her hand in yours, and eyes locked you were overwhelmed by a love you were truly convinced didn't exist. The one that pulsed inside you the closer she got to her release, the love she needed verbally reciprocated to finish, "Say it detka," Natasha whispered breathlessly just as she twitched inside of you, "Please..."

"I'm yours Nat," you dopily confirmed with an amused tone, the moment was however short lived as a scream was torn from your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she let go inside of you, hot spurts of white filled your womb to the brim, and your body trembled without reprieve. "I-I need you Y/N, please don't leave me again, I'll do better..."

"Nat," you managed to squeak out her name in between your pants, "If you don't run, I won't."

"I'll never run again detka," she pressed her lips to your cheek, then trailed them down until she was resting in the crook of your neck, "I promise, we'll learn how to love together."

"Oh, I know how to love," you teased with a deliberate clenching of your walls, "Shit Y/N."

You flipped your positions before she could even recover, harshly grinding down against her as you did, did the trick when you could feel the way her cock hardened once more.

"It's my turn to show you," you winked, and the redhead smirked, a long drawn out sigh leaving her lips as you began to grind down into her.

———

3,075 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff pov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #black widow #black widow smut

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan smut #eventual smut #alternate universe #cod au

[beemovieerotica]

goddd ok this article was such a breath of fresh air and I'm glad somebody put into words the issue I have with a lot of well-meaning trans activism on this site

people put so much effort here into trying to debunk any claims surrounding biological sex and athletics, and it is so fucking far from the point of trans rights to spend your energy arguing about an issue that measurably affects the 0.0001% of the population who make their living as professional athletes

and people are fundamentally not realizing how engaging in these arguments is directly affirming the division of sex as a multi-billion dollar system - down to the fears over high school girls losing out on scholarships ($$$) to go to college (the privilege and access of which we have restricted) - and instead of rightly criticizing the fact that education shouldn't be paywalled behind Being Good at Throwing Ball, or addressing the behemoth in the room that professional sports leagues are, at their core, something the public and corporations throw massive amounts of money at which of course creates incentives to regulate it in a way which reflects the dominant cultural powers, we're sitting here talking in circles sharing scientific papers about what hormones can or can't do to someone's body.

like...the solution to arguments about "biological advantages" isn't to deny that any differences exist, it's to ask why legislation that regulates the lives of over 300 million people should be centered around the profitability of a single career path

do you see it

#trans rights

[futterurl]

Hii do you do angsty smut? I’m craving angst & smut for Josh futturman . Love your first work here btw ❤️

tysm anon i fucking LOVE angst and smut mixed. literally two in one combo. i got u :b apologies if this wasnt what u were looking for!!

WARNINGS: angst, bleeding, pretty graphic, smut (mdni!), oral(f!receiving), p in v, creampie, afab reader

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you clutched your side, agony hitting every inch of your body. getting shot in your side wasn’t how you thought this mission was gonna go.

it was supposed to be simple: have everyone eat the Kronish balls, save the day, yada-yada. in and out. that wasn’t the case, however, when everyone who wasn’t borderline poisoned by the kronish balls turned out to be bionic.

josh wasn’t looking behind himself, not seeing a bionic creeping up to him at a quick pace with a knife in hand. you ran as fast as you could, trying to tell him to watch out.

you pushed josh out of the way, causing the bionic to stab you right in the side. the pain hit immediately, agonizing pain. you doubled over, wanting to remove the piece of steel. you knew this would only make it worse. you had to keep it in, at least until you were able to get somewhere safe.

“shit.” tiger panicked, seeing you on the ground, clutching your torso for dear life. you looked up at her with weak eyes, coughing up spurts of blood.

“gotta. got’ get help.” you tried to speak as hard as you could without exerting too much effort. she was able to pick you up and avoid the bionics, which wolf was going crazy with.

“guys! abort the mission. s’ in critical condition!” tiger yelled at josh and wolf, seeing their expressions drop as they saw her holding you, borderline limp in her arms. as they fended off the last of the bionics, they raced over to see you, crying and tired.

“fuck, fuck, this is my fault, fuck.” josh started talking at 100 miles an hour.

“this is nobody’s fault. someone get a goddamn car and bring us home.” wolf yelled. they all raced over to the car they took, tiger slamming on the gas the second you all piled in, josh now gently bringing you into the back.

“fuck, hurts s’ bad, fuck.” you grit through your teeth, hand bloody from holding onto your side. josh had propped you up against the car window. he kept his hand right on top of yours, whispering endless strands of “i’m sorry” and “this is my fault” through tears. this was the last thing he wanted to do, especially to the girl he loved, even if she didn’t know.

you were so selfless, you took a fucking knife to the torso for him. he owed you his fucking life, if you were okay after this, that is. he was gonna make sure you were okay. he clung onto your other hand and held onto it for dear life.

in just minutes, tiger was stopping the car in front of josh’s house. josh took you into his arms, racing up to his room, flat out ignoring his parents.

he laid you onto his bed, propping you up high with a good amount of pillows.

“i have a first aid kit in my bathroom. go get it. it’s in the cabinet.” he yelled at tiger and wolf. he couldn’t stay one second away from you. not like this.

wolf ran to get it, coming back in mere seconds. he had a wet rag. “we gotta take the knife out and put this over it immediately.” he panted.

“take my hand. this might hurt.” josh offered, holding out his hand to you, which you took into yours with ease.

“one, two, three”

tiger removed the knife, to which wolf covered you with the wet rag. you screamed and wailed as you crushed josh’s hand with yours. you had never experienced that amount of pain in your entire life.

“the worst is over. you did it.” tiger tried to ease your worries, offering you painkillers in the first aid kit wolf had brought.

“fuck. still hurts s’ fucking bad, fuck.” you silently cried. this felt like torture. you felt like you were going to puke.

“can you guys give us some privacy please? sorry, she’s overwhelmed and i know how to help her.” josh said, looking at tiger and wolf. “can you guys go talk to my parents? tell them we’re all good?”

they got the signal. they quickly left and shut the door behind them.

josh looked at you. “fuck, i’m so sorry. this is all my fault. i didn’t want you to get hurt like this, i’m so sorry…” he started to tear up.

you caressed his face. “it’s okay, josh. it wasn’t your fault, nothing you could’ve done. i’m still alive, aren’t i?”

“i know, but it shouldn’t be you with the fucking knife in your side.” he replied. he was really worried about you, his heart racing. he didn’t want you to be hurt. at all. he’d gladly take a knife for you for this to be overwith. for you to not be in any more pain.

“it’s okay, really. i jumped in.” you yawned, starting to get tired.

“okay, okay.” he wasn’t gonna argue with you anymore. “is there anything i can do for you?”

you squeezed his hand. “go to sleep with me for awhile?” you asked in a hushed tone.

nothing would’ve made him happier. he couldn’t be away from you, not now, not ever. he wanted to make sure that you’d be safe. with him. in his arms.

“of course. i..i’ll stay here with you. as long as you need.” he took a few pillows from under you, letting you lay down, he laying down next to you. you cuddled up to him a bit, making him blush. thank god the light was dimmed low.

“thank you…” you drifted off as you muttered those words. josh looked down at you, watching you fall into a deep sleep. he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. even after dying, you still looked so fucking perfect. how?

why would you take a knife for me? he asked himself, over and over. i hate seeing you like this.

the last thing he wanted to do was to see you in pain, and now he saw you in pure agony, on his behalf. he felt lime such a shitty person. the least he could do is lay with you.

he wouldn’t admit that was what he secretly wanted all along. he caressed your cheek before laying his head down, joining you in a peaceful slumber.

.

.

.

you spent the next couple days attached to josh like you two were conjoined at the hip. he was constantly there for your every need, whether that be for water, food, painkillers, anything.

you were healing up nicely. sure, you were still in pain, but it was significantly less than what it originally was. having josh by your side helped a lot.

you two were laying in his bed, when the painkillers sort of wore off. you winced.

“you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“yeah, just hurts a bit.” you responded.

“you need anything? i can get it.” he offered.

“no, josh, really, it’s fine.” josh had been there for you at your every need, you were starting to feel bad. it felt like he was being a servant for you.

“i don’t want you to be in pain though.” he looked lost in thought. it looked like he wanted to say something.

“is there something on your mind, josh?” you asked.

“uh..uh, kind of. you ever have something on your mind but you don’t wanna say it because you don’t know if it’ll ruin something but you really don’t know what reaction you’ll get-” he started to talk faster and faster as he talked more and more.

“josh, we’ve known each other for what, how many years? we’ve talked about anything and everything. you can talk to me.” you propped yourself up to look at him.

he looked nervous. well, he always looked nervous. this time, however, he looked super nervous. something was on his mind.

"i was just gonna say, um, that, uh, i know a way to make you feel better...but, uh, it's kinda weird...yeah." he started stammering over his words.

"what is it, josh?" you asked. did he just bite his lip?

"i...i could make you...y'know..." he looked from your face down to your body, back up to you.

"make me what?" your heart started beating ever so slightly faster. might he be alluding to...?

"i...i could make you...make you cum. i know it's not a painkiller or anything, but it might take your mind off stuff. it's stupid, i..i should stop talking now. i shouldn't have said that. it's stupid. i'm sorry-"

you cut him off by putting your hand gently under his jaw and kissing him passionately. you started to grasp at his hair, holding it in fistfulls.

once your lips disconnected, you started breathing heavily. "josh, i'd love that. please. really." you never thought he'd ever ask you to do anything like this.

"really? am i dreaming?" he asked, rubbing your forearm gently.

"no. please, josh. make me feel good." you pleaded. now that the idea was out there, you were dead set on this. you didn't want anyone but him.

he got on top of you, starting to kiss your lips, your cheeks, your jawline, your neck. everything. it felt perfect. you could already feel your focus on your pain being subsided to this.

he lowered himself, settling in between your thighs, rubbing your hips. he held the ends of your shirt.

"can...can i see how it's doing first? just to check? don't wanna make it worse." he played with the hem of your shirt.

"yeah, yes. do it." you responded.

he lifted up your shirt to your ribcages, examining your bandages. it still looked pretty nasty, but it had certainly healed a lot since a few days ago.

"fuck...i'm still so, so sorry. i really am." he started to get a bit teary eyed while tenderly rubbing the skin by your bandages, careful to not get too close to where it would hurt.

"josh, really, it's okay. it happens. please. i don't want you to feel bad about this. it really is okay." you scratched at his hair.

"okay, okay...m'sorry. lemme make it up to you." he pressed a kiss to your stomach as he unzipped your shorts. he pulled them down slowly, not wanting to make your body jolt or be in any more pain that it was already in. he lost his breath, looking at you in just your shirt and panties. he still couldn't believe it.

"you...you okay?" you asked.

"y-yeah. i'm great. just...can't believe this is happening. you're so beautiful." he lay his head on one of your thighs, giving it a light kiss. that made you shudder. you didn't realize your thighs were that sensitive.

"thank you, thank you..." you started to mumble, becoming a bit nervous.

josh sensed your nerves. "you know, you don't have to let me do this, if you don't want me to. i know it's very up and personal."

"no, i really do, it's just...i'm just...nervous, is all. just...go slow please." you asked.

he played with the hems of your panties. "don't worry, i'll go as slow as you need." he pressed a kiss to your hip bones. "would you...would you mind if i took these off?"

"please. take them off." you were starting to get desperate.

he slowly eased them down your legs, getting a glimpse of your glistening pussy. he felt his eyes widen.

"can i...can i make you feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss on your pubic bone.

"please, josh. want you to make me feel good so badly." you were practically begging at this point.

he lowered his head just a bit, propping himself truly inbetween your thighs, licking a stripe up your slit. you shuddered, new to the sensation. it felt weird, but in a good way.

"that feel okay?" he asked.

"yes, josh, for the love of god, please...more." you begged.

his tongue rested on your clit, rubbing it with the wet muscle. this sent shivers down your spine. it rubbed back and forth on the tiny area. you let out a moan, back starting to arch off the bed.

"shit...feels s'good josh, oh my god." you moaned, him drinking up your moans.

his lips attached themselves around your clit and just sucked. this sent all sorts of waves of pleasure through you. you pulled at his hair as he sucked at your clit. he ran his tongue in circles around the sensitive bud. had he ever done this before?

his tongue ran down your cunt, entering your tight hole with a moan from you. his thumb snuck up to your clit, not giving it a break as he rubbed tight circles around it.

"feels t' good, holy shit..." you were becoming putty in his hands as he tongue fucked you.

"you taste s' fucking good." he moaned into your pussy as his thumb became even faster around your clit, using your slick as lube. "love every part of you, fuck."

it didn't help that he was practically groaning into your cunt as he went down on you, letting out little whimpers and moans into you.

he heard you start to get louder and louder. he knew you were getting close to your release. his head went back up to your clit, giving it even more stimulation.

"josh...so close, oh my god..." your hips were starting to slightly buck up into his mouth.

"i know, pretty girl, not gonna stop until you cum down my fucking throat." he pleaded, urging you as he sopped at your clit, constantly hitting the bundle of nerves. your thighs got tighter around his head.

"i...oh my god...i think i'm gonna..." you started to pant hard, getting lost in the pleasure.

"c'mon. let it out. cum in my mouth. please. make me happy and cum on me. wanna make you feel so fucking good." he said in between licks.

one of them in particular make the tight band forming in your stomach snap, you finally getting that sweet, sweet release as you moan incoherent babbles to josh, as his tongue slowly eased at your cunt.

once you came down from your high, he started to rub little circles around your hips again. "you okay?" he asked.

"fuck...that was really fucking good, josh. oh my god." you panted as he peppered your stomach in kisses.

"good, m' glad." he rubbed the skin close to your bandage. "did i do anything to make it hurt any more?" he asked, worry etching on his eyebrows.

"no, it's all fine...i feel really good right now." you looked down at him, his face a mess of saliva and your slick. that was hot.

"good." he came up a little bit, you getting a peak at his erection standing through his pants.

"do you...do you want me to take care of that?" you asked, alluding to something more.

he caught his breath. "uh..are-are you sure? i know you just...y'know. you sure you want to?"

"please, josh. i want you to fuck me." you had never felt so desperate than you did right now. you needed him.

"i don't know if this is gonna hurt you. if it does, tell me and we're done." he said, getting out of his pants, his erection standing up in his boxers. your eyes widened. you couldn't believe he was going to be inside you.

"thank you josh, i will." you pulled him in to a kiss, your hand traveling down to his boxers, lightly gripping at his clothed cock. he let out a whimper.

"that feel good?" you asked.

"yes, fuck yes that felt good. but this is about you, not me. gonna make you feel good again. promise." he pulled away as he swiped down his boxers, freeing his girthy erection.

he positioned himself, sitting up on his knees, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder, alligning his cock with your dripping cunt. he ran his tip over your clit, you both shuddering.

"i..i'm gonna put it in now, okay?" he asked for permission, hands gently holding onto your hips, careful not to hurt you with the pressure. "i'll go slow, i promise."

"please." you whimpered.

he pressed it at your entrance, his tip slowly going inside you. he let out a shudder as he traced his thumbs back and forth on your thighs, trying to ease your nerves.

"fuck, oh my god. only have the tip in but it feels s' fucking good. you're so tight. fuck." he started to become a whimpering mess.

he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you even more, at such a slow pace to make sure you weren't in any pain. sure, you had done this before, you told him, but it had been some time since. the last thing he wanted to do was make you hurt down there too.

"put the rest in josh, please." you whimpered.

he obliged, slowly bottoming out. all the sensations hit him at once: your tight, sopping cunt squeezing his cock. he knew he wouldn't last long.

"god, you're so tight, holy shit, feels so fucking good." he wailed, praising you as he caressed your hips. "you good?"

you nodded. you felt so full, it felt amazing. he looked at you with care and concern, like you were the only person in the world right then. it was perfect. he was doing all this for you.

"please start moving. feels good." you pleaded.

he nodded furiously, taking an experimental thrust into you, to which you both moaned out to. he was constantly letting out strings of "oh god" and "fuck" into the room as he started to grip your thigh.

he started to get into a motion, him pistoning in and out of you at a quick pace. your tight gummy walls pulled him in with every thrust, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

"oh my god, you feel so good. love this pussy so much, holy shit." he was practically worshipping you at this point as his hips drove into yours, you letting out moans in response.

one of his hands found itself at your cunt, his thumb starting to bully your clit in tight circles, you letting out a loud moan in response.

"josh, getting close, oh my god. fuck!" you pleaded for him. his thumb around your clit started to move even faster as his hips drove into you, hitting every spot.

"gonna cum soon, please cum with me." he pleaded in between moans, hips moving even faster. you broke down into a moaning mess as you felt another orgasm coming.

"you're so hot, holy shit. wanna fuck you like this forever. wanna get lost in this pussy. please. want you to come on my cock over and over again. shit." he let out rambles as he started to reach his peak.

these words let you to your second orgasm, your cunt becoming even tighter around his cock as you moaned as loud as possible, yelling his name. your cunt squeezing him made him come undone, cumming inside you.

he kept thrusting into you, riding out both of your highs, until you came down. he put your leg down, him slowly pulling out and laying down on you, being careful to not lay down on your bandage.

"that...that felt so good josh, oh my god." you started to play with his hair and rubbing his back.

"good. m' glad. i really wanted to make you feel good." his head lay on one of your breasts, paying attention to your breathing pattern.

"you..you really helped. i feel really good right now. thank you." you squeezed him into a hug.

he put one of his arms around you, enjoying the warmth of your body. "i'll always be here for you, i owe it to you. i'll stick bt your side, no matter what.

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a/n: womp womp sry if that was kinda mid (im a loser if u couldnt tell)

#future man #future man smut #josh futturman x reader #josh futturman smut #josh futturman

[dizzycoffee]

Oh my gosh I really love you Vox x Angel Reader!

Can we please get a part 2 of it but Valentino tries to take Reader away?

(Because you can't have a nice cup of tea without any drama 😏)

— Vox / Angel!Fem!Reader; Headcanons Part 3

it's a little shorter from the rest, but here you go !!

for the first post, click here ! for the second post, click here !

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ HEADCANONS ･*:.｡..｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Obviously, Vox put all his efforts in ensuring you and the other Vees DIDN'T meet

So when he comes to his private bedroom and finds Valentino and you pleasantly talking, Hell went on a blackout for good minute

"Voxy! How come you didn't tell me you were keeping this cute little angel?" Valentino's voice made Vox freeze for a brief moment, watching as the moth demon smirked up at him. Vox couldn't help but follow Valentino's hand, which was placed around your waist. Vox felt like tearing Valentino apart right then and there.

After you left for the day, Vox made it very clear that he didn't want Valentino around you

To which Val replies "But how could I do that when she's just so appetizing?"

Vox feels like he's going to lose it

At first, he feels like maybe Val is just teasing him. He thinks to himself, Val isn't that fucking stupid to actually go against his commands, not when Vox has been compliant with Val's own rules in his sets, right??

Oh boy was he WRONG

Those private moments the two of you shared became a trio hanging session

Vox HATED having to share moments with Val, especially since he hardly considered preserving your pureness

Val constantly making dirty jokes or offering you "a job" as "a star" made Vox sick to his stomach

You reassure him that you've heard worse by a certain angel coughcough adam but it still pisses Vox off to no ends

What's worse is that Vox knows that had he established a relationship for the two of you sooner, maybe Val would've had better decency

What REALLY drives Vox to become openly possessive was when Val had the balls to actually take the initiative with you

"Let's go on a date, pretty angel. I'll be sure to make your time worthwhile!"

Before you could reply, you felt Vox stiffen behind you. His claws dug into your waist as he pulled you back into his chest. You didn't turn to look, but you were sure he had a death glare in his eyes as he said, "Sorry to disappoint, but she's my girlfriend. Now, do you mind fucking off? We've got our own date to get to."

After Val had "fucked off," Vox and you FINALLY put a label on the relationship

He confessed that the simple idea of you being with anyone but him made his blood boil

He wants you all for himself, as selfish as it is

You tell him it's okay to be selfish sometimes, because as pure as you are, you selfishly want him just as much

Pulling you into a warm embrace, your wings instinctively around him, he also confessed that he loves you <3

#vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox headcanons #vox x reader #vox x y/n #vox x you

[void-and-virtue]

Neil as a team captain is positively delightful, because making him captain is both absolutely insane and absolutely brilliant. It capitalizes on the passive effect of having one (1) Neil Josten (god knows the world couldn’t handle if there were more of him) on the team in the most efficient way. Like. I’m 90% sure that after spending some time around him on the same team, most people will look up to him completely awestruck for how much he has impacted their lives, but that’s just not what is actually happening here. I feel like what’s going on is this:

Neil is a terribly amazing choice for team captain entirely because Neil is a meddlesome little asshole who will forcibly fix all of his teammates’ personal problems and improve their entire lives for literally no other reason than that he needs them to be able to focus on fucking ball so he can win at sports. It’s not even that he genuinely cares about people and their well-being (apart from his original foxes). He just gets pissed when things aren’t working properly because it makes Exy annoying when the lineup can’t communicate. Exy isn’t supposed to be annoying. Exy is life. He’d meddle whether he is captain or not, but by making him captain, he has so much more official executive power at his hands. It’s like people are explicitly asking for him to do his worst. So, fueled by his own competitiveness and love for the sport, off he goes.

Neil is just as bad as Kevin when it comes to his Exy obsession. The major difference between them is that Kevin is endlessly tactical and he runs Exy with a focus on a technical and physical level entirely, whereas Neil’s approach is to look beyond a lack of practice and basically psychoanalyzing people on why they are not doing 110% for Exy. Kevin says “let’s run this drill 500 times, then we will inevitably be better”. Meanwhile Neil is scheming how to coerce and bribe people into life-changing decisions and long-needed healing, entirely because he wants to optimize playing a sport. Exy is a team sport, which is why this is the most logical approach his little Exy brain comes up with rather than minding his own fucking business. He looks at the team and is like “is anyone gonna whip this into shape? No?? I’ll fucking do it then cowards” and goes and does exactly that. It’s like he’s fixing the equipment so he can play.

I don’t think anyone except for Andrew is really aware that Neil really isn’t doing this out of the innate goodness of his heart, but because his personal brand of practicality involves the most convoluted and creative kind of scheming. I feel like Neil is a lot more selfish than people give him credit for. Sure, there’s people he cares deeply and unconditionally for, but that’s really not everyone. It’s fascinating to watch, especially because it’s not like he ever hides that he doesn’t particularly care, but people kinda assume he does, because why else would he put in this much effort?

Exy. The answer is Exy.

#Andrew hates him for this #but I also feel like it’s Andrew’s favorite pass time to just watch Neil do as Neil does #you can’t take the meddling out of Neil #first year was Neil meddling on steroids basically bc he thought he was gonna die so he had to optimize Exy to play and had no choice #that’s how he fixed the foxes the first time #but even so #even if he doesn’t care about most of the new foxes or his eventual pro teams as much #I don’t think he will ever stop with this kind of stuff because I’m dead certain he gets so annoyed when exy isn’t exy-ing #that he ends up fixing problems the majority of people would not be able to eben pick up on just by association #Neil ‘he found their humanity interesting’ Josten #he doesn’t need the death threats to motivate him #somewhere in the background Andrew is watching his every move and realizing time and time again how terrifyingly smart Neil is #and how well he can put his observations to use in really ruthless unapologetic ways #and then Andrew is faced with the reality that all of that brainpower is being used for exy and exy alone #thinking about Neil will kill that man one day I stg #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg headcanon #aftg meta #character analysis #post canon #the foxhole court #tfc

[juanbodyswapstfs]

Im your Daddy now

Story suggestion by @mergeatrois

I’ve always been fairly close with my Dad. I really appreciated all the effort he put in to provide a safe home for me! My Dad and I have the same interests but are still way different from each other. We’re both huge Football fans and love the San Francisco 49ers. One of the reasons my Dad and I were totally different from each other was im gay, its not like I made it my whole personality and was pushy about it. My Dad was really accepting and understanding but I still felt like he treats me different.

The next day

I was at home waiting for my Dad to come home when I heard a knock on the door. I looked outside and it was my Dad with another Guy? I opened the door and welcomed them both in with a smile confused. “Hey Lucas! this a friend of mine I go to the Gym with his name is Mike!” Dad said. “Hey dude nice to meet you!” Mike then winked at me with a grin on his face. “Hello!” I said confused. “We’ll both be in my room then we’ll head to the Gym, theres food in the fridge.” My Dad said. “Make sure not to come in unless you wanna see something.” Mike whispered to me. I was so confused but couldn’t help but find Mike really hot. I decided to take a peek inside my Fathers room when I saw Mike and my Dad Making out and having Sex! I couldn’t believe it why would they do it with me in the house?

It was so weird totally hot. My dick starting getting hard and I couldn’t help myself but jerk off while watching Mike dominate my Dad. Oh how I wish I could be my Dad. I starting touching my dick grabbing it and jerking off, I imagined Mike fucking my asshole which made me reach my climax. Once I shot my hot steamy load I accidentally let out a moan which caused Mike to see me through the little open door and thats when he starting thrusting even more causing my Dad to moan like hell.

They finally stopped and I went to my room like nothing happened. My Dad came into my room and said he was going to the Gym with Mike, He then kissed me on my forehead. Before they left Mike said he forgot something and came up stairs into my room. “Hey Luke.. did you enjoy seeing your dad get fucked by a big alpha dominant man like me?” He said. “Why do you want me seeing that?” I said confused. “Here.” Mike said and gave me a bottle of cologne. “See you soon.” Mike said then left. I was confused as why he would give me a Cologne bottle.

Night Time

My dad finally came home from the Gym if he even went to the Gym. “Hey bud how did you like Mike?” My father said. “He was fine I guess.” I said. “Well, I have something important to tell you.” “What is it?” I said. “Mike and I are engaged, and we are getting married in two weeks.” My Father said. “Woah dad you did an amazing job at pretending to be straight!” I said. “Im sorry if you felt like I treated you different because you were gay son.” My Father said sincerely. “Its fine dad im glad you can tell me.” “Well goodnight bud” My Father kissed me on the lips and said goodnight. My Father has never showed me that much affection and I got a little turned on. Oh how I wish I could live as my Dad, being a daddy, old, and sexy. I tried and tried to go to sleep but just couldn’t. I grabbed the cologne Mike gifted me and looked at the back, Wish Cologne: Spray this cologne and wish away! I sprayed the Cologne with hope that I could become my Dad. I waited and waited for something to happen but nothing happened. I went to sleep hoping I would wake up as my Dad.

In the Morning,

As I woke up I felt somebody at my side.

“Hey gorgeous, ready to take my morning wood Lucas?” Lucas? How does he know its me? “Oh i’ve been wanting you this whole time, now obey me and licky my armpits boy.” Luke said. Lukes balls kept hitting my ass like a battling ram while his long thick dick kept inserting my hole filled with his hot steamy sperm. My Son interrupted our personal time, “What are you looking at Richard? Come over here and let your Dad fill your ass with cum.” Luke said. I inserted my Huge manly dick into my son while he moans. “Like that lil boy? Im your daddy now.”

Im really sorry for not posting in a while! I’ll be sure to make more stories and be active! Comment Story suggestions! ❤️

#bodyswap #himbotransformation #hunktransformation #m2f transformation #male body swap #male tf #male transformation #malebodypossesion #father to son #male body possession #dad and son body swap #menbodyswap #bodyswitch #maletf

[spenzitz]

DRAMATIC

inumaki gets sick and becomes an attention whore. sick!inumaki x reader, pre-relationship, second years, gn!reader

a/n ~ I miss him a lot, so umm, here you go. I really need to work on my masterlist. words ~ 2.2k tagging ~ @areihachi

inumaki doesn't get sick very often, but when he does, he makes the most out of it. he squeezes every last bit of sympathy from you because he just loves your attention. even when you catch on to what he's doing, he still gets an eye roll from you. so when he wakes up one morning unable to breathe through his nose with a terribly sore throat, he finds himself only mildly annoyed and actually excited for the coming day.

his first antic of the day is to not tell anyone. It's almost 8 am, which is when you all usually meet up in the morning, but inumaki decides to stay in bed. instead of texting you guys to let you know he wouldn't be there, he just put his phone on the bedside table and crawled back under the covers.

when inumaki doesn't show up, you all just assume he slept in or something, so you didn't really worry about it. you, maki, panda, and the first years are all out sparing in the field when you finally speak up.

"guys, it's almost 9 am." you say with a hint of urgency that no one seems to share as maki and panda give you a bored, uninterested look. "toge hasn't even opened any of our messages!" you say, checking your messages for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

"so?" maki says with a deadpan stare, honestly just annoyed you interrupted your fight with her. "so where the hell is he?!?" you respond much louder than you intended to.

you take a deep breath, trying to get the slight flush on your face to go away, and add, "whatever, I'm gonna go see what he's up to."

"where they goin'?" yuji buds in, now including the first years in the conversation.

"to go check on their boyfriend." panda answers in a mocking voice. "inumaki and y/n are dating?!?" yuji and nobara say in unison, megumi rolling his eyes. the two swiftly come up on either side of you, but before they can press you any further, you shut them down.

"it's not- we're not-" you pause, taking a moment to compose yourself. "we're not dating, panda just likes picking on people." you glare at him as he quickly says, "how about we all go check up on him, hm?"

"fine, s'not like we're getting anything done being out here," maki says, putting away her weapon. megumi doesn't really care, and yuji and nobara stay behind as well (probably to gossip about you and inumaki).

so you, panda, and maki make your way to his room. "I will admit that it's kinda odd we still haven't heard from him. I mean, not responding is one thing, but he's usually fast to at least open them." maki says. "he hasn't even played me back on 8 ball yet," panda adds while scrolling through his messages.

"he probably just forgot to plug his phone in again and overslept," you say, trying to seem like you don't care as much as you do. maki and panda see right through it, of course.

the three of you get to his door, and maki immediately starts knocking impatiently, making inumaki jolt awake. "c'mon toge! y/n's been worried sick about you!"

"OH MY GOD, MAKI. SHUT THE FUCK UP," you whisper yell at her, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her away from the door. inumaki hears you clear as day through the flimsy door and can't help but start giggling uncontrollably. despite his efforts to muffle his laughs through the comforter, the three of you hear him, and panda decides to just open the door.

he's still giggling to himself under the covers as the three of you walk into his room. he composes himself and peaks his head over the blanket just enough to see his bed head and the dark circles under his eyes. "kelp," he croaks out, darting his eyes between the three of you.

"toge... what are you doing?" you ask, approaching his lumped form. looking up at you with drowsy, sad eyes, he starts, "must-" he cuts himself off with an obviously fake cough that the three of you see right through. "mustard leaf."

you kneel down beside his bed and pull the covers down from his face revealing his markings. you let your eyes linger on them as long as possible without being too obvious, although everyone sees it. panda holds himself back from audibly cooing, and maki internally cringes at your current state. your gaze doesn't go unnoticed by inumaki either. the staring, along with your sudden proximity to him, causes him to blush and instinctively roll over to hide his face.

"hey! come here!" you say, grabbing his shoulder and rolling him over to face you, now even closer than he was to begin with. you place a hand on his forehead, and inumaki thinks he's going to explode. this little scheme of his has worked much better than he thought it would.

you keep your hand there a moment and turn over to maki and panda, saying, "he's sick."

"well, that's just great." maki says sarcastically, walking out of the room pouting. at this point, she has excepted the fact that she lost her sparing partner. "I think you can handle this!" panda says, winking at toge and following maki back to the first years.

"hey, wait! you can't... just.." your objection falls on deaf ears, and you realize your friends have left you with an attention-hungry menace.

"well..." you start as you lift yourself up from beside his bed. but before you can move away, you feel his hands grip your forearm. they're hot from his body temperature and being under the covers. he really was sick, wasn't he?

your gaze softens as you look from his hands holding onto you like a silent plea to stay to his face, pouting like a child. you can't help but grin at how cute he is like this, face flushed and hair resembling his look as a first year.

"i'll be right back, I promise." you manage to say, half giggling. his pout turns into a frown as he frees your arm and turns on his side away from you. "salmon." he says in defeat. you take this as permission and leave his room, heading over to your room to grab some cold medicine and your switch(you figure it's going to be a long day.) you also stop by the common room to get bottles of water and his favorite snacks and drinks. they may not be the healthiest, but you'd rather him eat something than nothing.

when you get back to his room, you see him still lying on his side, but now with his phone in hand, scrolling through his messages. "now you check your phone?" you say sarcastically, placing the items you gathered on his bed side table.

he turns over and says in a teasing tone, "tuna tuna," and shows you the 5 messages you sent him with only a few minutes in between them.

"hey, you coming?"

"istg if you're late again (｀^´ )"

"maki's getting impatient"

"we're going out to the field, just to let you know"

"are you ok?"

reading them over and seeing how desperate you must look makes you blush. you roll your eyes and go back to unwrapping the cold medicine from the foil. you hand him the two tablets and a glass of water as he reaches for the soda. "no. you need to drink some water first." you tell him firmly.

he sighs and has that child-like pout again. sitting up in defeat, he takes the medicine and water. while he takes the medicine, you set an alarm for 12 hours from now so you can remind him to take some more.

in spite of his protests, you tell him he's not getting any of the snacks you brought him until he drinks all the water. he groans and then slowly drinks all the water in one sitting. he looks at you expectingly until you say, "fine." defeated, you hand him a soda can and his snacks.

mouth full of food and well rested, inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing, you figure he's gonna find something on youtube to watch until you hear your phone ding not a moment later. sure enough, when you look at your lock screen, there's a message from inumaki that simply says, "I'm bored. ε-(´・｀) ﾌ"

you let out a small laugh before rolling your eyes, but he knows you're not mad at him. why would you be taking care of him like this. he really didn't even ask you to. you had no obligation to take care of him or keep him company, but you did. and that made inumaki feel all kinds of butterflies.

reaching in your bag you brought from your room, you pull out your switch and hold it up. "mario kart?" you ask with a dopey grin you can't seem to shake. inumaki's face lights up, and nods. you place your switch on the bed as you walk over to where inumaki keeps his plugged in. you unplug it and turn back to inumaki only to see that he's moved over in his bed and has the covers open while looking at you expectingly.

it was like he was inviting you to sit next to him under the covers. no, he definitely was, you conclude as he starts to frown when you pause, staring at him. you grab your switch and seat yourself on the very edge of the bed while handing him his switch, avoiding eye contact as you boot up mario kart.

apparently, inumaki was tired of your shit. he sighed, realizing what he had to do. while you're distracted setting up the game, inumaki swiftly moves his arm around your body and places his hand on your lower waste, gently but firmly pulling you closer to him, so your legs are completely touching.

your heart rate goes through the roof so fast it makes you dizzy, and you have to sit there for a moment to decompress. you admit that it's hard to calm yourself down when your crush is pressed up right beside you under the covers. did you even have a crush on him? you suppose you must have or why would this be so much for you. friends don't get this close to each other, right? he's sick, so he was probably just cold and wanted to be warmed up, right?

while you spiral, inumaki boots up mario kart. he takes your switch and creates the game for you, seeing as you need a minute.

"salmon?" he says, tapping your hand lightly with a concerned look on his face. you come back down to earth and realize he's waiting on you. "s-sorry..." you take your switch and start the game. he just loves catching you off guard or flustered.

soon enough, you both get into it, having a great time. you lose most of the time, but you were just glad inumaki seemed to be feeling better.

after about an hour, you were both fuming. honestly pissed off with one another. but in a cute, 'oh my god, i hate you!' kind of way. he shuts off his switch, tired and ready for a nap, you conclude.

"i should go back to the other's and let you get some sleep," you say hesitantly with a soft smile, about to slide off the bed. he takes hold of your wrist, but you won't let him have you that easy. you shake off his hand and pull the cover away from you. just as you're about to turn and leave him, he acts on his instinct that he's trained himself not to give into.

"stay"

you've heard him use his cursed technique on curses before, but for some reason, it has so much more weight when it's directed toward yourself. it doesn't hit you at first, but you can barely move. you're not numb, just like there's this insane weight to your legs stopping you from leaving. you can decently move your arms, but they're not much help.

inumaki wastes no time in putting the covers back over your legs and laying his head on your lap. it all happened so quickly that you're left there stunned, literally unable to move.

you're grounded when you hear little, even breaths coming from inumaki. his hair is still a complete mess. he probably wouldn't mind if you straightened it up a bit, right? resting your hand on his scalp, you gently lase your fingers through his messy hair. he really is warm. probably from his fever. you can feel the warmth from his body pressed up on yours, and it quickly lulls you into an almost-sleep state. you really should leave, you're sure your friends are talking about you and him right now. gossiping with the first years.

in his sleep, inumaki sighs and shifts a bit. you look down at him resting, and you find yourself staring at those damn markings again. you could only see one of the snake eyes from this angle. you wanted to move your hand and trace it so badly. unfortunately, that was when your body finally succumbed to his warmth. oh, well. you suppose it could wait until you woke up.

my first toge fic in a while (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

masterlist

requests are open!

#inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki fluff #jjk x reader #inumaki x y/n

[fuck-customers]

Why have customers decided that their shopping experience is no longer their own responsibility and they can just have us do literally everything for them?? Like whyyyyy is there not a single molecule of thought or effort put in from their end!!?? Examples:

- Googling the phone number of our store to call and ask what time we open/close (the opening hours are right under the phone number, including clearly labelled public holiday hours)

- Phoning our store or asking in person for information about another store in the chain (their hours, address, stock availability etc.) When they could easily google it or call THAT store

- walking into the store and asking the first person they see for help without even looking around first. Especially when they walk past the thing they're looking for on their way to an employee.

- not being able to find their way with pointing and verbal directions, needing to be walked over to and handed everything even when it's right in front of them and I'm pointing to it. Also the people that ask where the exit is when our store is laid out in a big square with a huge middle walkway and if you keep walking around in either direction you will reach the exit.

- asking questions that have nothing to do with me, information on other stores in the complex, asking for directions, asking touristy questions... Where's a good place to eat around here? How about the dumpster behind the store? fuck off

- wanting to start a new project or hobby and coming in without doing ANY research on it and what they might need to purchase and expecting us to give them a free class like we have the time/training for that sort of thing. YOUTUBE IS FREE. GOOGLE IS FREE. FACEBOOK HOBBY GROUPS ARE FREE. This goes triple for the Cricut ladies, if you are going to drop 300 dollars on a craft machine please learn how to use it. One lady asked me if her cricut could cut a certain cardstock and got mad when I said I'd never used one and she should check the manual

- wanting personal opinions on what to buy. There's a difference between "what are the benefits of buying x over y?" and "which one do you like better?" like for one we sell thousands of different things, I haven't personally used them all and secondly my tastes, opinions and needs for a product could be totally different from yours. So pick the one YOU like plzzz, you're the one paying for it.

- wanting to purchase fabric and not doing their measurements or calculations beforehand. Like babe, only YOU know how much fabric you need. Next time someone asks how much they need to make a dress I'm saying 10 metres because I'm going to assume they're making a ball gown

Anyway, fuck these dumb, lazy sacks of shit, I have no idea how they managed to get this far in life without firing a single neuron.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[maxybabyy]

inspired by this gif

He shows her a photo first. It’s not the one that he ends up ordering, but it’s close enough; the same pleated skirt but the cut of the shirt is different, the colour scheme changed too. Max, half distracted by the sim race she’s trying to join, says, “This is of course very American of you, Daniel.”

“Yeah? Did you bring the ears from last year then?” He asks and makes her squeeze further into the corner until there’s almost no space between them. “Gonna be a kitty cat again, Maxy?”

“For this, I will need also the –“ she says after squinting at the screen. She claps her hands enthusiastically and throws them up in a high V, the controller left in her lap. “The sparkly things for my hands, no? I think this will be very important, Daniel.”  

“I will get you some pompoms, baby.” He says, pulls her into a kiss when her hands still haven’t come down. “Maybe then you can do a little routine for me, yeah? Show me who you’re really cheering for?”

In the end, Max is let into the discord call and is allowed to join the race – even if she is away from her sim set-up. Daniel sits beside her and looks through uniform options, tries not to lose himself in the images of her on her knees, skirt spread wide over her thighs as she sucks his cock.

Max has a last-minute shoot with Red Bull, so he meets up with some of the others for a drink or two before the party.

It’s fine, if a bit uneventful. None of them has put much effort into their costumes. Alex looks great, but only when his girlfriend stays close enough to add complexity to the otherwise bland costume.

Max has been live blogging the shoot in their texts, another fluff piece to take the heat off Checo’s race in Mexico. And then at the end, sent just over an hour ago, a picture of the pompoms Daniel had made sure to order resting on a wide shot of Max’s thigh in the backseat of a car.

Daniel hadn’t replied, didn’t see it until now, but. He goes, downs the cup of shitty but expensive vodka and makes his excuses to Lando, who hasn’t stopped staring at both Oscar and Carlos at either end of the room like he’s at a fucking tennis match.

Max has her own drink in hand when he finds her, straw sucked deep in her mouth as she nods at whatever Charles is saying. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s obviously having a good time if the way she’s smiling is anything to go by. She must know he’s watching because she turns to look at him, eyes bright as she waves the pompom at him.

She looks fucking amazing.

The uniform fits perfectly, and even with the sensible white long sleeve that she’s wearing underneath, she looks fucking hot. When it came in the mail, he hadn’t told her it was a Chicago Bulls costume; the ‘Bulls’ on her chest the closest thing to Red Bull he could find. But he looks at her now and thinks, ‘Maybe they should do a rebrand.’

She’s wearing the same sneakers that she always is, black and practical, and her hair is tied back in her usual high pony, only this time with a striped ribbon instead of a beige hair tie. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Max has always been in a league of her own. In racing, in life, in Daniel’s heart –

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he says and leans in close when Charles has escaped with a choked-up laugh. “I would offer you a drink, but someone already beat me to it, huh?”

Max lets out a laugh, shakes her head. “We are of course not in Austin anymore, Daniel.”

There’s a smushed ‘3’ painted on her cheek in red; the font unlike what is usually used for jersey numbers, and instead oddly reminiscent of what it would look like on the RB19.

“Did you come here from the big game too?” He asks instead and puts a hand on her waist, his thumb poking under the fabric to rest against her skin. “Bet your team won real easy with all the attention on you, pretty girl. Hardly any eyes on the ball, I reckon.”

“Daniel! It was only golf with Checo. Always, he was very interested in the game, I think, but –“

Daniel breaks her off with a kiss when he cannot help himself anymore, pulls her closer to his chest for a moment before he steps back. “Did you come here with a boyfriend? A friend, maybe?”

Max stares at him, teeth biting into a lip that must have been painted red once. There’s still a bit of lipstick left, maybe there’s something on him now too. She must see something in his face, because she says, flushed, “Tonight, it is just me from the – the big game, of course.”

“Yeah? No quarterback waiting for you at home? I bet you looked hot cheering for your team,” he says, looks at the hand now wrapped around his neck, the pompom resting loosely against his chest. Max gives it a little shake over her head, the rustle loud in their tiny self-imposed space.

“It was a very lovely game, that,” Max hums, rubs at the eye black on his cheek. “The team, I think, is very good this year. We can of course win the ra – “ she takes a sip of her drink to hide the stumble, glares at Daniel when he laughs at her. “I can do the pyramid very well, so we will win the next match also.”

Daniel does want to hear more about Max’s ideas of cheerleading competitions, of the trophies and championships she would have won in that too. But more than that, he wants to drag her into the bathroom and make her come; fuck her open and loose so when they get back to the hotel, he can fuck her right.

“That’s your type then? Athletes?” He asks. He doesn’t kiss her, but he wants to, knows she wants it too. But they’re so close, almost there.

“It is very hot, I think, when they are also into the sport,” she says, her breath hitching when his free hand finds its way under her skirt, to the almost non-existent thong she has on. “When they are very good, I think that is very lovely also.”

“Do you have a favourite? Someone you’re just dying to meet, to fuck?”

Max whines softly, presses against the leg Daniel has shoved in between her thighs, “You are so stupid Daniel,” she says, breathy and hoarse. “You look of course very handsome in your little outfit, but always race car drivers are the –“

He kisses her, doesn’t let her finish. 

They’ve strayed from the plan; from the loose script he had in his head. But Daniel doesn’t care, feels greedy with it that even in this – drunk and unserious as they pretend to be people they aren’t – Max still cannot pick someone else, someone who isn’t fully and completely him.

#maxiel #maxiel fic #my writing #it's november and I'm the fool :( #i didn't notice the gif was an edit before someone pointed it out ... #AND first draft had them do halloweeen in LV :/ which i only now realised is wrong #my fic #fi #girl max

[masivechaos]

UNLOVABLE

wolfstar! parents x gn! reader

Request: yes / no

see the request!

Synopsis: Your friends just cancelled your plans but Remus and Sirius are there for you

Warning/content: crying, my English

a.n.: 0.9k words-

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

You were supposed to go out tonight. But here you were, curled up in a ball under the covers of your bed while trying to muffle the sound of your cries. You finally had the courage to ask your friends to go out with you, it was something difficult for you, you feared being rejected. 

You spent your entire life feeling like you were too much and always liked people more than they liked you. Therefore you decided to stay quiet, away from everyone but you still found people to bond with. Last week you felt confident enough to suggest an outing and you felt so relieved when they agree.

You spent hours organizing everything, you went on and on to your fathers about what you were going to do. All of this energy and excitement boiling inside of you just for them to cancel your plans the day before to hang out with somebody else.

That’s the reason why you were staring at the wall in front of you absently, letting salty tears burn the skin of your cheeks as you tried to figure out why you were so affected by people who probably weren’t worth your cries. You knew why deep down, you were no one’s favourite friend and people always wanted to hang out with someone that wasn’t you, who wouldn’t cry about it?

Lost in your overwhelming thoughts, you didn’t hear the knock at the door, nor when your father opened it slowly. “Pup?” You froze when you heard the sound of Sirius’ voice, you already were a burden for your “friends”, no need to be the same for your family. “Everything’s alright?” he asked softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sifting under him.

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t and it was enough of an answer for Sirius to rest his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing circles on the sweater that was supposed to be Remus’ but that you were wearing.

He knew you were supposed to go out tonight, you haven’t stop talking about it and by seeing you like this he was worried something wrong happened. “You’re not hanging out with your friends?” The question was clumsy but he needed to know. You shook your head, trying to hold back the tears that were menacing from falling.

Remus was observing both of you, leaning on your doorframe before sharing a look with his husband and leaving the room. He came up two minutes later with chocolate bars in his hands along with a hot cup of tea and a tissue box under his arm.

He joined Sirius on the bed “Hi, pup,” he said, kissing your temple as he set down everything he bought on your nightstand. “What happened?”

You tried your best not to cry “Um… M-my friends… they cancelled… I-” Tears fell down your cheeks as you explained the situation. You continued to tell them everything, all the effort you’d put in trying to be a good friend and how it wasn’t enough. It was exhausting to be you.

The entire time they were listening carefully, holding you, letting you know they were there. When you were done, Sirius bought a tissue to your cheeks, gently wiping your tears “It’s okay, pup.” He hugged you, whispering “It’s okay.” in your ear over and over again.

Sobbing, you talked, enclosed by his arms “Do you think I’m unlovable?” you cried. You were struggling to breathe.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, their hearts shattering in their chests. How could you think that? “No, you’re not, pup,” Remus murmured. He cupped your face between his hands to make sure you were looking at him. “Listen to me, Y/n. You are such a wonderful person and the best kid we could ever ask for. If idiots don’t understand how precious you are, it’s their problem, their loss.”

“But why can’t I find friends? Best friends?,” you sobbed.

“Because people fucking suck, pup.” Remus would normally would have scold Sirius for the swear word but he didn’t care. They were both mad that some teenagers made their child sad and insecure. 

Sirius took his time to calm down “One day, you’ll find someone that will love for what you are. Someone that will understand how interesting, fun and lovely you are.”

“When?”

“We can’t tell, pup,” Remus said, “But it will happen, don’t let some stupids people get things into your head. Don’t waste your tears for them, they are so not worthy.” The way he smiled at you made you feel appreciate and for the first time in a while you believed him.

Remus handed you a chocolate bar and you took your time to eat it “Do you want to do something to change your mind?” Sirius asked as he softly kissed your the top of your head. You shrugged and took another bite in the chocolate bar. 

You three sat on your bed in silence and you let yourself relax between them, their reassuring aura calming you. You rest your head on Remus shoulder and shut your eyes, you were exhausted from crying. Next to you, Sirius shifted into his dog form and curl in your lap, bringing you warmth.

Maybe you didn’t have so many friends and sometimes you felt alone, but at least you had two fathers that would do anything for you.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ wolfstar! dads taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rhydianissuperior  @loveeharrington @princess-paramour @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin-deactivated202 @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @imshiningjustforyou @vancitycharlie @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @venussflytraps @dori-and-gray @maddipoof

#margot is writing! ੈ✩‧₊˚ #wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #remus lupin #remus fluff #remus x sirius #remus and sirius #sirius and remus #remus angst #sirius black #sirius #hp marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #the marauders

[clockeyedtoy]

My call-out post on Necroromantics (Tomb)

Necroromantics on tumblr here has done nothing but be kind n supportive to all the ppl outkast, angelwowings n all those ppl have harassed and called names like freak, dm'd horrible things to, shittalked ppl who arent even friends w tomb.

Heres all the horrible things he says to ppl 🥺. Heartless monster!

Even after all theyve done w the death threats n the bullying and harassment all he does is try to move past it n be a better person n look out for others. How dare he!!

N as someone w bpd dont get me started on how he treats me. Its so abusive how he always makes sure im alright n reassures me constantly. N how ive dated him for 4 yrs n have seen his growth. Despicable! How dare a mentally ill person have times where they dont follow social norms n act on whats right/wrong omfg.

Lets cancel him for having bipolar next. Or is that too obviously ableist? No bc we cant say we're cancelling him for being manic we js have to cancel him for what he does while manic right? Bc thats how it works? Nd lets lie and ignore his paragraph form apology bc we dont care abt him actually getting better, we js care about the drama!

Lets not even start on how he put in the effort to talk to Seireitonin(?) during their mini "drama" to talk things out w her while all of u guys shittalked her in private and tried to create more drama while tomb wanted to hear her out. Or how ppl have come out n said that outkast n angelwowings r literally weird as fuck to other ppl who lack empathy.

Or should we talk abt how its so morally wrong that tomb lacks empathy n cant care abt ppls issues? Say that abt people with NPD too then. Not js the watered down versions u guys see on fuckin tiktok or tumblr. Accept ppl with NPD and ASPD n every other disorder where u cant experience empathy. Keep calling tomb ableist for not understanding social norms when ur actively hiding behind the "good victim" act js so u can be ableist towards him too. At least tomb had the balls to fuckin apologize to u nd still fuckin wish u all well.

Wtv this is literally so dumb. I know tomb very well n i would not fuckin put up with him if he was a bad person. He is literally so sweet n a good guy who hears ppl out and wants peace in life. I have seen him w his little sister how hard he tries for her. Ive seen how hard he tries w his friends, n with me even when my bpd acts up. U guys dont even fuckin know him n ur manipulating everyone w cropped screenshots n not saying how much u guys have bullied, threatened, manipulated, n harassed him. Ur pathetic

#most of this is sarcasm btw #creepypasta #necroromantics #tomb #axefreak #creepypasta fandom #outkast #angelwowings #tictocclock #aspd #antisocial personality disorder #bpd #laundry and taxes