#gold thread couching

[tanuki-kimono]

Mind blowing gold thread couching for this antique obi depicting a Chinese-styled dragon (seriously this couching must have taken ages to sew on considering what a pain in the ass couching is!).

This obi is paired with far quieter striped kimono with kanji spelling "rising dragon" (昇龍).

#japan #fashion #kimono #obi #dragon #ryuu #gold thread couching #embroidery #shoryu #rising dragon #shouryuu #kanji #couching #着物 #帯

[chilope]

i cant truly explain why but i almost cried yesterday while talking to a woman who studies medieval rus goldwork embroidery, who explained that there is a very particular method that is used to do goldwork embroidery called couching that keeps the thread on the top of the fabric (compared to normal embroidery techniques, where the thread goes over and under the fabric for each stitch) to conserve the very expensive gold thread and this technique is seen historically on more or less all examples of goldwork pieces commissioned by the church, nobility, or chivalric orders from goldwork guilds. however, rural gravesites reveal that lots of people, not just the wealthy, owned a small piece or two of goldwork embroidery, usually collars or cuffs, that were made by someone they knew. these pieces were almost universally made using typical embroidery techniques, meaning they used up twice the gold thread. something about the idea of people, so long ago, saving up to make something beautiful and expensive and special for someone they love, even lacking the specialized knowledge to do it the "proper" way, is so human to me.

[voidpetrova]

authority — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, objectification, mild aggression, very intimate and explicit sexual content described, choking, degradation — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: he can't help the fact that he's obsessive, practically delusional as much as sociopathic, but you love him. no matter how controlling he could be.

✧.*

control, it's extraordinary the tactics people employ to obtain it. some rely on deception, while others engage in outright trickery. then there are those who resort to extortion. a good amount of people? fear, it's an emotion they feed off. why do we fight so hard for control? because, we know to lose it, is to put our faith in the hands of others. and what could be more dangerous?

the coastal winds whispered secrets as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the outer banks. in the quaint beach town, where the search for gold led to twists of fate, another tale unfolded—unseen, yet pulsating with the undercurrents of possessiveness and obsession. for as long as you could remember, you've been caught in the crossfire of rafe cameron and his turbulent emotions. it wasn't something you had a particular problem with, you never made a big deal about it. sure, it ticked you off, there was no denying that, but you knew fighting it off was no use.

whether it was a skirt that was just a few inches too high, or a top that revealed a bit more cleavage than anticipated, not much was necessary to send rafe off the rails. it was apart of him, consuming him more with every upcoming day. of course, he'd have to face the consequences of his actions later on, and he always felt bad. sometimes, his aggression would be laid on a tad too thick, unnecessarily hurtful comments leaving you in tears. he would always make up for it, wrapping you in his arms, consoling you and kissing your tears away. however, in the heat of the moment, if his buttons were pushed just right, there was no going back.

on this particular night, it was just a few minutes past midnight. you had spent the past half hour preparing for a girls' night out with rafe's sister. you were already late as is, listening to the tv blaring as your boyfriend watched a movie on the living room, carefully staying focused as your phone lit up with messages from sarah. you slipped into a short, stylish dress that hugged your curves, unable to shake the feeling that every thread of fabric would invoke a storm within rafe. this time, you knew exactly what you were doing, you knew exactly which cards would be dealt, and you couldn't wait.

the air hummed with tension as you descended the staircase of the mansion, the soft click of your heels echoing through the grand foyer. you knew the minute silence struck, with the movie coming to a pause, that you would soon be in for it. you took a final step down thr stairs, making your way into the living room, your stomach in knots.

rafe was spread out on the couch, head resting on his elbow with his legs kicked back. at first he didn't turn around, the silence in the room practically suffocating. he knew you were going out, you had informed him earlier, but he wasn't particullarly fond of your decision. after that, you had spoken a total of two sentences, perhaps. when the scent of your strong perfume filled his nostrils, he couldn't help but finally turn around. his eyes locking onto you with an intensity that mirrored the swirling tempests off the carolina coast.

his voice, laced with a certain edge to it, sliced through the silent atmosphere. “where do you think you're going, looking like that?” the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the windows played on his features, emphasizing the dark intensity in his eyes. it was as if the mere sight of you in that dress threatened the fragile equilibrium he desperately clung to.

you feigned a sigh, your gaze unwavering. “told you i was going out, didn't i?” you knew you were going to play your part, but you knew rafe could only handle small doses of your attitude. his eyebrows perked up at your tone. “it's a nice dress, isn't it?” his jaw tightened, involuntarily, in fact, eyes low and heavy as they scanned you from head to toe.

there was no denying it, it was a gorgeous dress. a black one, clinging onto your body thanks to the straps on your shoulders. it showed more cleavage that necessary, hugging every crevice and curve perfectly. the way it stopped just inches above your knees only added insult to injury. he hated it, he hated how good you looked.

he cleared his throat, anger bubbling in the pits of his stomach. blood coursed through his veins, he could practically feel it, heat rushing towards every part of his body possible. he adjusted his position, kicking his feet off the couch in order to face you, as if serious. “you think 'm gonna let you go out lookin' like that?” he practically taunted, tone laced with venom. you shrugged, sliding one leg behind the other as if you were truly innocent, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

“well, my drinks don't pay for themselves, don't you know?” control was slipping through his fingers like sand, and the storm within him brewed. even the tranquil beauty of the outer banks couldn't make up for the storm of pure shit rafe was more than ready to unveil. “is that so?” he countered, the venom replaced with a low edge that sent a shiver down your spine. he was standing now—the faster your heart would beat, the closer he would come towards you. you could only nod in response in spite of how weak you were in the knees.

he was in front of you in a matter of seconds, the distance of a mere few inches separating you from him. his eyes bore into your frame, admiring how small you were in comparison, how frail you seemed. you met his eyes, as if to challenge him. “let me tell you somethin', sweetheart,” you didn't have time to react, he never gave you time—he wasn't exactly that gracious. before you could make any sudden movements of your own, you found yourself facing the cold exterior of the wall, cheek pressed against the rough surface. the brutal force of rafe's every move held you down, pushing you even deeper into the wall, with one of his hands making its way from your back to your face, wrapping around your jaw, his palm now pressing into your mouth, the weight preventing you from digging your grave more than you already have—you truly thought you would suffocate, eyes widening as his other hand held both of yours, straining and pushing down with a force you knew would leave bruises the morning after.

you were completely at his disposal, and you haven't even started yet. your eyes shot down to your phone, tucked into the side of your panties due to the lack of pockets. your handbag had been an innocent bystander, taking up space on the living room table. rafe lowered his head, tilting yours slightly upward in order to gain access to your ear. “guess you'll have to cancel with sarah,” he practically purred, removing his hand, only for a split second, to turn your phone off. his hand was cool against your flushed skin, fingertips grazing your bare thigh as he snatched your phone from underneath your panties, eager to rid you both of his sister's annoyance. “thought they had a policy against sluts, anyway.”

you scoffed, despite your compromising situation and position. “yeah? you should see how fond they are of me down there.” you knew you'd regret your words the minute they left your mouth, and rafe made sure of it. in a matter of seconds, you were back to facing him. he had let go of your hands, only to wrap his fingers around your throat, turning you around with such force, your back was slammed against the wall. once again, you were forced to meet his gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. for the first time in a long time, you were afraid.

“you must've forgotten who's in charge here,” he laughed, but there wasn't a trace of humor in it. his grip on your throat tightened, as if he knew you'd add fuel to the fire with your response. “must've forgotten that sluts have no place here, let alone a say in what goes.”

it was shameful to admit that his words sent a stroke of heat down your core, it was a disgrace. you felt filthy, his grip tightening with each passing second—it was supposed to teach you a lesson, scare you into listening, but you couldn't help the way it made you feel. it was something he picked up on, you could tell by the slight smirk playing on his lips. “don't even know why i bother with you,” he continued, as if he was doing it on purpose. “you love the attention, don't you? love getting put in your place like a bitch in heat.” you couldn't answer, weakly nodding, unable to stand against the truth. he saw right through you.

his grip loosened, but remained in place. his thumb trailed up your chin, pulling your lower lip down as he smeared your lipstick into your skin. he loved the sight of you, knowing it never took much to make a mess of you, thumb tapping against your lip. your throat was in steady recovery, but you parted your lips, making room for him. he grunted, unable to resist the way your mouth welcomed him so openly, sucking away at his thumb. he pulled back, only for a second, smearing your spit against your dimples, your chin. he loved the way you gave in so easily, letting him to you do whatever crossed his mind.

“such a mess for me, and here i thought you were going out tonight,” he practically purred in your ear, fingers slick with your spit as it travelled down to your panties as he awaited a response. you couldn't help but whimper, the feeling of his wet fingers against your clothed core sending you into tame bliss. he pressed his index finger against your slit, rubbing and silently admiring how wet you were for him. wet was an understatement, every slight touch had you soaking.

“so wet for me,” he groaned, pushing your lace to the side as a fresh wisp of cool air hit your now bare cunt. your back remained pressed against the wall, a single leg sliding upwards, knee digging into his chest to grant him further access. “please, rafe,” you exhaled in anticipation, growing heat making it insufferable for you.

“such attitude just a few minutes ago,” he taunted, but even he had his priorities set straight, more focused on the uncomfortable strain in his pants than your prior retorts. he had his free hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss while his other hand worked for him. you couldn't resist him, locking lips eagerly as your fingers pulled his hair ever so gently. he took that as his sign, index finger pushing past your walls before he kicked up a pace of his own.

the moans that left your mouth were delicious as a second finger joined the process. eventually, a third. his lips trailed down your jaw, too eager to stay in one place, before moving down to your collarbone. his hand had started to ache, pace quickening as he fucked you open with his fingers. no matter how many times you had sex—you were like rabbits—under any circumstances, no prep was enough for the size of his dick. every time, no matter how many fingers prepared you for what was coming, it was never enough. the pain was unbearable, the pleasure unmeasurable.

once he knew you were ready, he retracted his fingers despite your protesting whimpers. “don't you worry, baby,” he uttered out frantically, fingers desperately unbuckling his jeans, all too eager to rid himself of his clothes. “'m gonna take good care of you.”

the absolute sight of him had your mouth watering. his hair was slick with sweat, chest heaving as he took himself into his hand, thumb spreading his precum alongside the head, coating it with a thick layer. he spat onto his hand, grunting as he slicked his dick up, jacking it to coat it up evenly. it wasn't enough for him, his hand was never enough. he needed you more than you needed him.

“turn around,” it was a command, not a question, and you were to do as you were told, cheek once again pressed against the wall's rough surface. he sighed as he took in the sight of you, ass bare and back arched for him. “that's my girl.”

he hadn't planned on showing any mercy, he sure wasn't going to. under normal circumstances, he'd have given you at least a few seconds to adjust, but you knew that wasn't the case the minute his tip pushed past your slippery walls. the tip was only in for a split second before the rest of his length accomodated it. you couldn't bite any of your moans back, fingernails scraping the wall in front of you. rafe knew he wouldn't last long, not with the way your pussy was squeezing him, or the way you moaned his name. you engulfed him, swallowing his dick hole, the familiar sensation chipping away at your pride.

he held your hips down as he fucked you with long, deep strokes that made your head spin. “so fuckin' tight, holy shit,” he groaned, hips snapping as he watched the way his dick slid out, just to slide right back in. the entire sensation consumed you—the way you could feel every vein against your walls, alongside his length slamming into your cunt, in and out. you felt him outside as much as you did inside. “so wet for me.” you were practically dripping all over him, your cries bouncing off the walls as his grip dropped to your ass, grabbing onto the meat for leverage before disappearing, only to come back with a harder, rougher smack. he watched the way your ass bounced against his pelvis, turning the prettiest shade of red, as if encouraging him.

in any case, it worked. as if possible, his pase quickened as he arched his own back, allowing him to go as deep as he could, balls bouncing against your ass to accompany your cries of pure nirvana. his heart was in his stomach, he knew he was close. all he wanted to do was fill you up and all you wanted to do was get filled up by him. you loved the way he made you feel, with his tip hitting your sweet spot, sending tears down your cheeks while his shaft filled in the blanks, leaving you filled to the brim with his thick dick.

he never warned you beforehand, he didn't have to. as soon as his thrusts grew sloppy, but remained desperate, you knew he was close. a string of curses passed his lips, and that was all you had to hear in order to brace yourself, giving his dick a final squeeze before his hips began to stutter, cock twitching frantically in the deepest pits of your cunt before he let go. you both cried out, his left hand pulling your hair towards him as he buried himself in as deep as possible, painting your walls with his hot, sticky cum.

you couldn't move, you didn't dare to. he took the first step, dick still buried inside you, it almost pained him. his hot breath tickled the lobe of your ear, provoking you in the best way possible, once more. “sweetheart, you just lost the authority you never had.”

#outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx smut #outer banks smut #obx x reader #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader smut

[atyourmerci]

Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡

Abby painting all the things she loves about your body

CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms

♡ ♡

In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.

She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.

As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.

“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.

It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.

She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.

You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.

“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.

“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.

You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.

“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”

“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.

“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.

“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.

Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.

“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”

A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.

There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.

Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.

You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.

As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.

Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.

To be loved is to be seen

Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.

“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.

“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.

“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.

You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?

She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.

“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.

A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.

If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.

She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.

“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.

Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.

Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.

The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.

‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.

Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.

Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou x reader #abby x you #dom abby anderson #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #plus size reader

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

[beansprean]

time for exposition? no, time to look at him in his cute new outfit!

My Familiar’s Ghost Part 66

Masterpost

See new pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of vampire Guillermo sitting on a couch for a talking head. He is wearing black chinos, a red v-neck knit sweater with gold threading around the cuffs and neck, a gray and white button up with a heart pattern, black bat-shaped collar clips with gold trim and a gold chain, and new round glasses with gold arms and nose bridge. The lower third reads "Guillermo de la Cruz" with 'de la Cruz' crossed out followed by "The Great, New Vampire." Guillermo grins widely at the camera, fangs on full display, and holds his hands out in a ta-da pose. He says, "Sooo... I'm a vampire! For real!! I can fly, I can turn into a bat, and I even got to move into a real bedroom! Guillermo the Great is excited to get started on eternity!" 1b. Repeat, smaller panel. Guillermo sits with a giddy little smile, fists clenched excitedly over his lap, as he listens to the director offscreen who asks "So you don't have any memories of what your body was doing while you were separated?" 1c. Repeat. Guillermo drops his hands to his thighs and looks upward, smile turning a bit self-depreciating. He answers, "Um. No... I assume it was a lot of slaughtering, so. No loss, right?" 1d. Large panel, Guillermo waist-up in the bottom corner as his gaze goes far away, smile still in place but a little bit sad. Slightly embarrassed. He says, "I remember doing the ritual with Nadja and... reaching out... and then I don't know. I think I was dreaming. I woke up in the fancy room and... I was back! And a vampire!" Behind him are faded flashes of previous events: Nadja and Dolly sitting at the table while they explain the ritual; Guillermo and his soul reaching hands out to each other; Guillermo and his soul, who has taken the form of Nandor, pressing their palms together; the traffic light smashing to the ground and turning red; Guillermo pulling Nandor up into a kiss.

2a. Zoom out, Guillermo sitting on the couch. Offscreen, the director asks, "You don't think you're a ghost possessing a vampire?" Guillermo quickly straightens, head popping up and fingers lacing together over his lap. He replies, "I considered that! But possession feels different. When I was possessing objects in the house, it was like putting on a coat. I was me inside something else." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, the background turning into a softer version of his ghostly blue. He presses both hands to his chest and closes his eyes with a contented smile, continuing, "Now, I feel...complete." 2c. Zoom out again, angle slightly further left. Guillermo furrows his brow with a slight frown, one hand dropping to his lap and the other gesturing vaguely in the air as he explains, "I didn't realize how much not having a soul empties you out. But I've reconnected to it now, somehow, and to...um. Well." 2d. Close up on Guillermo as the director offscreen finishes his sentence: "Nandor?" Guillermo glowers darkly in response, shadows taking over his face as the background turns into rolling black clouds with angry strikes of lightning. /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #vampire guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

[jessmaybank]

Right here - Rafe Cameron

Based on the song Right here by Chase Atlantic

Outer banks x chase atlantic masterlist

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Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: in which a secret friends with benefits relationship gets messy.

Warnings: drug use (weed), swearing, SMUT, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, nipple play, oral (f receiving).

AN: lots of mutual pining, teasing, jealousy & angst. friends to lovers. This is easily my fave thing I’ve ever written. Flashbacks are in italics, enjoy!

I'm so far from the line, yeah

I'm too deep in my mind, yeah

If she calls, I'll be right there

That's three calls in a night, yeah

“Hey” she says quietly, phone pressed to her ear as she answers his call in the middle of the night, something she still hadn’t quite grown accustomed too yet. her voice sounded so delicate and sweet, it made Rafe’s head rush.

This was the third call she had received from him this week, and it always ended the same. Each time she would tell herself that it was the last, but here she was, tangled within her lilac sheets, unable to let the call go to voicemail. She always seemed to bend her rules when it came to him.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” He asks, voice tainted with something that sounded like concern, but she wasn’t quite sure. Rafe wasn’t exactly known for his ability to emphasise with others. Rather, his actions were always driven by his own selfish wants and needs, and he was extremely stubborn. That was was something which she learnt the day their arrangement started.

“Rafe, I swear to god, move. I shotgunned the couch” she said, arms crossed as her lips move into a small pout, her doe eyes hard to miss.

Rafe thought the expression was nothing less than adorable, observing the way her eyebrows were furrowed slightly to be more convincing, hoping to get some sympathy out of him. But despite the frown on her face, he knew she was biting back a smile. She liked being teased just as much as he liked teasing her.

The corners of his mouth upturned into an amused grin, something which should of annoyed her further, but it didn’t. Instead, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from matching his expression.

They were at toppers house, in the midst of a party which had just began to die down, the crowds of young adults sprawled around the large living room getting smaller by the minute. She had no intention of going home anytime soon, and neither did he.

“Not anymore, angel” he says, manspreading on the couch to get comfortable, but also just as a way to tease her further. But once again, the familiar nickname he picked for her, and only her, made it near impossible for her to be mad at him.

They had been friends for a long time now, so in theory she should have been used to it, but she just wasn’t. Every time the word left his cherry red lips, she felt like a giddy teenager again.

She sighs in defeat, tugging on one of the loose threads of his hoodie which he gave her, one of the many endearing gestures which made all the constant teasing seemingly tolerable.

“Stop being greedy and just sit next to me” he says, patting the empty space next to him. His shiny gold rings that decorated his fingers were a stark contrast to the dim light which began to engulf the room as it grew later into the night, and she began to wonder how one mans hands could be so attractive.

Maybe she was being greedy for wanting the whole couch to herself, but she was not about to be criticised by Rafe Cameron himself. He was quite literally the epitome of greed, even if she failed to recognise that sometimes, her delusion towards him a symbol of her naive nature.

She pretended to hesitate before sitting down on the couch next to him, the smell of her sweet perfume invading his senses, throwing him off track. She was the only person who could make his nonchalant nature falter so easy, and the feeling was so unfamiliar to him he almost felt uneasy whenever she was near.

Every time Topper threw a party, she had an end-of-night tradition. She would sprawl across the expensive couch with a blanket, smoke the pre-rolled joint she would bring with her every time, and slowly become one which the couch, her body melting into the white leather. Luckily, Toppers parents were gone for the week this time, so she had permission to smoke inside.

She turned her body, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, before draping her legs over Rafe’s lap. They weren’t exactly used to such affections at this stage in their relationship, but she was a bit tipsy, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him stop her from getting comfy.

Her squeaky clean converse dug into his thigh a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sent her a glare, and he prayed he put on a good enough of a show to convince her it was real.

“What? I warned you” she said, shifting slightly to retrieve the blanket which was hung on the back of the couch, throwing it over them both.

Rafe placed his hands under the blanket and rested them on her legs, just below her knees, the evening breeze coming through the windows seemingly prevalent. He was a bit cold in his t-shirt, but he would never dare to ask for his hoodie back. He noted how warm she felt as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her legs, and suddenly he wanted to bury his head between them.

She dug her dainty hands into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a slightly crumpled joint and a dodgy lighter. Her manicured pink nails made her hands look so fragile, and Rafe couldn’t fathom how one girls hands could be so fucking cute.

She lights the joint, the flame lighting up her face in an orange tint, the warm hue painted over her features a perfect picture to him. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled again and again, and it dawned on him then that he could watch her do anything, and he would never get bored.

“Sharing is caring, angel” he says, placing his hand out in front of her. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small grin which graced her lips, her sweetness practically radiating off her as she passed him the joint, captivated in the way he inhaled before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the living room, blurring their vision slightly.

Weed always made Rafe a little more touchy than usual. When he’s sober, his anxiety is always apparent in his tensed muscles or his clenched jaw, or the way he always runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. But as soon as marijuana was flowing through him, his mind relaxed, and so did his body.

he’s pretty dazed by the time he passes the joint back. He digs his hands under the blanket once again, running the tips of his fingers innocently across her thighs, relishing in her smooth skin. but the feeling it caused her was anything but innocent.

“Do you mind?” She says, her voice betraying her as it came out shaky. He turned his head, and when she saw the mischievous glint which lay behind his bloodshot eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

He had to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress a grin. He thought her flustered state was completely endearing, and he loved knowing the effect he had on her. “Am I distracting you, angel?”

“No” yes.

She hoped she was convincing, but he could see right through her, mostly as he observed the way she drew in a sharp breath as his hands travelled further and further up her leg, her skin tingling at his touch.

“You see, I don’t believe you” he smirks, shifting towards her, his hand stopping right at the hem of her denim mini skirt, fingers dipping under the material ever so slightly, as if he was daring himself to go even further.

“Rafe” she whispers. fuck. His name had never sounded so pretty until it came out of her mouth.

She took another hit of the joint, trying to distract herself from his dirty little games. But the higher she got, the more she melted into his touch.

She sent him a half-hearted pleading look, one which should of convinced him to back away, but unfortunately for her, he could read her like his favourite book, and the way her legs squirmed on top of him, parting ever so slightly, gave him all the confirmation he needed.

His fingers dipped under her skirt, the cold metal of his rings grazing the top of her thigh, cooling down her burning skin. She looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and relaxed a little when she noticed everyone left was either passed out or too engrossed in conversation to notice either of them.

His lips parted as he made contact with her clothed pussy, coming to the realisation her lace underwear was soaked. His shorts tightened as his cock grew rock hard, and he prayed she couldn’t feel it under her legs, but of course she could.

Her legs squirmed once again as he started toying with her clothed clit, her calf’s rubbing right against his cock, and he swore she was hell-bent on torturing him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand dove into her underwear, running his fingers up her folds, almost groaning as he felt her arousal. The heavy pants coming from her glossy lips were drowned out by the music which played from toppers speaker, and suddenly Rafe wished the room was silent.

The joint fell from her fingers and onto the blanket as he inserted two fingers inside of her, the pit of her stomach heating up as pleasure flows through her, sinking her body further into the couch.

He retrieved the joint with his free hand before it burnt a hole in the blanket, taking a hit before putting the roach into the ash tray next to him. She was shocked at how nonchalant he looked, pretending as if his fingers weren’t inside of her as they sat in a room with all of their friends, at risk of being caught at any moment.

He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, in awe of the way she struggled to keep her eyes open, the bloodshot whites in her eyes making her look even more fucked out. He draped his free arm on the back of the couch as he continued to finger fuck her with his other, and when their eyes met, electricity shot down her spine, entranced by his blown out pupils.

she lifted the blanket to cover her mouth as moans threatened to spill out of her, her legs now spread for him underneath the soft material. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone, he didn’t like the fact she wanted to hide her face from him.

He shakes his head slightly, tutting as he brings his free arm down, pulling the blanket from her face before cupping her jaw. “Let me see you” he said, his voice steady. And as she bit her lip to suppress a whimper, pussy clenching around his fingers, he knew he was in trouble.

“No, I can’t seem to sleep” she says, voice quiet through the phone, but he heard her clearly.

“I’ve been thinking about you today. Can you come over?” he says, and her eyes shut in defeat.

He would always do this, call her up and sweet talk her into coming over so they could fuck. Rafe never gave any of his feelings away, living up to his fuck boy reputation, and so everytime she would leave his house, thinking she was nothing but a warm body to him, she swore to herself she would never let him pull at her heartstrings like that again.

But just like him, her lack of self control betrayed her every time.

She takes a while to respond, and Rafe had to question if he managed to fuck everything up in a 2 minute phone call.

“I’ll be there in 10” she says, her voice sweet like honey, and finally he felt like he could breathe again.

Well girl, what do you think about

Staying right here in bed?

I didn't hear a word you said

I wasn't that high, I swear

Her eyes drifted open at around 8am, the morning sun making her wince as she tries to focus her vision, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her movements come to a halt as she feels the weight of someone pressed up behind her, arm draped over her waist and head buried behind her neck.

Her eyes widen slightly as she turns so she’s almost on her back, observing how at peace Rafe looked as he was cuddled up to her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds, the sounds of his breathing relaxing her somewhat.

She must of passed out before she had the chance to leave last night, which happened sometimes whenever they were together super late. Sometimes, by the time Rafe was done with her, she would actually struggle to move, exhaustion overtaking her limp body.

But this was the first time they woke up like this. Usually, she would stick to her side of the bed, and he would stick to hers, abiding by Rafe’s stupid rule of no cuddling, as if it would somehow cure his growing infatuation for her.

He was not a relationship person, and that was something she definitely learnt the hard way. Growing up in the household that be did, Rafe had always struggled with letting people in. His father had made it impossible for him to trust, and whenever he got close, he would bolt, too scared to let himself feel anything.

For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. So instead, he made a bunch of stupid rules, in the hopes that it would stop him falling too deep.

Peering up at him with tired eyes, she came to the realisation that she would let him do anything to her as long as it meant he was this close. She would let him walk all over her, whatever way he wanted, if it meant she could stay in bed, like this, with him, just for a little longer.

She almost jumped out of her skin as Rose called for Rafe from downstairs, and the moment she could see his eyes battling to open beneath his eyelids, she turned back around, pretending to be asleep.

he shifted behind her as his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to his surroundings. He mentally cursed his lack of self control as he observed the position he was in, but surprisingly, he didn’t move.

Instead, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair, the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo making him second guess every single decision he’s ever made. He trailed his fingers all the way down to the curves of her bare hips, before planting a sweet kiss on the back of her head. It took everything in her to remain still, to suppress a bright smile, but she did, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine at his sweet affections.

Rose called for him again, and he rolled his eyes, but he still just couldn’t bring himself to move. He trailed his eyes to last nights hickeys that were littered across her neck and shoulder, and he realised then that maybe, just maybe, he would bend his rules, if it meant he could stay in bed, like this, with her, just for a little longer.

It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends

I'm right here

Oh, baby, take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

His eyes spotted her as soon as she entered his house, seemingly uninterested in the party around him. She looked good, too good, as he observed her appearance. Her summer dress painted her figure in the most delectable way, and her glossy lips looked so succulent he had to hold himself back from kissing her when she sat down next to him.

“You look happy” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she speaks. The amusing look on her face subsided as she noticed the way he licked his red lips, his blue orbs filled with something she couldn’t place.

She lent back, still facing him, almost touching his arm that was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers close to her shoulder. It took everything in him not to run his fingers along her soft skin, a deep craving to trail his fingers over the freckles littered on her shoulder, and he had to question wether he was starting to go insane.

“You didn’t answer yesterday” he says, taking a swig of his bottle of whiskey, a usual favourite for him.

Is that why he looked so glum? It couldn’t be, it’s Rafe we’re talking about here. So then why did he look so doleful? She was burning to know, but she knew better than to pry when it came to him. So, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew he would let him.

“Can I make it up to you?” She says sweetly, and that caught his attention instantly, head turning to face her. Her doe eyes were glistening with desire, her organs pumping with adrenaline, and she swore she saw his features soften.

Her sinful thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and she caught the way that Rafe’s jaw clenched at something behind her before she turned around, revealing some touron she met at party a couple weeks ago. If she was being honest, she didn’t even remember his name, but she didn’t have the heart to be rude.

And just like that, she was ripped away from him, the missing warmth from her beside him making his insides twist in the worst way possible as he watched her disappear into the crowd, muscles tensing as he paid attention to how her hands were intertwined with his. Is that why she didn’t answer yesterday? Was she with him? His blood ran cold at the thought, his face contorting with disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair, taking an extra big sip of his whiskey.

He then focused his dull gaze on the empty seat beside him, and before he knew it, time started to slow.

They both sat naked in his living room, her heart racing as she straddled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The sweetness of her cherry lip gloss drowned his tongue as he hummed into her mouth, her insides tingling at the sweet sound as their lips moved together in a passionate kiss.

She realised then that she loved every single sound he made. Even if it was a rude remark, which wasn’t exactly uncommon with Rafe, at least it was something. At least she got to hear him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers entwined in her messy hair. His voice was low and quiet, but the words pierced through her heart as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs.

She noticed that he would only say nice things to her when they were fucking, and although she didn’t complain in the moment, she always felt uneasy afterwards, his empty words lingering in her mind.

“Yeah?” God. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, she wished she could just lay on the floor and let the ground swallow her hole. Maybe then, her conflicting thoughts would finally subside.

But Fuck, he loved when she was nervous because of him. Her shaky voice made his lips curl up into a smirk, pushing her hips down in line with his cock, watching her lidded eyes as she pushed herself down onto him, stretching her out and taking him whole.

“Your so fucking beautiful, angel” he moaned, not being able to stop his thoughts whilst he was inside her. In fact, he never could. Whenever they had sex, he would just speak his mind freely, not being able to hold back.

Her moans were full of sin as she began to bounce on his cock, digging her pink nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back in pleasure. He took the opportunity to wrap a hand round her neck, squeezing just the right amount, making sure he didn’t hurt her too much. He brought his other hand up to play with her nipple, pinching on the sensitive skin, and she jerked on top of him, making him smirk.

“Fucking addictive” he mumbles, letting go of her neck and gripping her hair instead, pulling her head forward to look him right in the eyes.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” she says, clawing her nails down his bare chest, leaving little red marks to replace the old faded ones.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and pushing her against the couch, her back sinking into the soft material. “Oh, I mean it”

Her eyes screw shut as he pounds into her, her breathing increasingly unorganised as his nails dug into her hips. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to it, and he had to bite back a smile as he saw how fucked out she was beneath him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness.

“I hate you” she says, a sincere look on her face. And if he didn’t feel her pussy clenching around him in that moment, he might of believed her.

“Earth to Rafe” Topper says, waving his hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.

“Jesus man, what’s gotten into you”

He shrugs in response, an unamused look on his face. “You playing?” Topper asks, turning his head towards the circle of people sat in the middle of the room. Rafe follows toppers line of vision, and his jaw clenches. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in party games, but as soon as he saw her sat in the circle, he was making his way over.

She sat with her best friend, Tara, laughing and giggling as she sips on her vodka soda. He sat down opposite her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“Rafe looks good tonight, doesn’t he” Tara says, a small smile painting her features, snapping her out of her daze. No one knew about their arrangement, and so she didn’t really have a right to be mad, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart sank at her friends words.

“I guess” she says, doing her best to mask her jealousy with a bored look, but it didn’t really work.

The games started off innocent, a few harmless truths and dares, but as always, it turned sexual very quickly. Topper was always the one to blame for that.

“Okay, this round is 7 minutes in heaven. You know the rules, if the bottle lands on you, you have to spend 7 minutes locked in a room with whoever it lands on next. No backing out” Kelce says, and her heart began to beat a little faster.

Kelce lent forward, gripping the glass beer bottle and giving it a spin. Rafe looked across at her, observing how her eyes were glued to the bottle as it span, and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to have to watch her go into a room with somebody else.

His thoughts were interrupted as their eyes connected, and confusion filled him as he took notice of her wide eyes. He looked down, and when he realised the bottle was pointed at him, it was like all the colour drained from his face.

People began to cheer around them, topper leaning over to pat his back, but she couldn’t do anything but sit, completely frozen. Kelce then span the bottle again, and her heart sank to her feet as it landed on Tara.

Tara giggled as she stood up, smoothing out her dress with her hands, but Rafe didn’t move, clearly hesitant. He tried to ignore the alcohol induced encouragement from everyone around them, and she had a sliver of hope that maybe he wouldn’t do it.

But when she saw him stand up and begin to lead her best friend into one of the downstairs bedrooms, it was like a dagger straight through the heart. She sat there for a minute or two, in her own world as she pinched herself, over and over again, to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her.

She made her way outside, pushing through the back doors of the house and into the empty garden, the evening breeze giving her goosebumps. She knew she only had herself to blame, he told her what it was from the start and she didn’t listen, but that didn’t make the pain any easier.

She sat down on the stairs of the outside decking, arms crossed as she rubs her arms, trying to warm herself up. She heard some commotion from inside, and turned her head to see through the glass doors.

Everyone cheered as Rafe and Tara made their way out into the living room, and she struggled to breathe as she observed the way Tara pulled her dress down and fixed her hair, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what went on.

Rafe’s heart sank as he returned, scanning around the room to find she was no where to be seen. His gaze landed on her figure outside, and he didn’t hesitate to make his way to her, ignoring the confused looks from Topper and Kelce as he walked straight passed them.

She didn’t have to guess who it was as she heard the door open, and she shot up, walking towards the pool, not wanting to speak to him just yet.

“Where are you running off to?” He says, a quizzical look on his face as he follows her down the garden, shoving his arms in his pockets.

“My best friend, Rafe, really?” She says, sass laced within her voice as she runs a hand through her hair, halting her movements as she stands right in front of the pool, the moonlight reflecting in the water ever so slightly.

“Nothing happened” he replied, and although he knew she would never believe it, he was telling the truth.

Yes, it’s true, Rafe may be known for having a wandering eye, but as Tara sat on the bed, trying her best to seduce him, he just knew no one could ever compare to her.

“Bullshit”

She scoffs at him, her features contorting with anger as she stares at the water ahead, knowing the second she looks at him, she would give in. “I know that we’re just friends” she starts, ignoring the despair in the pit of her stomach as she cringes at her own words.

“But friends don’t disrespect each other. And believe it or not Rafe, fucking my friends falls under that category” she shouts, her voice raised as she now turns to face him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends, okay. I’m right here with you, am I not?” He replies back, his frustration evident in his tone.

He wished she believed him. He wished she knew that sometimes, he couldn’t even sleep at night, too wound up in thinking about how soft her hair was, or how cute she looked in the mornings when they would wake up together, and she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“Yeah, after you had your fun” she mumbles quietly, but he heard it. Something in his mind clicked, and he wasn’t sure why it took him so long, but he finally figured out what was going on.

The corners of lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin, and she swore she had never been so close to punching him.

He takes a step forward, their shoes touching, and brings a finger to her chin, pushing her head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Your jealous” he says teasingly, his features a picture of pure joy.

“Your insufferable” she says, rolling her eyes, trying her best to be rude even though he was right. But all he could concentrate on was the fact she didn’t even deny it.

Her poker face disappears as he moves her hair off her shoulders, bringing his head down to plant harsh kisses along her neck, biting the sweet spot in the way he knew she liked it.

“Admit it” he mumbles into her neck, his hot breath making her insides tingle.

She debated it for a second, before she decided she had a better idea.

She palmed his cock through his shorts, trying not to get distracted by him as he lifted his head up, mouth agape, his darkened eyes illustrating that he wanted to devour her mercilessly.

And when she knew he was fully distracted, she pushed him into the pool.

Rafe emerged from the rippling water, his wet hair clinging to her forehead, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry” she giggles, bending down and crouching to get a better look at him, ignoring the glare that painted his features.

His glare didn’t stay for long, too caught up in how cute her laugh was. The cogs in his brain turned as his eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful look, and before she could react, he was tugging on her arms and pulling her into the pool with him.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, almost chocking on the water as she laughs, making sure to splash him in the face.

“All you have to do is ask, angel” he smirks, trailing his eyes down to her breasts, rejoicing in the way her hardened nipples were poking through her dress, like they were begging to be touched.

He swims towards her, skin glistening with water droplets, and she just couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute awe.

He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers, lingering there for a moment as he grabs her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her back against the pool wall. Her hands clung to his wet hair, and as she registered just how heavy her breathing was, she knew she was too far gone.

“Someone’s ganna see” she whispers, unable to concentrate when he’s touching her like this.

“Let them” he says, his voice hoarse. He brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek, before their lips connected in a sweet kiss.

One draw at a time, yeah

One more, you'll be fine, yeah

And I swear she was right there

The blue glow and the night wear

“Tell me how you want it, angel” he mumbles into her collar bone, trailing sloppy kisses all the way down from her breasts to her stomach.

He had turned up to her house in the middle of the day, not even bothering to phone her. It was rare that they spent time together during daylight hours, but she wasn’t exactly complaining. And as always, it had taken him all of 5 minutes until he had her striped down to her underwear, her black lingerie set making his head rush.

“Slow” is all she says, and he’s a bit taken back, lifting himself up so their face to face again. Rafe was an experienced man, but never has he once had slow sex. She lifted her head into the krook of his neck, planting sweet kisses along his skin and up to his jawline, occasionally biting, but not enough to actually hurt him. He came to the conclusion then that as long as she kept kissing him like that, he would try anything for her.

He hooked his fingers in her underwear, pulling them down her legs and revealing her drenched pussy. It didn’t matter how many times Rafe saw her naked, each time still felt like the first.

He buried his head between her legs and kissed her throbbing clit, before lapping his tongue teasingly over the bundle of nerves, small whimpers leaving her mouth at the sensation. She dug her manicured nails into her sheets, and she could feel him smirk against her pussy.

“You like that?” He asks lowly, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut as his licks got harsher, but remained slow.

He placed one hand on her stomach as he ate her out, looking up at her blissful state, and as she moaned his name, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

He pulled away, climbing up her body to meet her face once again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he lined himself up with her entrance, pushing his cock into her painfully slowly. The pit in her stomach grew heavier and heavier as he stretched her out, and he practically groaned into her mouth.

He started fucking her with slow but harsh strokes, gazing deeply into her eyes, and it dawned on him then that this felt like more than just sex. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it with lidded eyes, and as she looked up at him, she realised that his blue orbs had some green in them.

What he didn’t know, was that when he knocked on her door earlier that day, and she peered at him through her window, she decided that this had to be the last time they fucked. The jealousy and sadness that he brought on her was turning her into someone that she didn’t recognise, and she knew she had to stop before it was too late, before he had broke her completely.

She savoured every minute as he thrusted into her, digging her nails down his back, leaving little red marks. He replaced his thumb with his lips, tongue diving down her throat as she hummed into his mouth, their kiss sloppy as they were both moaning messes.

He buried his head in her neck, biting her shoulder gently as his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed at how good this felt even though it wasn’t what he was used to.

The feeling was so bittersweet as she let a single tear roll down her red cheeks, tangling her hands in his hair, only now realising that she had fallen in love with Rafe Cameron, and now she was going to have to heal.

Girl, I've been taking it slow

You know I've been taking it slow

You're sitting alone, why are you sitting alone?

Baby, just pick up your phone, oh

'Cause I've been rolling all damn night, whoa

She took a sip of her champagne as she walked through the beautiful flower garden, mentally praising Toppers parents for choosing to get married in such a picturesque place.

Her hair was plaited into two, with daisy flowers weaved into her hair, sticking to the floral theme of the wedding, and her lilac silk dress was accompanied with matching heels.

She walked to the end of the establishment, making sure no one else was around, before retrieving a crumpled up joint and a lighter from her purse, wasting no time in lighting it, staring at all the luscious plants around her as her body started to relax.

She’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she almost gave herself whiplash with how fast she turned around.

“Jesus! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to creep up on people?” She asks, eyes slightly wide as she takes a look at the man in front of her. He stood in a black suit, which she could tell was expensive, and a glass of whiskey sat in his ring clad hand, the condensation from the glass rolling down his fingers.

“Says the one getting stoned at a wedding” he says, smirking as he gestures to the lit joint in her hand.

“Hm, touché. But its the only way I’m going to be able to get through Toppers mums speech. I love Top with all my heart, but that woman is the devil” she says, taking a drag of her joint, watching as some of the loose embers fall onto the floor.

He laughs then, a real laugh, which for some reason melted her insides, and her cherry red lips turned upwards into a bright smile.

All Rafe could think about was how someone as beautiful as her could exist, and he didn’t even know about it. He made a mental note to punch Topper later for not introducing her to him.

“You like daisies?” He asks, and confusion fills her features for a second before she realised he’s talking about her hair.

“Uh, yeah. They were my mum’s favourite” she said, a certain dullness laying behind her eyes. His hands grew clammy as he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to intrude on the personal life of a complete stranger.

“I like it. You kind of look like an angel” he says, and he clears his throat as he realised what he just said, his forwardness even shocking himself.

Her smile never wavered as he spoke, features lighting up at his kind words, and suddenly she needed to know who on earth this man was.

“I’m Y/N” she says, leaning her arm out to shake his, her dainty arms no match for his muscular ones.

“Rafe” he responds, mirroring her actions, and as soon as his skin touched hers, she had a feeling he was here to stay.

She sat alone in the island club, watching her phone light up as his contact came onto the slightly cracked screen, the small vibrations of her ringtone filling the room. Her head fell into her hands as she sighed, doing everything she could to go against her urges to answer the call.

She had been ignoring him for a few days, trying to detach herself, but every time he called, she got closer and closer to caving. Everything she did was for him, and now, everything she was doing was because of him, and it was so painful.

Rafe was at toppers with the boys, sipping on his whiskey as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to his ringer as the call went to voicemail for the third time that night.

“Fuck” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch, the same couch where he had his first sinful encounter with her.

“Who are you calling?” Kelce says, eyes squinting with suspicion as he looks at Rafe, registering his stressed out state.

“No one” he replies, and it was impossible to miss the look that Kelce and Topper gave each other.

“Rafe, you might think you were being sneaky, but we know you’ve been seeing Y/N for months now. You guys are kinda obvious” Topper says, eyebrows raised as he confesses to his best friend, a small smile on his face.

“Plus, I saw you guys fucking in the pool the other night” Kelce says, and Rafe’s eyes widen.

“Shit” he says, not really sure what to say. For the first time in his life, he was stumped.

“You really like her, huh?” Topper says, always able to know what his best friend was thinking.

Rafe hesitated before nodding his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, rejoicing in the way it warmed his insides and numbed his pain.

“She won’t return my calls” he says, his mind a spiralling mess. He was trying to rack his brain to figure out what he had done wrong, but the more he thought about it the more confused he got.

“you have to make a gesture, something to show you care. Girls eat that shit up man” Topper said, patting Rafe on the back, Kelce nodding along with him. And as he was racking his brain for ideas, one thing did spring to mind.

Oh, baby, take a look around

I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out

I'm right here

She scanned the perimeter as she stepped onto the boat, the salty smell of the ocean wafting through the mid-day air. She spotted topper at the bar almost immediately, making some sort of cocktail concoction, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she walked up to him.

“Your late” Topper says as he spots her, the sound of the blender making it hard for her to hear, but she did.

“Fashionably late” she corrects him, gesturing to her matching bikini, lifting her sunglasses off of her eyes and resting them on her head, her hair cascading off her shoulders elegantly.

“Why am I here anyway? Frozen Margarita’s don’t really seem like much of an emergency” she says, eyebrows raised as an amused look paints her features.

“Oh but it is. I need you to test my recipe” he says, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed for dragging her out here for no reason, a margarita did sound good.

“Can you go get me some more lime juice from downstairs?” he says, and she nodded her head in response, placing her purse down on the bar before heading for the stairs.

The heels of her wedges clicked as she walked down the wooden stairs, heading straight to the downstairs bar. She flicked through the cupboards as she tried to find the desired lime juice, before her eyes landed on a glass vase which sat in the middle of the bar.

She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at the bouquet of fresh daisies, accompanied by a card with her name on it, and her eyebrows furrowed. She brought her hand up to stroke the fragile petals, and the memory of her mother plagued her mind.

“What the-“

“They were your mother’s favourite” a male voice says, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I remembered”

He pulled on her heartstrings as he stood in the doorway, a baseball cap sitting backwards lazily on his head, and a crooked smile on his ruby red lips that she could never get tired of, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t believe he remembered such a small detail like that, and she began to think maybe her prejudice towards him was all wrong.

“Rafe” she says quietly, clearly in shock, her doe eyes wide as he makes his way to her, and holy shit, he never really could get over how his name rolled off her tongue so sweetly.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since the day we met” he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare at him in awe as goosebumps formed along her tanned skin, melting into his touch as he brought a hand up to her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb before cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m sorry I made all these stupid rules for us, like no cuddling, or keeping us a secret, because the truth is, every time your near, it takes every ounce of my self restraint not to touch you, or not to tell you that every inch of me belongs to you” he says, wrapping one hand around her waist, pressing her body against his, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how fast hear heart was beating right now.

“I only did those things because I was scared of actually letting someone in” he says, finally letting himself breathe as he paused. “Scared of having to admit that I love you, angel”

She grinned like a cheshire cat as he finished his sentence, admiring the way his cheeks blushed with a faint redness as he poured his heart out, and she swung her arms around his neck tightly, never wanting to let go.

“I love you too” she says, before reaching up on her tiptoes and claiming his lips in a gentle kiss.

“You know i would do anything for you, right?” She whispers against his lips, practically breathing the same air as him, and just like that, his signature smirk was back.

“Well in that case, how about you start with taking this flimsy thing off” he says, pulling on the straps of her bikini top, a small giggle leaving her glossy lips as she playfully hit his arm.

“Gross. Please don’t” Topper says, and they both jumped out of their skin as they spotted him in the doorway, arm leant against the wooden frame with a smug look on his face.

“Jesus! How long have you been standing there?”

Oh, baby take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

#obx #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron fwb #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc

[buckyysdoll]

— 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 —

જ⁀➴ — summary: tired and tipsy, how much you’ve missed bucky reminds him of a question on his mind; cw: none, a little angsty?; pairing: bucky {fatws} x fem!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

You felt the mattress dip behind you as though taking on new weight, and though half asleep your body responded to the presence of your boyfriend in bed.

It seemed just his scent was enough, just the way a room changed every time he was in it. That, and how the bedding dipped and moulded to his shape, as he pulled the cover over him and shifted close to you.

Even through your cotton pyjamas, you still felt the warmth of his body on yours, and you were grateful to nestle back into it as one of his arms came around to settle at your waist.

With a light, sleepy kiss to your ear, to the sensitive shell, he laid his head by you, close. With his front to your back like this you were laying flush as one, and only sharing one pillow.

Bucky’s breath was warm on your neck, and so wholly intimate. His breathing was soft. The fresh smell of him filled up the bed and your heart.

It was your favourite scent.

Freshly clean from a shower, the dark strands of his hair were not quite dry. And so could you faintly smell within it those notes of the soap you’d only bought him last week.

The rain was lashing down outside upon the rooftop of your shared apartment, it being by now full autumn with the wind high beyond your dark windows. In that moment, you thought, as you felt Bucky's frame relax wholly into your own, you were so content you could’ve cried had you not been so at peace.

It was years in the making, this life — and he made the fight so worth it each, every day.

And so, you threaded your fingers throughout Bucky’s own where his hand rested at your waist, tracing light patterns with the pads of your fingers against the soft skin, somehow warm while you were cold. Thankful as always for his body heat — and just for his love — you raised it to your lips, pressing your mouth so clumsily, sleepily, to it with a sigh.

He was here. He was home.

Bucky’s curve of a smile was a shiver at your neck where he breathed you in deep. Close never was quite close enough with your boyfriend of now six months.

You turned in his arms, ungracefully moving to shift from beneath the thick quilt. “You’re home,” you whispered when at last you then faced him, and he looked at you with those eyes that, while clearly tired, were so soft with love.

You raised your other hand and softly placed it on his cheek and he held you gently by the wrist with his, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to the inside canal, his eyes shuttering closed.

Right then his expression was devout, and it warmed you at once in all the places that counted. Your sleepy smile, he swore, was worth beyond its weight in gold, even if you were quite oblivious to how he had carried you to bed just fifteen minutes before.

For he knew that you barely slept anywhere until you knew that Bucky was home; you’d lay on the couch with the tv still running or a half open book, waiting up for him late.

This time though, just like so many times before, your James came in through the front door — came in so quietly, as always, and saw you so peaceful; loath to disrupt your sleep.

And so after nights of just laying a blanket over your shoulders and letting you rest — and the subsequent beratings in the following morning when you insisted that he wake you when home — it was your promise now to one another to make sure you said your “goodnights” every time.

It went like this: you would wait up for him every night on that old, lumpy couch, but each time he’d come in and take you to bed straight away.

He would shower, then join you.

So now Bucky just whispered “I’m home,” with that small, secret smile he wore just for you. You must’ve been deeply asleep to not have felt him lift you, and carry you gently; for ordinarily you would’ve awoken in his arms just from this routine, the familiar touch.

One that right now you needed to feel even closer than you physically could.

Bucky released your wrist as though reading your mind — you always were attuned to each other. And as you ducked down a little to settle with your head against his chest, his vibranium hand came up to card chilled, metal fingers through the length of your hair.

Down from the crown of your head to the end of the strands, and right back up again; gently brushing your forehead with each loving stroke of that part of him you loved with the rest.

And damn you to hell, for vibranium metal was freezing in the september chill.

“S cold,” you laughed, just barely awake, numb to all the world around you but for him. It was the glasses of wine you’d drank all night with Sarah while the boys were away — now you felt blushy and giddy with love as you hitched up your leg between Bucky’s own thighs.

He murmured “Sorry, doll” against your hair and again, you felt him smile against the crown of your head, sounding more teasing than sorry at all as his hand moved to smooth soothing circles down your back.

“Did you have a good girls night tonight?” The question was a whisper, soft as velvet in the dark.

And god, Bucky’s voice when nearly asleep made you almost see religion in him.

You stifled a yawn mid-sentence as you said, “It was lovely, ‘s always so good to see her.

“But she had to” — and again you yawned — “leave earlier cos ‘f something with the” — another yawn — “babysitter.”

And it was true. It didn’t matter how often you saw each other — which was frequent now, with Sam and Bucky’s friendship — you simply adored her company and the sheer vibrancy it always brought.

But now you saw only him.

Seconds passed in the quiet, Bucky whispering about his day in answer to your own questions. With each word you seemed to come more fully awake, as though no drunken fatigue could keep at bay the slow-spreading cold taking root in your chest.

There was a crease to your brow as you upturned your head and met Bucky’s eyes once again, now fully honest as you flattened out your fingers on his t-shirted chest, toying with the thin fanfic.

“I worry so much when you’re gone.”

And then again just like that, at the open admission, you felt quite sobered up. This raw ache of missing him, so built up across the weeks, rose and crested as you held his gaze. “And I miss you — God, I miss you.”

The crack in your voice broke his heart, as did the sudden tears that welled in your eyes. It was all he could do just to hold you, to hope against reason he could pluck up some courage. “I know, doll,” that soft voice bled, “and I miss you all the time. More than I can say.”

His throat dipped beneath the swallow of his nerves.

Tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.

He’d choose you and this life you’d made and finally stop the fight; he’d do exactly as he’d told Sam today he intended to do —

Retire and grow old with you.

And so as he heard your breathing even out again to sleep, as his heightened senses told him you were resting at long last, he made a silent vow to you both that such worries would change — and change soon.

Starting with the engagement ring still burning a hole in the pocket of his black leather jacket.

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

#fanfic #fanfic writer #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female!reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #marvel bucky fanfic

[stars4gojo]

Invisible string

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // Young Megumi and Tsumiki mentioned at the end // fluff angst if you squint, found family trope // 1k words

(Not proofread pls don’t kill me for any spelling or grammar mistakes)

Megumi is yet again in another fight but refuses to open up about this one leaving you and Gojo confused and worried

One single thread of gold tied me to you

More of my work 🤍

You’re sitting in the teachers lounge at Jujutsu high alongside Shoko, who’s drinking her daily dose of caffeine while you go through your paperwork.

You pay no mind when Gojo flops on the couch next to you whining loudly to grab your attention. 

You ignore it the first time, you let it slide the second but now it’s the third time and you’re slowly losing your patience.

“You’re just really gonna leave me hanging like this?” Gojo asks raising his blindfold from one eye so he can see you clearly. 

You let out a deep sigh as you turn towards him giving him a deadpanned look. 

“I’m busy right now Satoru.” You replied as you went back to finishing up paperwork. 

“Too busy for me? Your strong, beautiful, handsome boyfriend?” Gojo asked and you could almost hear the pout forming on his lips. 

Shoko let out a little chuckle, “You sure he’s good mopping around like that?” She asked in amusement.

“Let him be, he’s probably gonna complain about Megumi again.” You replied as if you were used to his antics.

“Megumi..?” Shoko questioned as she pondered to herself you just shook your head in response with a smile tugging on your lips at your friend’s forgetfulness. 

“Ah! The Zenin child?” Shoko asked as she snapped her fingers and you only hummed in response.

“So Gojo what about the Zenin?” Shoko asked now turning her attention towards your sulky man child. 

“Well I’m glad you asked Shoko, unlike some people here.” Gojo replied, suddenly energetic - putting emphasis on the word some. 

“He has a great technique and potential but he’s just, so ugh what’s the word for it..” Gojo started as he thought about his word choices.

“Satoru if you’re here to complain to us about how you’re getting bullied by a 7 year old we don’t wanna hear about it.” You replied while a little chuckle escaped your mouth.

Gojo squinted his eyes at you as he continued, “Well you wouldn’t know how it feels! Cause as soon as you’re there he’s all rainbows and unicorns and suddenly wants to eat all of his vegetables and wants to brush his teeth on time.” He rolled his eyes.

You got up from your seat making way to the couch, holding his face in your hands.

“I’m sorry Toru.” You said as his eyes lit up. “Is there anything I can help with?” You added.

“You two make me sick” Shoko spoke under her breath as she got up making her way out of the room. 

“Megumi got in a fight again in school and he’s refusing to do any training today.” Gojo said with a sigh.

“He got into another WHAT?” Satoru i told you to contact me when this happens. Did you get called into school? God please help me if you told him to use cursed energy when he gets into fight again because I will NOT be holding back.” You spoke fast, clearly distressed.

“Relax y/n I spoke to the teacher and I did not tell him to tuck his thumb this time or use cursed energy.” He said and you could only sign in relief. 

“It’s just that he…he’s not sharing why he fought in the first place.” Gojo started speaking as his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“Well usually, he says that they were bullies but this time his mouth his shut couldn’t even get him to open up during a froyo session.” Gojo added.

“So please just talk to him? You always seem to know what to say and he likes you more anyways.” Gojo asked and your heart melted a little at his sincerity. 

“Ok, I’ll pick him up from school tomorrow and I’ll speak to him. You don’t worry about it you big baby.” You replied as you pinched his cheeks. 

So, this is how you found yourself picking up Megumi from school and he was more than shocked to see you waving at exactly pickup time - Gojo almost always runs late or sends Ijichi to pick him up instead.

“Hi Megumi how was school.” You asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“You’re not at work today?” Megumi asked as he put his eyebrows up in question.

“Well I wanted to talk to you Megumi, why’d you get into a fight yesterday hm?” You asked softly, being extra cautious.

“I told him not to tell you, I knew you’d be mad.” Megumi huffed out.

“Mad? Gumi I’m not mad at all i just wanna know why it happened so I can help you.” You replied looking at him through the rear-view mirror. 

“Well they were saying mean things.” He huffed again folding his arms to his chest. 

“Were they saying mean things to someone else? Or was it about you Megumi? You need to tell me so I can help you.” You asked gently.

“It was nothing you need to worry about.” Megumi harshly spoke back and you could only frown in response.

“I won’t be mad.” You added.

“They said mean things about me.” He replied after a minute of silence.

“What did they say Megumi?” You asked again.

“They said I don’t have a real dad or mom and that their moms tell them to not hang out with me cause you and Gojo are weird.” He said avoiding eye contact, embarrassed about getting worked up over something like this.

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, not knowing where to start.

“You don’t have say anything I don’t have a mom or dad but it’s okay cause I’ve got you guys.” He said, almost murmuring as a light blush formed on his already rosy cheeks.

“You’re right Megumi, you don’t have a mom or dad but you have me and Gojo. You know we love you and Tsumiki a lot so next time someone says anything about you or our family you go straight to a teacher or tell me or Gojo and we will figure it out hm?” You asked turning around for a second to give him a reassuring smile as he nodded in response.

“Right, you do know that you owe Satoru an apology for yesterday? Skipping out on lessons and being mean to him.” You questioned while raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah yeah I’ll do that.” He spoke putting his head down in shame as you could only giggle.

To be fair those parents were not wrong, Gojo definitely gave everyone the wrong impression from his immature humour and Megumi’s dad did walk out on him but, that’s okay because your little, slightly dysfunctional family is now his home and forever. 

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen icons #jujutsu kaisen incorrect quotes #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #gojo scenario #gojo imagine #gojo icons

[ericafails]

Sewed and embroidered my own red envelope this year. Did a couching stitch with a metallic gold thread. I don't know if I'll keep doing this for the next 11 years. We'll see!

#embroidery #fiber art #fabric art #chinese new year #dragon #sewing #red envelope

[afewproblems]

Prompts!

50. “I need you to forgive me.”

OR

53. “I’m flirting with you.”

Whichever vibe you’re feeling ☺️ -steddierthings

Ahhh! Thank you for this @steddierthings this one got sad, even though I ended up going with 53. "I'm flirting with you."

"Eddie! Eddie, wait!" Steve calls after him, tearing down the hallway as Eddie makes a beeline for the front door, an angry flush staining his cheeks and neck.

Eddie ignores the urgency in Steve's voice as he grabs the door handle only to stumble as a pair of hands grasp his shoulders.

"Eddie please--"

"Just fuck off," Eddie snarls, whirling around to face him. Who the hell did he think he was, that Steve could say these things, do these things, without any consequences?

Steve flinches, raising his hands in surrender, but he holds his ground as he steps closer, expression determined.

"If you would just let me explain--"

Eddie laughs over Steve's words, a harsh mirthless sound, "explain what exactly?" 

It was one thing for Eddie to quietly pine from afar, to know in his heart of hearts that his feelings could never be returned. 

It was another to have them thrown in his face like this. 

"I know you told me a little about Ozzy that day, you know in the woods?" Steve says softly as he replaces the Tears for Fears cassette with another tape -this one with a handmade label on both sides. 

"And I know you like, uh, Metal and rock music," Steve continues, ignoring the pained snort Eddie makes from his position on the couch. 

It's another night, just the two of them. 

Robin left them about an hour ago to finish their movie, 'alone,' though why she said it that way, Eddie has no idea. 

"So I made this for you," Steve says, pressing play on the cassette player in the Harrington living room.

A mixture of synth and guitar pour out from the speakers as drums soon join them, snapping out a heavy rhythm as the singer starts, his voice a little higher than Eddie was expecting for the music.

'We are secrets to each other

Each one's life a novel

No-one else has read

"It's uh, Rush, do you know them?" Steve says in a near whisper as he walks back to where Eddie is sitting on the couch. He's playing with his fingers, picking at his thumbnail in the same way Robin does when she's nervous, but what the hell would Steve have to be nervous about right now, Eddie thinks to himself as Steve sits down with a shy smile. 

'Even joined in bonds of love

We're linked to one another

By such slender threads'

"I uh, thought you might like the guitar in it, it's not as like, present as some of their other songs though," Steve mumbles with a shrug as he continues looking at Eddie with soft eyes.

He's moving closer now, close enough that Eddie can feel the warmth of Steve's breath on his face, what the hell is he doing?

"Yeah, I've heard of them, they aren't really my thing," Eddie says nervously, inching backward, his eyes widen as Steve follows him, his eyes drop down to Eddie's mouth so quickly he nearly misses it.

'I think it's time for us to realize

The spaces in between

Leave room

For you and I to grow'

"Eddie," Steve whispers, his eyes flutter nearly closed, "can I, I really like you--"

No. He can't think about it again.

He can't think about the freckles he counted, dusting Steve's nose, the flecks of green and gold in his eyes just before they closed to reveal long brown lashes. 

The way his nose felt as it brushed Eddie's own just before he scrambled away across the couch, leaving Steve there with confusion and alarm painted across his face.

It would have been so easy to let himself have this, to go along with whatever prank Steve had obviously concocted. Even if it meant letting him shatter Eddie's heart, just so he could have the chance to feel those lips against his own just once.

"You got me King-Steve, let's all make fun of the freak right?" He scoffs and reaches behind himself for the door handle again.

"I'm flirting with you, Eds, I promise," Steve insists, moving closer into Eddie's space, he reaches for his shoulders again only for Eddie to turn the handle and evade Steve's hands as he steps over the threshold.

"Asshole," Eddie huffs as he makes his way back to his van, leaving Steve standing on his front step, watching mournfully as Eddie gets into the van and peels out of the driveway.

Part Two and Part Three

#beep boop misunderstandings again #steddie #unrequited love or is it #mutual pining #steve harrington #eddie munson #short and sweet or rather short and sad #afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #I was considering following this up with the second prompt in this ask #I need you to forgive me #because that could absolutely work #I hope you enjoy!

[readychilledwine]

Crawl Home To Her

Summary - While Ruhn is being tortured by Lydia, his brain starts to force him to escape by replaying memories of the girl he left. Only in each memory, a giant golden thread starts to appear glowing brighter each time.

Warnings - torture, angst, smutish

A/N - I had to get this posted before baby daddy changes this song for me completely. He sings it to our daughter when he's trying to get her to settle in for a nap, he dances to it with her in the kitchen when he's trying to calm her down. It's their song ❤️

Ruhn could barely feel the strikes from the female he had given everything up for. The one he had left her for. His head whipped as pain exploded through his jaw but was quickly numbed as his brain took him somewhere else.

Music blared through the speakers at the house party Bryce's friend was throwing. Ruhn, Dec, and Ithan had agreed to go at the mention of her friend's ability to manipulate plants and how she had managed to grow and harvest a mirthroot strain that made Bryce feel like she was flying. Hunt had rolled his eyes at the mention of her friend. As if there was something they weren't telling the rest of them.

Ruhn smiled as his younger sister ran, squealing to a gorgeous female. Hunt chuckled softly at the look on Ruhn's face. The prince was trailing his eyes over the female's long thick muscled legs, her ass his hands were twitching to squeeze, the small curve of her stomach, her trim waist, her pushed up breasts threatening to spill from the black lacy shirt she was wearing. "I get you like what you're seeing, Ruhn, but I'd appreciate you not drooling over my little sister."

"That's your sister?" Hunt nodded as the female began to wave at him, bright white teeth on display as she smiled. "She got a husband?" Hunt immediately shot Ruhn a tight glare.

"No."

"Does she want one?"

Ruhn groaned as he was thrown back into his cell and curled up on the ground. He knew at least one rib was broken, his jaw burned, he tried to squeeze his hands in silent confirmation of the damage there as well. It was also definitely broken. He willed his mind back to the night he met her.

Ruhn had continued to stare at Bryce's friend as the two girls smoked and talked. He, Declan, and Hunt had only gone over there long enough to steal some mirthroot from the long-haired beauty and then made their way to the couch. Bryce was beginning to fade softly into her friend's chest before fully giving in and leaning into her solely for support.

"Hunt," Ruhn's ears twitched at her voice, it sounded like soft spring rain, "are you and Bryce staying the night?" Hunt barely moved his eyes to acknowledge her or Bryce. Ruhn had rarely seen the Umbra Mortis this fucked up. "Yeah, you're all crashing here." Ruhn watched as she moved Bryce gently up the stairs. A faint silver thread was attached to her. Right at her heart.

Ruhn came back to reality as someone gently touched him. He looked up at the face he'd been drifting off to. A gold thread was attached to her. He reached up to touch her face and felt a sob hit him when his hand went through her like mist. "I'm not physically here, honey. I'm just here Astrally trying to figure out where you are. We're coming, we have some.. interesting help. Hold on okay?" She stroked his bruised face causing another memory to flash into his mind.

Ruhn had grown increasingly close to the female he had met at the house party 6 months ago. She was currently in his lap, their lips attached as his hands roamed the curve of her ass. She pulled away from him and leaned their foreheads together. The two of them were nothing more than friends. At least, that's what he told himself. Friends who almost weekly had very intense make-out sessions to help Ruhn release tension. He stroked her face lightly before pulling her back into him.

The reality of how desperately he wanted her set in once he fisted her hair and pulled it hard enough to make her moan softly. He picked her up and groaned as her muscled thighs wrapped around his waist. He walked her up the stairs of his house and kicked his door shut after they entered the room. He pulled away from her before tossing her gently on the bed.

She watched as he ripped his shirt off and climbed on top of her. "Ruhn," he growled at the sound of his name on her lips, "I've never done anything like this before."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Something about your brother literally being the angel of death kind of scares most people off.." Her face was glowing red with embarrassment.

"He doesn't scare me, kitten. Let me take care of you."

A faint silver thread had become to turn golden as he dove back in to kiss her.

He opened his eyes again and she was gone. He smiled the best he could at the memory of her moans and cries as he pulled her apart piece by piece, igniting his soul, his heart, his mind on fire. But what was that thread? The thread he had noticed twice now.

They came back a few hours later, pulling him by his arms back to the room they had been beating him in for 3 days now. He stared at Lydia. His love for her was gone. It had left him like dust floating off into the wind, unseen and as quickly as it came. The thread connecting them, the one who made him believe they were mates was gone.

She leaned down to look at him and her eyes widened when she realized he held no more love for her. He watched her reach up to touch the ear piece she was wearing before pressing on it lightly to communicate, "The witch broke the spell. We need to move them before she tracks us-" a loud explosion broke through the air. Sparks of black and red magic, her magic, flooding the empty space. Ruhn felt himself slumping over as his vision filled with black spots and lightheadedness set it.

"Did I do something?" Her voice was breaking as he held her at arms length.

"No, just. This just isn't working." His voice was soft as his own heart was breaking.

"There's someone else." He froze as she silently told him what he feared. That she knew. "You promised to never lie to me." She moved away from him. She opened the door to her home and motioned for him to leave. "I'll light a candle for you tonight, Ruhn. I hope your soul finds the peace it needs.."

"Y/n."

"Please go."

Ruhn watched the golden thread appear and flicker, it connected them briefly before smoke and darkness covered it hiding it from his view.

Ruhn came to on a familiar couch, Hunt was laid on the opposite conch with Bryce holding his hand. Ruhn watched him waiting for any sign of life in the other male and released a silent breath as he saw his chest move.

"She's not breathing-" Ithan's voice was distant and panicked as Ruhn fully came to. Ithan and Declan had a figure laid out on the table in the kitchen.

"No fucking shit? I couldn't tell. Bryce! We need help!" He watched in slow motion as Bryce and her red hair ran into the kitchen, three winged males Ruhn didn't know watched the whole scene. One of them turned and looked at him and it was like staring into a mirror. Or at his mom. This male REALLY looked like his mom. They stared at each other as he felt a clawed hand reach into his mind. He immediately grabbed onto it in his mind while glaring at the male.

"Rhys! Help!" The male broke eye contact with him before walking over to the table Bryce was at. Ithan moved over to Ruhn and sat down next to him.

"How ya doing, Rue?" At the sound of the nick name, the name only she called him, he was instantly pulled into another memory.

"Please, Rue," she begged softly below him, "Please don't stop." Ruhn groaned as he wrapped his hand around her throat. He had broken up with Feyra a month ago in favor of Agent Day but constantly found his soul begging for the dark-haired female. The warmth of her cunt welcoming him with each thrust. Her breathy moan and pants were growing louder as her walls began to flutter around him. He reached his arm around her back as she arched off the bed, nails digging into his back.

"You feel so fucking good baby." He kissed the point on her neck that always drove her wild before licking the column. "Need you to cum baby. I need it. Can you let go for me?" She whimpered in response, nodding eagerly. He released his hold on her before pulling her hips to follow him as he sat straight up, he then moved to put one of her legs over his shoulder. Her cock drunk eyes met his, begging for release, begging to be made his fully. "Such a good girl." He whispered before beginning a punishing pace on her already over stimulated body.

Her cries became loud and consistent as the heavy drag of his cock filled her, slamming into her over and over. Ruhn's name began to fall from her swollen lips like a prayer, like he was her God. A faint golden glow started happening between them. It sparkled, breaking through the mist and darkness trying to hide it. "I'm right fucking there pretty girl," he leaned into her pressing his forehead against hers, "come with me. Walk over the ledge with me." She came for him the second he pressed a heated kiss to her lips. He groaned following her over as he leaned his forehead back against hers watching her eyes.

The golden glow had filled the room. It connected them at the heart. It pulsed with excitement and joy.

Ruhn snapped back to reality to yelling voices. Hunt was up at the table now as well. "What the fuck happened?"

"She was using so much magic and she had several of the guards and Lydia showed up . Lydia cast something on her and now it's like her mind is just gone," Bryce's voice fell.

"Y/n, sis come on." Ruhn heard Hunt gently zap his sister, "Are we sure she's there anymore? How long has it been since she responded last?"

"She's there. I can feel her running through something. I can't tell what yet though" a smooth deep voice responded. Ruhn went to move only to get held back by the two winged males. He began to fight against them, scared of who was lying on that table as everything came back to him. "Azriel, Cassian, keep Ruhn away from here." The two nodded as he began to fight against them. Long dark Brunette hair fell over the side of the table as Hunt electrocuted the body.

"Should I colour it?" He watched her in the full-length mirror. "It's just boring." He scoffed before moving to stand behind her and trapping her facing the mirror.

"There is not a single inch of you that's boring. I happen to fucking love your dark hair." He leaned into her kissing her temple, "especially when it's tangled in my fist as I'm fucking you from behind."

"Ruhn!"

He heard the door open, pulling him from the memory, and went into shock as his mom entered the room. "Ruhn!" She froze at the sight of the two males holding him back before covering her mouth with her hand.

"Momma," he sobbed before turning back to the table. Her eyes followed his and she ran over to the table. Her and the unknown male stared at each other as she began to heal the female laying down. Her arm hand had fallen over the ledge and twitched as a deep broken breath filled the air.

"Y/n! Honey, look at me, you need to keep your eyes open, okay? I need you to stay awake, sis. Let me see those eyes, baby," Hunt began pleading. The two winged males had let go of him, the one with scarred hands backing away slowly while looking at his mom. "No. No. No. No. Do not close your fucking eyes. You have to fight, y/n. Think of fucking Ruhn. Of Bryce. Of me. Fight, sis. Fight."

"We're losing her, Rhys." He heard the male chuckle at his mom's soft voice.

"It's funny how you think this is going to get you out of a LONG conversation, Velaris." Who the fuck was Velaris? Why was this Rhys dude calling his mom Velaris.

"I don't think I owe you an explanation. We did what we had to do to keep mom and I alive. That's the end of the story. Heal my son's mate. Or, take your hounds and leave."

Mate. Mate. Mate. The word began to pound into Ruhn's mind as Ithan sat him back down. "Breathe man, you gotta breathe."

He swayed you in your kitchen as the two of them danced to a song that fell far from the normal music Ruhn listened to.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair and froze. He had just dumped her. Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he leave her alone?

"Y/n, fight!" Hunt was screaming at his sister.

She pulled away from him and looked up at him with a tight knit brow. "Then why did you dump me?" Ruhn froze at the question. He looked away from the scene, playing in front of him long enough to see a blooded version of the female he had just confessed his love to.

"NO. NO. NO. YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU ARE STRONGER THAN HER! FIGHT!" Bryce's cries echoed as she yelled at her best friend. They ripped him from the memory as his head snapped back to the table.

"She's trapped in a void, we can't pull her out. I can't even fully tell if it's a memory void or just darkness with glimpses. Something painful is holding her there." The deep smooth voice caused Ruhn to pause. She's trapped in a void.

"Ruhn, help." Her voice came into his mind. His eyes immediately went over to her, then the radio. "Help me."

He ran over to the radio and speaker system, ripping his phone off the table as he went. The song. He had to find the song. Their song.

"Ithan, you two like the same music. Name that tune. It's a love song, it's soft, it's a male singer. It almost sounds like a hymn in nature?"

"Do you know any of the words?" Frustration hit Ruhn. He had just heard it in his mind. In the memory. Why couldn't he think of a line?

"Something about crawling out of a grave to get back to lover?" The male with scarred hands snorted and laughed darkly from the opposite couch while staring at Ruhn's mother whose face instantly fell in guilt.

"Oh I know what song you're talking about. Like one of the lines is like My baby never fret none bout what my hands and my body done? It's a really good song!" Ruhn's eyes narrowed at Ithan as the young male racked his brain.

"Do you know what it's called?" Hunt yelled from the kitchen as he electrocuted you again, "if I have to fucking shock her system one more she's not going to make it. I swear if you fucking die I will bring you back to kill you myself."

Ithan began humming the song to himself while staring at the bloodied body of the female who had begun helping him heal. "WORK SONG! IT'S CALLED WORK SONG!" Ruhn instantly typed the name into his phone and clicked the first result. Deep humming and clapping filled the air. Her hand twitched again. Ruhn moved to be by her, to hold her hand. Her nose was bleeding, the corners of her mouth were bleeding. She was covered in deep bruising. The tips of her fingers and her nails were still an inky black from letting her raw magic loose. Ruhn took the seat closest to her head and grabbed her hand that had fallen. He slipped back into the memory he knew she was trapped in.

"I don't know why I did. I just. I need to see what happens between Agent Day and I." Ruhn had pulled away from Feyra. She leaned against the kitchen counter while he stood on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed against his chest. He watched himself play with his lip ring as she nodded.

"You mean the female you've never met who SOMEHOW got past your iron clad mental shields?" Ruhn flinched. "The one who showed up after you had been drinking at a party with people you hadn't met before? After Danika suddenly wasn't around to keep an eye on Bryce anymore?"

"You know, you're a fucking ugly person when you aren't getting what you want. You turn into a real spoiled cunt." Ruhn froze as the words left his mouth. He didn't mean them. He'd never mean that. He felt a deep pain radiate in his chest at her free falling tears.

"Get out." The blooded you watched the scene with the same look you had on your face as it was happening. A look of absolute devastation. Ruhn watched himself, His past self's eyes widened as he moved to try to touch you.

"I didn't mean that. I swear I did not mean that. I do not know where that came from."

"Get. Out."

He walked behind his younger self and whispered in his ear, "Stay." He took over the mind of the version of him in the memory.

"No. I'm not leaving." He moved to grab her by her arms and backed her against the counter again. "I didn't mean it, y/n. I have no clue where that came from. I love you. You just heard me say I love you. I did not mean that." The you in the memory was replaced with the bloodied one he knew was dying on the table in reality. "I won't let this be the memory of us you die thinking about. I don't want the last time we saw each other to be the memory of me that wins over everything else."

She didn't respond as tears began to flow. He cupped her face and stroked her cheek. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I want to worship you," he whispered. "I want to worship your body, your mind, your soul. I want you. I never truly wanted her. It was you. It was always you. It always will be you." He tugged the glittering golden thread. "You're my mate. My first true love. The first girl I brought home to my mom. I love you."

A shattering noise caused the walls of her house to fall apart breaking into little edged pieces around the two high fae. Water took the place of her wooden floors, and the open sky replaced the ceiling.

"Thank you."

A loud sobbing breath broke through the air as y/n shot up clutching her chest in pain. Bryce and Hunt immediately held her while the male Ruhn had just met and his mother picked him up to move him. He was breathing heavily and exhausted from tapping into his magic so soon.

Her inconsistent breathing was slowing down as her lungs began to sing with joy at the increase of oxygen. Tears streamed down her blooded face as Bryce pulled her into her chest. The last few rhythmic claps of the song played in the background.

"Do you need water, sis?" Hunt's voice was soft and gentle. Bryce had already grabbed a water bottle and Hunt began to hold it to her lips.

"Ruhn-"

"Is fine. His wounds were all easy to heal. Drink the water." Ruhn watched as Hunt pulled his little sister into his arms. His cheek rested on the top of her head. "You almost died." She nodded. Her eyes shutting softly.

"The bitch shot me. She fucking shot me."

"I know."

"Ruhn."

"My love."

"I want to stay with you." Ruhn forced himself out of his mom's arms. Hunt moved to allow Ruhn to pull you to his chest. Ruhn slipped his arm under her knees before lifting her. He left the room wordlessly and went up the stairs.

He entered his room and shut the door behind the two of them before sitting on the bed with her in his lap.

"I'm never leaving you again. Do you hear me?" He kissed her temple sealing the promise.

"So tired." Her voice was soft.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you." His heart squeezed at how softly she said it. He felt a deep tug in his chest. The mating bond. She tugged the mating bond.

"I love you too." He laid her down before beginning to softly sing in her ear. "When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her."

#ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn crescent city #Spotify

[ghouljams]

Hell FUCKIN yeah your Fae!Ghost is so good, so glad my bullshit is fanning the fire. Poor MC is trapped in his orbit, bound by magic as old as time, and she might as well get used to him cause he’s never letting her go. Imagine she starts to change for him as a way to cope and he’s like tf what are you doing the game and effort of breaking you down is half the fun stop that you little degenerate. 😩😂

That is the thing Ghost didn't account for, that you might not need to be tapped, or that you might enjoy being tapped. The more time he spends with you, really with you, the more he realizes you're just made for him. Made for all the worst parts of him. He absolutely loves it.

Loves tracing his fingers over his name, carved with shadow into your skin where only he can see, pressing kisses to your spine as you lay in bed, strumming every tether he has to you with a pleased hum. All those lovely gold fairy hooks he has in your soul, you'll never be able to fulfill all of them so you'll never be rid of him. He isn't sure how or when you figure it out, but the first time you come home after a bad day and ask him to tap you he nearly has a heart attack.

"Do the thing," You tell him, collapsing on the couch next to him. His arm wraps around your shoulders immediately, his eyes never leaving the footie match.

"What thing?" He asks, his fingers threading through your hair, scratching at the base of your skull. He always knows just how to touch you, and all your favorite things exactly the way you like them.

"Make me stop thinking." You sigh, leaning against his side. You can feel him lock up, even though he chuckles.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" He asks, barely flinching when you turn and tap his forehead. You don't know how you know to do that, but something deep in your hindbrain purrs at the way he looks at you when you do.

Hours later you come to with his big body wedging your legs apart and up toward your chest, your arms trapped at your sides so tight you can't even think of escape, and his thick cock pounding into you so hard you can't catch your breath. All you can do is gasp like you've finally gotten your head above water and whine when you feel his cum drip out of your poor abused cunt with every thrust.

"Welcome back love," Simon tells you, shushing you when you sob, oversensitive from who knows how many orgasms, "don't worry, I know just what you like."

#call of duty modern warfare #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x y/n #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #mw2 fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #cod smut #mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #fae!ghost #i knkw this is long but im not apologizing for it

[via-l0ve]

hello! can you please do a johnny x fem!reader smut? thank you!

Gift - Johnny Cade Smut

A/N: omg my first request! thank you so so so so much! i’m happy to write this for ya! i hope it’s up to par, it’s my first time writing a request so i hope you enjoy!! <3 (also i suck at titles, my apologies haha)

warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), praise, nicknames, female reader, use of Y/N. might be a little OOC for johnny but i tried! not proofread

It was the end of y/n’s birthday. the day had been filled with celebratory gifts and hugs from the gang. Darry had made her a big cake and made sure that all of the boys made her handmade cards. She spend most of the day with her boyfriend, Johnny, and the gang. Johnny had woken her up that morning to a small gift box wrapped in gold wrappings. y/n opened it and it was a small, dainty necklace with a small ‘J’ pendant.

“i jus’ thought that it would be cool for ya to have a part of me with ya all the time. Shows everyone how tuff i am, huh?” he laughed slightly and pulled you into a kiss.

eventually, after the party festivities, y/n and Johnny went back to y/n’s house. Her parents (who she believed didn’t give a rats ass about her) were gone for her birthday weekend, but she was determined to not let that get to her. she was here with Johnny, the love of her life. how could things get better?

“hey.. y/n?” Johnny broke the comfortable silence between you both. You looked up from your position on the couch, swallowing the chocolate covered strawberry you had been eating.

“what’s up, Johnnycakes?” you asked, smiling at your boyfriend. his raven hair was messy across his forehead but he managed to look as cute as ever.

“I want to make this birthday a good one for ya.” he said, walking over to you.

“awh, baby, you’ve made it amazing already!” you said, smiling at him.

he chuckled quietly, looking down at you as he stood over your frame.

“well.. i got another surprise for ya, Doll.” he smiled.

Without another word, Johnny picked you up, pressing your body against the wall and capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“let me show you how much i love you, doll. let me take care of you.” he whispered against your lips, his hands running up and down your sides in slow, soothing motions.

“yes please.” you whisper, threading your hands through his hair.

He took you over to the bed, closing the door behind you both and setting you down so you were sitting on the edge. He took off his shirt slowly, letting it fall to the floor with a smile. his hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His free hand moved down your throat, over your collarbone and down your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before continuing its journey down your body. He pulled away to breathe momentarily, pressing his forehead against yours.

“you’re so beautiful, baby. so gorgeous.” he whispered, letting his hands roam down to your thighs. they were bare due to the shorts you were wearing, the Tusla heat could be a bitch some days.

he gently squeezed your thigh, his other hand still holding the back of your neck as he moved to sit on his knees in front of you.

“such a pretty girl.” he smiled, running his hand down your chest and resting them both on your waist.

you blushed, tangling a hand in his hair.

“you want me to take this off for you, baby?” he teased, pulling on the hem of your shirt gently.

“Yes please, Johnny.” you smiled down at him, still playing with his hair.

“say it again, sweets?” he teased again, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh. “didn’t hear you too good.” he smiled.

“johnny.. please.” you repeated, pouting a little bit.

he tsked softly, smiling at you and pressing another kiss to your thigh.

“how can i say no to you, doll.” he smiled, reaching up and taking your shirt off, pressing his lips to yours again in a more heated kiss than before, running his hands over your bra and squeezing your tits gently, causing a soft, breathy-moan to fall from your lips. his mouth disconnected from yours, trailing down your neck. his tongue ran over your skin, sucking gently and leaving a hickey in its place.

Johnnys hands moved down to your shorts, undoing the button on them and unzipping them.

“can I take these off, doll?” he asked, his lips hovering on the skin of your chest. You nodded, but he just shook his head.

“words, darling.” he smiled.

“yes, Johnny. take ‘em off.” you whispered, watching him and biting your lip.

“yes ma’am.” he smiled, watching as you lifted your hips and he pulled your shorts off, admiring your near naked body.

“beautiful.” he smiled, letting his hands spread your legs apart a little bit, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. he squeezed the skin there gently, pressing kisses closer to your cunt that was getting wetter by the minute.

“d’ya want me to touch you?” he asked, moving so that he was kneeling inbetween your legs.

“yes.. please touch me.” you whisper, moving your legs so they rested atop his shoulders. he smiled, moving your panties down your legs and staring at your bare pussy.

“so pretty, baby.” he smiled, moving his hand so he separated your folds with his pointer and middle finger, admiring just how wet you had gotten for him.

“mmh.. baby. so wet for me, huh?” he teased, blowing air on your clit, making you inhale sharply.

“johnny i-please..” you whimpered. He knew exactly what you wanted and smiled.

He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, flicking slightly and sucking, moving his mouth so he could lick a stripe up your pussy. a moan ripped from your mouth, accidentally squeezing your thighs around his head.

“taste s’good for me, doll.” he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations traveling through your clit and adding a whole new layer of pleasure. his mouth kept working against your hole, pushing his tongue inside and rubbing his nose against your clit as moans ripped from your throat. he sucked and licked, wanting you to feel as good as he could make you.

“y’feel good, baby?” he asked, parting with your pussy for a moment before diving back in.

“feels so fucking good.” you moaned out, his hands tightening on your thighs. he slipped a finger inside of you, pumping and curling it so he hit your g-spot as he licked and sucked on your clit. loud moans fell from your mouth and your hand tightened in his hair.

“f-faster baby.. please.” you moaned, your back arching slightly as a couple of whimpers fell from your lips.

Johnny did what you asked, moving his tongue faster on your clit and pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside of you and rubbing against your g-spot.

“cum for me, baby.” he whispered, adding more pressure onto your clit and moving his fingers faster. You were finally pushed to your climax and your pussy clenched and throbbed against his fingers as multiple loud moans left your lips, your back arching and your eyes squeezing shut.

“oh.. baby. you should see yourself. so gorgeous..” he whispered, detaching from your pussy and leaving a couple hickeys on your thighs.

you eventually came down from your high, little moans still leaving your mouth as your eyes met with his again. you could see your slick and cum covering his chin, mouth and nose and a bright blush covered your face. he just chuckled quietly.

“can i fuck you, princess?” he smiled an almost innocent smile as he looked up at you. you nodded quickly, moving back on the bed so that he could get on top of you. He smiled big, moving on top of you.

“take it off, doll.” he said, moving your hands to his belt. You grabbed it, undoing the belt buckle and unzipping his pants, pulling them down and shamelessly staring at the outline of his thick, hard cock through his boxers.

“No matter how many times i see you like this you always shock me with how fucking big you are.” i giggled softly, running a finger over the small wet patch of pre-cum on his boxers.

“lay back, doll.” he groaned softly at your touch, pulling off his boxers and smiling down at you.

He took his dick into his hand, pumping it a couple times and carefully rubbing it over your hole, dragging the tip over your sensitive clit, dragging a soft moan from your mouth. he repositioned himself to be able to push into you.

“you ready, baby? you ready for me?” he whispered, pushing his tip right at my entrance.

“yes please Johnny.. please fuck me.” you moaned quietly, feeling him push inside of you more.

He continues filling you up, his cock stretching your pussy from the mere girth and size. You lowly moaned his name, dragging it out. he whispered some sweet nothings into your ear, pressing kisses to your neck before starting to thrust in and out slowly.

“feel good baby? you like the feel of my cock? huh?” he asked, soft moans and breaths leaving his mouth as he sped up his thrusts, rubbing your clit with his thumb and pushing gently on your lower stomach. All you could do was nod, moans falling from your mouth as he sped up even more.

“mmh~ oh, Johnny.” you moaned, back arching slightly. you could already feel your release coming, his thick cock pushing and hitting exactly where it needed. He hit your g-spot, making a gasp slip from your mouth in a moan. he just smiled, going even faster, hitting the same spot over and over. words of praise left his lips and he moaned into your ear, soft grunts and groans left his mouth as he sped up more.

“oh y/n.. so fuckin’ tight for me.. so wet.” he moaned quietly, continuing to thrust into your pussy.

“i-i’m gonna cum soon baby. where do ya want me?” he asked through moans, speeding up his thrusts and the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

“i-inside.. i-i’m on something.” you moaned, his finger still rubbing your clit.

He sped up even more, adding more pressure to your clit. You could feel the knot in your stomach unwind and a loud moan left your lips, finally reaching your climax.

a loud moan spilled from Johnny’s lips, ropes of cum filling you up to the brim. he pulled out after a moment, shamelessly watching his cum drip from your abused hole.

“what a pretty girl.” he whispered, leaning up to you and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“so good for me baby.” he said, rubbing his fingers over your cheek.

“i love you.” you whispered to him.

“i love you so much, princess,” he smiled at you.

“what do you say we get in a bath? clean up?” he smiled at you, scooping you up in his arms and leading you to your shared bathroom.

#johnny cade x reader #johnny cade smut #the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #johnny cade #thank you sm for this request #love u mwah

[breakfastteatime]

Cal wakes up from a nap. Oops, fell asleep on the couch again. He's so dozy, so comfy, maybe he'll drift off again and...

Wait.

Something feels different about his head. He stirs, brushing the blanket pulled up to his chin.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep." It's Merrin. She must be sitting next to his head. "I am not finished yet."

Her fingers are in his hair, brushing through and separating small handfuls into trios. The feeling is familiar, a distant memory from so long ago. He feels himself relaxing. "Why're you braiding my hair?" he asks, although it sounds more like "whyybraidnmuhheyh?"

Somehow, Merrin interprets his mushy words. "It is shiny. And pretty."

"S'not."

"Oh, yes, it is." There's a gentle tug as she deftly braids. "Fiery. Like my magicks."

"S'green."

"Hush, Cal. Let me finish."

Cal zones out, drifting into memories of Master Tapal patiently plaiting his braid, tying it off with the finest of thread. It never seemed possible for someone with such huge hands, and yet Master Tapal managed it every time. Sometimes he would tug on it to get Cal's attention. Other times, if he couldn't grab the hood of Cal's robes fast enough, he'd grab Cal's braid instead, and that never failed to bring Cal to a sudden and complete halt - usually before he wandered into traffic in the Brave's landing bay. He smiles at the memories, at the warmth, the tradition, the simplicity.

Merrin probably isn't going in for simplicity. Maybe he'll look like Cere did in that echo he picked up from Trilla's lightsaber. She looked so awesome with her hair like that. Could he grow his hair out that long? His pictures it - autumn reds, oranges and golds trailing all the way down his back, tied in intricate braids...

...who is he kidding? He'd sling it back in a ponytail and be done with it.

He giggles to himself.

"You are strange, Cal," Merrin tells him.

She has no idea.

A few minutes later, Merrin's fingers pull away. "Done. You may wake up. BD? You can come and look now."

Familiar feet tippy-tappy their way over. BD gives a long, slow beep of awe, and then the light of his scanner shines through Cal's eyelids.

Pretty, BD declares.

"I am not pretty," Cal grumbles.

"You are. You are a pretty princess," Merrin says. "BD, quick, make a recording."

"Excuse you, I'm no princess, I am a queen," Cal corrects.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty," Merrin says.

Curiosity wins and he opens his eyes, sits, frees his hands from the blanket, and explores his head. What he finds is a series of small, tight braids encircling his head - much like a crown. He leans forward and catches a glimpse of his reflection on the table. "Huh."

"You like it?" Merrin asks. "Cere explained to me how to do it, but it is easier to practice on somebody else."

"I do like it," Cal says. "It's really practical. Keeps it out of my eyes, too."

The hatch opens. Cere and Greez board the ship, both carrying several grocery bags. Cere clocks Cal first, nodding in approval. Greez does a double-take, puts down his bags, and moves in for a closer inspection.

"Well?" Cal asks, moving his head to really show it off.

"I love it!" Greez gushes. "I mean I really love it. I want it. I want that style right now."

"When you have more hair, I will teach you how," Merrin says.

He grins. "It's a deal. You heard it here, folks, Greezy is officially growing his hair out."

#star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo headcanon #cal kestis #merrin #bd 1 #greez dritus #cere junda #queen kestis of the stinger mantis #jfo minific

[sunlightmurdock]

‘Friendship’ Bracelets — Rooster x Bambi (18+)

Synopsis: Rooster gets half of a friendship bracelet

Warnings: unabashed size kink, unprotected sex, pinv, creampies

…

You sigh softly, lifting your head from his chest and propping your chin up on your palm. Rooster’s brows knit together, his muscles tensing under you as there’s another near miss for his team. He relaxes again and brings his beer bottle to his lips, taking a long drink and then setting it back down on the floor beside the couch.

“You okay, baby?” Rooster hums without managing to tear his gaze away from the screen, smoothing his palm along your back. You turn your gaze to the rain pouring on the window, and then to the football game on the television.

“Mm.” You shrug, pushing yourself up from where you’re laying on his chest, stretching your arms up above your head. “Bored.”

“I can fuck you at half-time, if you want.” He jokes, tucking an arm behind his head and shifting to find comfort again now that you aren’t acting as his weighted blanket.

Your lips quirk, rolling your eyes playfully as you turn away from him in search of something to occupy your Sunday stuck inside. He won’t play a board game with you, and you don’t want him to break one of your puzzles trying to mash the pieces together with his big fingers. Reading sounds like too much effort. You sigh softly and pull open your closet.

There’s usually something entertaining that you have forgotten that you own in here. Bradley gasps and grumbles something discontentedly from the living room as you rifle through the closet.

He looks up as you wander back in, grinning at him and holding a little plastic box.

“What’s that?”

“My friendship bracelet kit, I’m gonna make us matching ones.” You explain, setting the box down on the coffee table and sitting down on the floor with your back to the couch. Rooster hums to show his interest, stroking your hair back away from his neck.

“That’s nice.”

“What colours should we have?” You ask him as his thumb strokes absent-mindedly along the exposed curve of your neck, stopping at the collar of your sweatshirt.

“Purple and gold.” He replies, nodding towards the television. Immediately, you scrunch your face up in distaste. With your back to him, he doesn’t see that. You peer down into the box and hide the purple thread under the green.

“I don’t have purple.” It’s an innocent, little white lie that means you don’t have to walk around with an ugly Minnesota Vikings bracelet on. Rooster doesn’t even notice.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He decides, taking another sip from his beer bottle. His lips quirk softly as he rests the chilled glass against the exposed back of your neck and watches you squirm away from it. You smack his leg and scowl at him, he winks at you and settles back some to watch the game again.

Making your own bracelet is easy work, you’ve been doing it since you were six. You pick out pink, blue and yellow threads, twisting them intricately around each other until you’ve got a thread long enough to fit around your wrist.

“Will you tie it for me?” You turn to Bradley, pushing yourself onto your knees. His eyes never once leave the screen as he reaches for the two ends of the bracelet. “Not too tight, but don’t let it fall off either.”

“Mhm.” He frowns at the game and glances quickly downwards to make sure he’s doing it right, securing it in a knot and dropping your wrist. “Looks pretty, Bambi.”

You turn back around and start working on his bracelet immediately, braiding the threads together until they should be long enough. You grab his arm from where it’s resting against his middle, wrapping the bracelet around as much of his wrist as it’ll cover.

Frowning, you drop his arm and turn back around to fix the length of it. His arm’s just bigger than you had anticipated. Adding an extra little bit, you turn again and pick up his wrist. He lets you without complaint, too focused on the end of the first half.

The thread almost fits, you could maybe make it fit if he was willing to compromise on his blood circulation. Frowning again, you drop his arm and watch it flop back down against the couch.

He doesn’t react, brows raised in anticipation as the quarterback heads towards the end zone. You reach out delicately and take his arm again, this time shifting around and extending your forearm beside his.

“Almost finished?” He asks.

“Mm, almost,” You answer quietly, placing your open palm in his, stretching your fingers out to see how far they are from the tips of his.

Glancing back up at his face, he sips on his beer, oblivious. You trail your index finger along the veins in his forearm, up onto the firm skin of his bicep.

He’s always wandering around here shirtless, even on days like today when it’s miserable and drizzly outside, he’s still warm under your touch. You’re wearing a sweater and a big t-shirt, fuzzy socks and grey sweats, and he’s still warmer than you are.

You exhale quickly and turn back around to your little workstation, picking up more thread. You wonder what size gloves he wears in the ring. Then, you try to shake that thought from your head all together and focus on the wholesome activity you had chosen for the afternoon.

Rooster’s hand is on the back of your neck again. Just an absent-minded need to be touching you, his thumb stroking along the top of your spine delicately. You’ve never noticed how softly he touches you before now, wondering to yourself if he has to hold back — if he knows how strong he is.

“Damn it!” He yells from behind you, fingers squeezing softly around the curve of your neck. You tense, glancing up towards the screen, then slowly turning to peer back at him over your shoulder. He softens and squeezes at your neck again, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to make you—“

He stops, brows furrowing as you drop the bracelet to the ground and push yourself up from the floor, swinging a knee over his hips swiftly. You brace your palms against his broad shoulders, kissing him hard before you’ve even settled in his lap.

Instinctively, his hands find your hips and he pulls you down hard against his groin. You pull back just to tug your sweatshirt over your head, groaning in frustration as your arm gets stuck in the struggle and then your necklace catches on the collar of the sweatshirt.

“Slow down, I’ve got you.” Rooster chuckles softly as he sits up and untangles you from the nice little straight jacket you had just made for yourself. You drop the sweater and the t-shirt to the ground at once, sitting in his lap in just your bra and your sweats. “Is there like a go button on you somewhere? — where the hell did that come from?”

You place both palms, flat and open, on his bare chest and push against his muscles, feeling them flex against your hands as he doesn’t let you push him back. “Just want you.”

Rooster’s lips quirk softly as he relents and allows you to push him down against the couch, his head resting against the arm. “Sure, but that doesn’t answer my question. Kinda leapt on me out of nowhere, baby.”

You shrug your shoulders and squirm around him as you quick your sweats and socks off, his body heat does more for you than they did anyway.

Taking his hands in yours, you open them up and place them on your skin. He curls his hands around your ribcage and flexes his palms softly, keeping you in place.

“Fuck.” You exhale softly. His brows knit together a little, cocking his head. Trying to figure out what’s got you so flustered all of a sudden. You smooth your fingertips over his collarbones, the swell of his broad shoulders, over his thick arms.

His hands trail innocently, coming down to rest against your thighs on either side of his hips. Palms open, he squeezes softly at your legs, still confused but not complaining as you grind yourself against the growing tent in his shorts.

“I can’t wait, I just really need you.” You rush out, all in one big breath, pressing your palms harder against his chest. Rooster’s lips tug at a smile as he nods slowly at you.

“Alright, it’s alright,” He sits up and presses his chest into yours swiftly, hooking an arm around your middle and lifting you so that he can push his shorts down. You hum as his thick fingers nudge your underwear to the side and swipe between your legs gently. “Fuck, baby, you’re soaked.”

Grabbing a handful of the short hair at the back of his head, you kiss eagerly at his neck as he works his fingers into you. You could whine and argue as much as you want, he isn’t going to give you anything more until he’s satisfied that you’ll be able to take him.

His fingers curl upwards, massaging that spongy spot inside of you that makes you dig your nails into his shoulders. Mewling into his neck, fucking yourself down onto his thick fingers. The game long forgotten, Rooster shoves his boxers down and withdraws his fingers, grabbing your hips instead.

You slowly sink down on him, taking in his tip. A soft squeak slips your lips. He squeezes softly at your thighs again. His eyes shut, preventing himself from grabbing your hips and forcing you down to take him in all at once.

He breathes out hard and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. You whimper softly against him. You breathe out softly through your nose, pushing your chest against his as you sink the rest of the way onto his length. Rooster grabs your hips with both hands and pulls you tight against him, driving himself as deep as he possibly can.

You lift yourself just slightly, rocking back down once again, finding a soft rhythm. Sinking up and down on his length. More full than you’ve ever felt. Head lulled back. His hands, big and strong, squeeze your middle and guide you on him.

You pick up speed, your bodies sloppily colliding as he kisses the salt from your skin, peppering his mouth over every inch of skin that he can reach.

Rooster moans, desperate and panting into your chest, fingers bruising your skin. You arch your back, grabbing onto his thigh for support as you fuck yourself on him. He squeezes softly at your hips, sliding his hands down to your ass instead.

“Bra — ungh — Bradley — I’m gonna — I’m-“ You can’t manage real words right now, interrupted by his mouth on yours anyway. He grabs a handful of your hair and tugs as his other arm tucks around your waist and keeps you steady as he pounds into you.

You cum, careening against him, his arms keeping you steady. Panting hard, you’re locked in his embrace as he drives into you, relentless. Overstimulation creeping in, your thighs tremble around his as he spills into you.

Mind hazed, you hum as you fall forwards against his chest, a soft smile on your lips. He groans, resting his head back against the arm, closing his eyes.

“So you get off on doing arts and crafts now or something?” Bradley asks, squeezing you in his arms. Your cheeks burn at the notion as you shake your head and settle down against his chest.

“Or something.”

…

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #blow by blow #drabbles #rooster x bambi