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#rodeo!lock
dulcimergecko · 19 days
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Sunday Six!(ish)
So personal update: my dad (finally!) got his lung transplant and I'm taking shifts like the rest of the immediate family. Sitting around on hospital floors is terrible for my hips (believe me, trying to sit in the chairs they provide is worse!) but it does give me hours of quiet time for writing!
~*~
Later, back in his cabin, Sherlock gave into the urge to pace.  “It makes no sense!” he growled to the room’s other occupant, only to receive a sleepy doggy yawn in reply.  “There is a pattern here; there must be, but what is it?”
Spinning around Sherlock let his gaze fall on the mostly-unadorned walls.  The cabin was made up of split logs–hardly the best surface to adhere items to, but beggars, choosers and all that.  Sherlock sighed again.  There was nothing else for it.  He’d hoped to keep his evidence wall locked in his mind palace in the interest of preserving his cover–his cabin was cleaned weekly, after all–but the concussion was making it impossible for him to do so...
–Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 29 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze’  
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silvcrignis · 9 months
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The Rodeo Outfit Is A Party Foul || Keira Black’s like 6th Skank Outfit
“Yeehaw, y’alls go on & gits ta runnin’, fleshbags!”
Just preTend there’s a loop on the shorts to attach the whip pls
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mes0p0tamia · 1 year
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 I know that Gideon has a British accent or smth, but I always imagine her with a southern accent. Not like a full Georgia thing going on, but maybe a Kentucky twang.  All this has done is destroy my tiny little pea brain I don’t know why I did this to myself. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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ann1-wr1tes · 3 months
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Save a Horse, ride a Cowboy
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Synopsis: You make the mistake of placing Leon's cowboy hat on your head and you have no idea what the "Cowboy rule" is...
Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth
Word Count: 2,692
A/N: Cowboy. Leon. Two of my most favorite things.
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Your eyes dart around the entire space around you as your ears are drowned out by cheers and screams for the person who was currently riding a bull. Your friends thought it would be fun to go see a rodeo and so far it had been fun.
You got to see tons of people getting hurled off bulls which was entertaining in itself but you also couldn't help but agree with your friends when they all started to gush over how "hot" some of the cowboys were. Everywhere you looked you saw bandannas, flannels, cowboy hats, and flared jeans. You felt a little bit underdressed wearing your usual jeans and t-shirt but it was still fun getting to see all the hot cowboys and Southern charm.
As your friends ranted about this one man they saw who was about to ride a bull, you found your eyes stuck on someone else. Your eyes were glued to this one cowboy who was busy trying to calm the bull down enough to get the rider on top.
You couldn't see fully from where you were sitting but you could see the man's pretty blonde locks sticking out from underneath his cowboy hot and his crystal blue eyes that narrowed in concentration as he coaxed the bull into temporary peace. You didn't want to admit that you were drooling over him but you knew your friends would tease you if they saw how much you were staring at this guy.
Soon the rider is situated on the bull and a gunshot rings through the air. The gate that leads to the field is kicked open and within a second the bull is running out and thrashing wildly with the rider on top. You can audibly hear all the "ooohs" and "ahhs" as the rider holds on. Your friends are all squealing and cheering themselves as the man almost gets thrown off.
Then with another flail, the rider is thrown off the bull and ends up painfully tumbling onto the ground. As soon as that happens there are people going onto the field to scrape up the rider from the floor as others go to subdue the bull.
You can't help but cheer and holler as well as a smile comes to your face. What a show.
---
After the rodeo was over you wanted to conclude the evening by venturing to a nearby bar. It seemed like a lot of the people from the rodeo came as well as you noticed that once again you were surrounded by Southern accents and cowboy hats.
Your little group made their way to the bar and started to hover around it as the bartender asked everyone what they were getting. As soon as the orders are taken you are about to pay but as soon as you are about to give some cash to the bartender you are interrupted by a thick southern drawl.
"Drinks are on me, darlin'."
Your head turns and you are met with the same face you were admiring earlier. The fluffy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and oh…you could see him much better now and god did the man look heavenly in the candlelight that emitted from the bar.
You could now make out the stunning facial features of the man and you could feel your heart speed up tenfold when your eyes grazed over his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. The way the cowboy hat sat on his head made something buzz inside you.
You are broken out of your thoughts when you hear your friends snicker from behind you. The man even seems to notice your sudden shock as a subtle smirk comes to his face.
"You don't need to do that." you smile nervously as the man's eyes rake over you. You think you might have gotten lost in those eyes. "But thank you anyway."
"No need to thank me, sweetheart. Something as pretty as you should have all the men 'round here buyin' your drinks." He winked at you making your cheeks heat up. Your friends snickered again but you ignore them with a small roll of your eyes.
"The name is Leon by the way, Leon Kennedy." he introduces while holding out his hand. You take it and introduce yourself in return and you're immediately caught off guard when Leon goes to press a kiss against your knuckle.
You were so relieved when you finally got your drinks. You thought you were about to combust just by being around Leon. Leon on the other hand was relishing in your flustered looks and shy behavior, in fact, he thought you were the cutest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.
Though soon your shy, flustered behavior was pushed back by liquid courage. It was sped up by how quickly you were drinking your beers but soon you didn't even notice how you were practically leaning into Leon, muttering things about the rodeo and how hard it seems to ride bulls.
"I mean…I thought the guy was gonna be dead…how he got flung off that thing.." you murmured to yourself with a silly grin as you looked up at Leon.
"Well ridin' is all in the hips sugar~" Leon hummed while leaning back on his elbows. Your stomach fluttered at the suggestive tone and you took another sip of your beer to try and quell your nerves. In an attempt to change the subject, your eyes dart to his hat and a smirk starts to pull at your lips.
"Y'know you look great in that hat…" you compliment as you eye it. Leon chuckles and gives you a smile that has you wondering why it makes your heartbeat pick up.
"Is that so?" he asks. You nod but there's a glint of playfulness in your eyes as you look at the cowboy hat.
"I think it'd look better on me though~" your hands reach out and pluck the hat right off of Leon's head and you place it on yours. You adjust it and tilt it just right on your head like it was on Leon's and then you look at him with a wide grin.
"Well, how does it look?" You ask. Leon seems frozen for a moment as his mind starts to comprehend what you just did. You notice the sudden hesitance for a moment and you almost think that you did something wrong but a smirk soon returns to Leon's face and there's an amused look as he flicks the brim of the hat up.
"It suits you well sugar, but do you know what happens when you put on another cowboy hat?" he asks.
Suddenly you're hit with confusion and it reads all over your face as Leon chuckles. Even the bartender seems to laugh a little and he quickly turns around and starts to clean out glasses when you look at him.
"No…?"
"Well, we have a rule called the Cowboy Rule. If you wear the cowboys hat, then you have to ride the cowboy." Leon explains calmly before taking a swig of his drink. You blink in surprise and you can feel the blush start to creep onto your face. You look down at your drink to hide it.
"Oh," is all you manage to croak out. Your throat suddenly feels incredibly dry. You feel a hand hook under your chin you meet Leon's piercing gaze. His eyes are filled with amusement and it sends shivers down your spine.
"If I do then can I keep the hat?" you cheekily ask. The corners of Leon's mouth tug up and it causes your insides to flip. Your heart begins to beat quicker.
"Wanna find out?" Leon says as he leans forward until his lips are barely inches away from yours. It takes everything in you to not close the space between you two. Instead, you nod your head frantically hoping that he understands your silent request for more.
---
Hungry hands rake across your body as your own hands run down Leons. The feeling of his skin against yours makes every single nerve in your body burn as you slowly unbutton his shirt and he reaches for yours as well. Your bodies collide together like magnets practically, there's such a strange pull that seems to be between you two as your mouths clash together.
Leon's teeth nip at your lower lip and you moan softly as he slides his tongue past your lips and deepens the kiss. In return you rake your hands through his blonde strands, tugging lightly when Leon's hand trails along your sides, going down to rest on your hips.
The cowboy hat still sits on your head as you lean back, breaking the kiss to sit back on your haunches. The sight in front of you was heavenly. Leon was laid back, his legs slightly parted, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and exposing his chest, then of course there was the glassy, lustful look in his blue eyes as his swollen lips were slightly parted.
The entire image made your cunt flutter with need.
You take off the hat for a moment and place it back on Leon's as you yank your shirt up and off your body and then your hands work to unbutton the rest of his buttons on his shirt. As soon you are done, Leon slips his shirt off and yanks you back on top of him by your hips.
In that action, your hips accidentally roll against his causing you both to have a moment of pleasure from the friction.
"Fuck darlin'…need to feel more of you.." Leon huskily utters as his hands tighten around your hips a little more.
With a hum of agreement your rest your hands on his chest and go to straddle his lap a bit better so that your heated core is pressed right up against his erection that is straining through his jeans. Teasingly, you roll your hips again and you both let out a long moan.
"Shit…stop teasin' me," Leon mumbles, his voice rasping and rough as it sends shivers down your spine. You giggle breathlessly, pressing your hips harder against the bulge in his jeans, grinding a little more.
"Why would I stop? I wanna see how many pretty noises I can get out of you cowboy." you coo.
Leon growls in response as he roughly pulls you back towards him, slamming a searing kiss to your mouth. This time he moves his free hand down and it slips down your jeans, finding your clothed clit and he rubs small circles against it. Your hips buck in response and you let out loud moans against Leon's lips.
"That's it baby…let me hear you." He grunts.
It's practically music to your ears as you rock your hips against his fingers as he continues to rub your clit and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Leon suddenly pulls his fingers away and you whine. You're left with nothing but the ache between your legs.
In desperation, your hands fly down to Leon's belt buckle and you start to undo his belt as quickly as you could.
"Easy there honey, I'm not goin' anywhere." Leon chuckles. He replaces your hands with his and soon he's tugging his pants down along with his black boxers to reveal his hardened cock. Its springs to life and slaps against his stomach.
You groan at the sight of it. It's big and thick and you almost want to take him in your mouth until his hands are already working on your own jeans.
He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You kick them the rest of the way off and reposition yourself on top of Leon. Right as you are about to sink down onto Leon's length he interrupts you.
"I think you're forgettin' something.." Leon takes his cowboy hat off and puts it back on top of your head, tilting it just right.
"Beautiful." Leon breathes in a low tone.
"I think it looks better on you." You smile as Leon's hand grazes over your cheek and tucks a stray hair away from your face.
"That's nonsense, it looks stunnin' on you." He smirks and his thumb drags up and down your jawline, gently rubbing your cheek. The butterflies in your stomach flutter even more as he leans in closer to you, your noses brushing against one another.
You rub your slick folds back and forth on Leon's tip and slowly sink down onto his length, letting out moans at the stretch.
"L-Leon… it..so much" You pant between clenched teeth, gripping onto his broad shoulders.
"It's okay sweetheart, let me help.." he coos. The hands on your hips slowly start to help you roll into his, making sure to go slow and his grasp was decently gentle as he helps you build up a good pace.
"It's all in the hips sugar…." Leon whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine.
Soon on your own accord, you start to ride him faster. It catches Leon off guard as waves of hot, blinding pleasure course through his veins. He throws his head back with an audible moan as you bounce up and down on his cock.
"Good girl, keep rollin' your hips like that.." Leon praises, his voice rumbling low in his chest.
You nod and do as you are told, your body starting to twitch against Leon, your hands clenching onto his forearms tighter as he starts thrusting upwards, trying his best to push himself inside of you and meet your steady rhythm.
A whimper escapes your mouth as Leon sits up, connecting his lips to your neck. One of his hands trails up your back and plants itself on the nape of your neck as his lips suck and kiss your sensitive skin.
Your mind is spinning, your heart beats furiously. There are no words that can describe how amazing it all feels. Especially as the euphoria grows and the knot in your belly tightens. Leon, in his own desperation to chase his oncoming high, continues to buck his hips up into yours wildly from below.
His head has fallen back against the pillow as he feels your cunt tighten around him.
"Jesus…you feel so good darlin'." Leon groans in appreciation. You don't say anything, only moaning loudly and moving your hips with more vigor. The sounds from your mouth cause Leon to shudder as he watches you move against him. The sound of his name falling out of your mouth is driving him crazy and you look so damn pretty in his cowboy hat.
After a few more moments of bliss, you finally come undone releasing all of the fluids onto Leon's cock as your eyes roll back into your head and you slump down on top of Leon. Leon helps you along by moving his hand down to toy with your clit as you shudder from the waves of your orgasm.
"Look at you, you pretty little thing. So beautiful.." he grunts.
His hand comes up to the back of your neck as he holds you to his chest while burying his nose in the crook of your neck.
Your breathing is heavy and you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, feeling warm all over your body after your climax. Leon sighs as he starts to rub small circles into your back.
"Damn sweetheart, you may just be the death of me." he coos. A soft smile forms on your lips. Your head rests firmly on his chest, and you peer up at him.
"Does that mean I can keep the hat?" You ask with a sheepish smile.
Leon chuckles and rests a hand on your hat-covered head.
"Yeah, I 'spose so. It suits you."
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klovesyall · 1 month
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Oh my. My brain is full of ideas, but I can't write.
Spencer, but it's his first time showering with his gf? Either she casually invites him to join her, or maybe she's also a member of the BAU and was injured and needs some assistance?
AN: oh absolutely hun. I wasn’t sure if you wanted nsfw or fluff so I went with fluff for a safe option. Also I’m so sorry if this lowkey sucks. This is definitely my first rodeo with writing and I know it’s not perfect but I hope you kinda like it?
OK MORE RECENT AN: im sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I don’t even have an excuse. And I’m so sorry because this is ASS. But I feel bad not giving you anything so here you go
Warnings: Fluff, swearing? , talk of nakedness and stuff idk
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Spencer had been extra protective of you ever since you got hurt. He didn’t want you to lift a single finger, even though you were perfectly capable. He made you food , carried your bags, hell- he even offered to carry you if your crutches got too annoying. All of this to say , he was willing to do anything to make you comfortable.
“Spence, I’m gonna take a shower.” You say with your back turned as you grab some pajamas out of the dresser drawer.
“What?” His voice was filled with concern, as it often was. When you turned around toward him he had the same amount of concern written on his face
“I have to shower Spencer, my hair is so dirty it looks wet.” You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, relying on dry shampoo and braided hair to get you by.
Spencer was thinking for a moment , you could tell by the way his brow furrowed slightly. He finally answers “Let me help you.”
You were slightly taken aback by his response. Spencer wasn’t usually confident enough to initiate or out right suggest anything intimate. And taking a shower together was definitely intimate. Not to say you were opposed to the idea though
“Are You Sure Spence? You do know I shower naked right?” Your tone was some what joking but also kind of not. Regardless you hear the little chuckle you love so much
“Yes I know. I dont want you to fall and get hurt any more than you already are. If you don’t want me to thats fine I just-“
You cut him off
“That would be really helpful, thank you.”
You see Spencer’s worry ease from his face and it’s replaced with a little curve of his lip
You give him a little smile before returning to grabbing your pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Spencer graciously follows you inside, locking the door behind him. When you turn to the counter , Spencer is quick to slip past you, turning on the shower for you.
“Do you take your showers warm or hot.” Spencer asks as if it’s so incredibly normal
“Uh hot I guess? It’s ok I can-“
He stops you when you begin to walk over
“Let me Take Care of you. Please.”
You sigh “you know I can do it myself.”
Spencer takes a step toward you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders
“I know, but I don’t want to risk anything. You do so much for me and you deserve to be helped as well, especially when your injured. So please let me do this for you.” His voice is soft but you can tell how strongly he feels about this
“Ok, I’ll let you handle it.” I say
He smiles “can I take your clothes off?”
I Nod “You don’t have to ask.” You said that a lot, and it didn’t matter how many times you did. Spencer always asked
He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms. He pulls the shirt off your body and folds it before placing it on the counter. He does the same with your pants. Your standing only in your underwear now
“Do you want me to do the rest?” You ask
He shakes his head “turn around for me.”
You turn so your back is facing him and he unclasps your bra, sliding it down your arms until it hits the floor. He hooks a finger under your underwear on either side of you, pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He smiles when he meets your eyes again
“See something you like pretty boy?” You raise an eye brow in a teasing manner.
“Always.” He replies before walking you over to the shower. Holding his hand, you slowly take a step inside until your under the water. Once inside , Spencer takes a step back and sheds his clothes as well before joining you in the shower.
Spencer had ensured that you had a shower bench installed into the bathroom you shared when you moved in together. He said it was for safety reasons but, you still wondered if it might be for other things.
“Sit.” Spencer says, leading you to the bench.
When you sit down he detaches the shower head and wets your hair. When it’s what he considers wet enough, he lathers shampoo into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp.
This man has very capable hands, many uses. And washing your hair just got added to the list of them. You close your eyes from a moment letting out a contended sigh
“Feel good sweetheart?” Spencer asks gently
“Mhm, definitely.” You reply, barely opening your eyes.
Spencer rinses out the shampoo and conditions your hair. He helps you wash off and when you finally stand , you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands lace around your waist
“Thank you Spencer, you’re an angel.” You say pressing little kisses to his jaw. You can see the blush creeping on Spencer’s face.
“You’re welcome, I’m always happy to help you.” He says peering down at you.
The two of you exit the shower. Wrapping towels around your selves and getting dressed- well Spencer refuses to let you dress your self so he helps you. He even blow drys your hair for you because he knows you don’t like going to bed with it wet.
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You lay in bed on your side facing him as he looks back at you. You reach out and brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes.
“You should stay home tomorrow.” Spencer says breaking the silence.
“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of going into work. Plus Hotch would have my head if I didn’t go.” You say and Spencer sighs
“I don’t like the idea of you out on the field” he says once again with concern
“You’ll be with me. I’ll be fine.”
He sits up “I don’t want you to be fine I want you to be healthy.”
You sit up and scoot close to him “Spencer I’m going to work. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay back with Penelope and help her.”
Spencer relaxes a little “yea. Ok that makes me feel better. But don’t go doing anything stupid. That means no trying to entertain Penelope with” Spencer throws up air quotes “crutch tricks”
You groan and lay back down “whatever you say.”
You can hear Spencer’s little laugh as he turns off the lamp.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
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Foster
Meadema x Teen!Reader
Summary: You're taken to a new home
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You meet Beth and Viv two days after the new year begins.
Social services came around for the last time in the evening two days ago. They found you, curled up on the floor of your wardrobe, having locked it from the inside with a chain of interlocking hairbands.
Your father had been passed out on the landing and your mother was high out of her mind in the kitchen.
You got woken up, told to pack and taken away. You spend the night in your new social worker's office and then you're brought to their house.
Beth and Viv greet you at the door. You only know who they are because your social worker gave you the file before she dumped you here.
"Your room's pretty bare," Beth explains," We can go and get decorations if you want later today."
You survey the room. "It's fine."
It's more than fine. Your old room was a dirty old mattress that you're sure your uncle and cousins stole. Your wardrobe was second-hand and falling apart while your desk had different-sized legs and the accompanying chair didn't have a backrest so was functionally a stool.
"Are you sure?" Beth looks around the room. "We can get decorations. It's no problem."
"It's good," You confirm, placing your bin bag down on the bed (a bed with an actual bed frame!).
"Okay," Viv says," We'll let you unpack while we make lunch. Any allergies?"
You shake your head.
"We'll see you soon."
Unpacking is done embarrassingly quickly and you linger a bit longer to not look too pathetic in front of Beth and Viv. It's little more than twiddling your thumbs and staring at the clock on your bedside table.
You didn't have a bedside table at home so that's kind of nice. It's got drawers on it so you would be able to stash food in it if you needed to.
Beth and Viv seem like nice people but you can never be quite too sure. It's not your first rodeo in the foster system. Your parents cleaned up their act last time so there's a chance they'll do the same this time though, judging by the way your father was passed out on the stairs, you wouldn't be surprised if he ended up dead by alcohol poisoning.
You sigh softly as you get off the bed, stretching out your back in preparation before exiting the room.
"Hey," Viv says when she notices you lingering in the background," Lunch is ready if you want to sit."
You can't quite tell if she's just being nice or if this is an order. She looks a bit more stern than Beth does so you do what she says. Today's not the day to test boundaries.
She smiles though, when you sit down and slides you a plate. "I didn't know what you like so I just put on a bit of everything."
You look down at your plate and can't help the smile. She's made sure that everything's separate too, so nothing's touching and nothing will taint each piece of food.
"Thanks," You say softly, digging in. You don't know when they'll next give you a meal so it's better to gorge yourself now. You've got your hoard of food from your horse hidden in the drawers of your bedside table but you'll have to stock up soon because some of that stuff will be out of date very soon and you're not desperate enough to eat spoiled food just yet.
"Have you got a phone?" Beth asks.
You shake your head. You didn't even have wifi back home which really sucked when you were meant to do research for school.
"Here." She chucks a box at you with a smile.
You catch it out of the air and look at it. It's a phone. A brand new one by the looks of it.
You look at Beth and Viv in shock. Your previous foster parents had never given you things like this before. You'd gotten given a brick phone a few years ago when you were first separated from your parents but that had been flogged for drug money almost as soon as you got reunited.
"I..." You swallowed thickly to quell the tears you knew would spill down your cheeks sooner rather than later. "Thank you..."
"No problem," Beth says," Once you get it all set up, I can give you the Netflix password. There's a laptop coming too but we forgot to order it until last night. It should be here soon though, for your school work."
"Thank you..."
You feel a bit like a broken record, incapable of doing anything but repeating the same two words over and over again.
Viv smiles as well, sliding a bag of non-perishables at you. She doesn't say anything about it but you knew that she knew. You're not too sure how she knew but it must have been written in your file somewhere.
Your old social workers had noted a few times that you hoarded food like you were about to go into hibernation.
You like that Viv doesn't make a big deal out of it though. She just slides you the bag and nods.
You're oddly flattered and your opinion of Beth and Viv is cemented in your heart pretty quickly.
You just hope that they don't betray your trust because they're already shaping up to be the best set of foster parents you've ever had and all they're really doing is the bare minimum.
You glance around the house.
It looks nice. It's pretty cosy and warm.
You nod to yourself, looking down at the bag bashfully.
You think that you'll like it here.
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boysborntodie · 4 months
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Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed
-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)
-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes
-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls
-The Greasers always play football together
-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk
-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff
-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of
-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible
-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family
-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11
-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang
-Soda gives killer massages
-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife
-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes
-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it
-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit
-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX
-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him
-Cherry has an older brother
-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog
-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)
-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions
-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him
-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died
-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar
-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger
-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs
-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries
-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store
-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict
-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair
-Johnny loves drag races
-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country
-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting
-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin
-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest
-Darry was the closest to their dad
-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college
-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around
-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'
-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)
-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave
-Johnny has a clean police record
-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous
-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house
-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites
-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes
-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height
-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing
-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either
-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying
-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)
-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church
-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church
-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters
-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth
-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate
-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay
-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper
-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there
-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else
-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew
-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace
-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang
-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads
-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears
-Cherry drives a Sting Ray
-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm
-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems
-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his
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rivatar · 15 days
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“You’re Mine Now”
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Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader
W/c: 2.5k (oops)
Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)
A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖
Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️
P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀
Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.
Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.
It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?
Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.
On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.
Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.
You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.
To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.
Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.
You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.
Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.
BANG, BANG, BANG.
Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.
“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.
What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???
You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.
The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.
“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.
“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”
What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.
Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.
Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.
The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.
“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.
“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.
He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.
“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.
“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.
You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.
He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.
He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.
He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.
“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.
He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.
All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.
He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.
“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.
“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.
Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.
“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.
He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.
He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.
He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.
“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.
He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.
He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.
“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.
You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”
“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”
Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.
“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.
He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.
“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”
Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.
“You never even touched yourself? Really?”
You shook your head no, barely processing his words.
He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”
And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.
You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.
Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.
“Never seen one of these before, have you?”
You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?
He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.
You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.
“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”
You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.
“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.
You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.
You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.
“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.
You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.
“Beg for it”
“W-What?��
“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”
“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.
He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”
“Please! Please! I need it!”
“Good girl,” he finally praised.
Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.
You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.
“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.
He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.
You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder
“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.
You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.
Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.
“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.
“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”
His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.
He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.
“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.
He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.
“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.
“You’re mine now.”
Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)
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schnuckiputz · 1 year
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it takes a while, but one day, after the kids have graduated, eddie and steve pack their most precious things into eddie's van, and they leave. for months, they just drive from city to city, from state to state, go wherever it takes their fancy. until they find a little town surrounded by age-old trees and mountains, with unpredictable weather and more rain and fog than sunshine. but the pacific ocean isn't far, and if they leave early in the day, they can spend a few hours in san francisco's queer neighborhoods.
the town has a little old diner that's a bit run down but has good bones. so, steve and eddie combine their powers: steve knows how to take care of customers, has one of his nonnas old books with delicious cake recipes, and knows how to use it. eddie is a god in the kitchen and knows how to make money stretch. they are both charming, so pretty soon they have a few regulars and a steady stream of patrons.
included, are a group of high schoolers. and neither eddie nor steve know what happened to these kids, but they recognize the looks in their eyes. and they just can't help themselves, both like taking care of people a little bit too much, so they basically adopt this group of little ducklings, offer their time and ears in the hope of making the lives of these kids a little easier.
but the longer they stay, the more the town starts to feel a little...strange. there is something unsettling about the way the woods creak at night, how the shadows stretch at night. sometimes, after locking up the diner, steve lingers by the stairs that go up to their apartment and stares into the woods, and he knows something is looking back.
it comes to head a few months later. the ducklings stayed late at the diner, late enough that it's just them, when the thing that kept its eyes on steve steps out of the forest. for a second, everyone just stills before the kids spring into action. trying to barricade the diner doors.
steve and edddie share a resigned look, a touch, then separate. eddie goes for the high proof alcohol they keep in the kitchen, making molotov cocktails. steve gets the bat from under the counter. it's not the original, but mark ii is sturdier, a little bit deadlier. he tests his swing once, twice, then steps into the way of the first thing the crashes through a window and bats it right back out.
afterward, the diner is a burnt out shell, but everyone is alive. the kids are a little worse for wear, but steve knows this was probably not their first or second rodeo. steve and eddie keep the kids in sight but step around the van a little for some light thank-fuck-we-survived pda.
that's when a bunch of government cars arrive and out steps none other than owens. owens prioritizes the kids at first before movement catches his eyes. he stops, stares and then makes the kids loose their minds when he greets steve and eddie by name.
steve just pinches his nose and sighs. they should have known.
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pochipop · 5 months
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#FNAF MOVIE !! ♡ — SWEET NOTHING (MIKE SCHMIDT X READER).
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#. synopsis! — sometimes it feels like mike may never escape the past, but he hears the future in the beat of your heart (nightmare reverse comfort) .
#. characters! — mike schmidt .
#. warnings! — vague references to past traumatic events (canon compliant) .
#. word count! — 1.1k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. a/n! — i got an autism diagnosis today lmao, makes sense tho.
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The house is dark and shrouded in silence, broken only by Mike’s uneasy groans and his occasional writhing in his sleep. What seemed peaceful at the get-go has become something less content, leaving him entangled in the sheets and pulling most of the shared blanket to his side of the bed. The late autumn chill hanging thick in the air has you shivering, casting a tired, half-lidded gaze to the digital clock resting on the nightstand. It’s four minutes past three thirty in the morning, displayed in vivid, neon green digits that prompt a slight scrunch of displeasure from your face at the glaring brightness.
You remind yourself that this really has gotten better. It’s been weeks since the last time, and he’s been going to therapy like you suggested, even if he was a little unsettled by the idea at first. His new job cleaning up after club-goers at a nearby joint pays pretty well, all things considered, and with your income added to the mix, money is still tight at times, —but he’d decided after the first few sessions that you pressured him into that it was worth the trouble.
Still, that doesn’t negate the obvious. Mike has suffered a lot in his lifetime, and that’s hardly lent itself to consistency or stability. Some of it has been his own doing, while other parts have been far too out of his control, and he’s been learning how to maneavour his way around that misty grey area in between to the best of his ability. But he’s not ineffable, and sometimes, especially on nights like this, the cards fall where they may. At least this time he’s not waking up in a cold sweat, halfway to a panic attack, sweat drenching the mattress beneath him. At least this time he isn’t gasping for breath, clawing at something unseen in the shadows of the bedroom, jerking away like a rodeo bull the moment you reach out to ease him down. 
He mumbles something that sounds like a plea in his sleep, but it’s muffled by the pillow his face is squished against. If he weren’t obviously disgruntled, you might have been tempted to admire how cute he looked for a little while longer.
“Mike,” you say softly, reaching out to rest a gentle hand on his bare shoulder, “hey.”
He reacts slightly to the touch, but isn’t fully awake, so you try again.
“Mike,” you repeat, fingers curling around the curve.
This time, it’s enough. His eyes shoot open, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness, then locking on your face. He sits up slightly, perching on his elbows. The breath he lets out in the aftermath is sobering.
“Sorry,” he utters, letting his head hit the pillow unceremoniously.
You ignore the unnecessary apology in lieu of brushing some loose strands of brown hair away from his forehead.
“You alright?”
He gazes up at you with those sweet, puppy-dog eyes that he doesn’t even have to try to put on. They’re just his natural state, and heaven knows you could spend a few lifetimes gazing into them if it were possible.
“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs a little, reaching up to grab your hand and hold it in his own.
His touch is so soft and tender, albeit calloused and a little clammy from the leftover adrenaline of his nightmare. He’s really come a long way, and you hope he knows that. You wouldn’t mind saying it, but he’d definitely get embarrassed by it, so you avoid laying verbal praise on too thick when you can help it. This time three months ago, he’d have been jumping out of bed to rush down the hall into Abby’s room, only letting himself relax upon seeing her sleeping form bundled up beneath her covers. Now, he takes a deep breath, exhales it slowly, and kisses your wrist.
“Nothing to worry about,” he assures you.
“I always worry about you,” you answer, offering him a lopsided smile.
He gives you a knowing look and replies: “That’s exactly the problem.”
You roll your eyes playfully and watch as he fiddles with your fingers for a bit before glancing in the direction of the clock.
“What time is it?” He asks.
“Too early for you to be awake,” you respond lightly. “You can sleep for a few more hours at least. You’ll need it.”
Mike nods, letting his heavy eyelids close again.
“Bit of an understatement,” he jokes.
It really is though. If anyone knows about hard work, especially hard work for the sake of anyone but himself, —it’s him. The least he deserves is a proper night’s sleep. You figure that’s why it’s so hard for you to see him like this, even when it’s getting better. You’d trade your dreams for his in a heartbeat if it meant he could be less haunted at night.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, voice laden with drowsiness.
He drops your hand only to open his arms, encouraging you to take your place on his chest. It’s comfortable and intimate all the same as you nestle against him, seeking comfort and closeness, and hoping with every fiber of your being that you can offer the same to him. Mike tugs the comforter up to your neck, one arm folding around your shoulders, thumb caressing the fabric of your pajama shirt. For a moment, you find yourself wishing you’d gone to sleep without it, just so he could rub against your skin directly.
You relish in his warmth, body molding to the contours of his own, —finding the closest thing you’ve ever known to heaven on Earth. Quiet connection simmers in the surrounding air, sparking like static electricity, and you let your eyes close.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask quietly.
He probably won’t, but it’s always better to ask, if for nothing else than to let him know that the option is available.
“Not right now,” he replies, and though he’s turning your offer away, there’s an undeniable softness threaded amidst it all.
“Later, then?”
He hums, and you feel it ripple through his chest.
“Maybe.”
Later might never come, but that’s okay. As long as he knows that you’re a safe haven to seek refuge in, then that’s enough for you.
“Just get some sleep for now,” he continues, craning his neck forward to ghost his lips against your forehead, his stubble scratching your skin in a way that makes you smile on command.
“Night,” you mutter quietly, snuggling further into his chest.
“Night, baby,” he returns, smoothing a hand along your hair.
It’s quiet for a moment or two, and then he sheepishly adds: “I love you.”
No matter how many times you hear it, it still gives you butterflies.
“I love you too.”
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dulcimergecko · 26 days
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Sunday Six(ish)
“The law of parsimony dictates that the strange smell and the traces of ash I recovered are due to the mysterious cigarette I found.  That ties in with the traces of ash particles I found in Scotty’s nasal mucus, Straker’s autopsy, Melba Toastya’s necropsy, and the video evidence of Cream Soda.  Why a strange smell, though?  Tobacco is prevalent enough in this society that it is readily identifiable.  Tobacco also hasn’t been reported to have an adverse effect on livestock.  Something else, then, but what?  Molly’s claim that marijuana smoke resembles nothing so much as a dead and decomposing skunk aside, what could the ash be comprised of?"
–Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 29 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze’ 
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moooncats · 4 days
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✿ Pick A Card : Your Vibes ✿
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Pile 1 : Integrity.
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You are full of inspiration which is very addictive. Lowkey- your peers love to absorb your energy so they can get just an ounce of what you have. Please be careful for energy Vampires pile 1! 🧛‍♀️🩸 Use your discretion when interacting with others. I'm seeing here that your energy gives me a feeling of honor. You live life righteously. I'm hearing "Ho'o Pono Pono". Your eyes show the truth in them and your mouth spreads it amongst the universe. People who hear you speak want to follow you. I'm seeing here that you are easily a leader pile 1, and you don't mind if others want to be there by your side as you preach. Trendsetter mindset strongly here. I'm hearing "Genuine". People can just tell that you are wholesome and down to earth. Just like fine wine, your energy is intoxicating. People can tell you have that Je ne sais quoi. You are a truth seeker who is reliable, and you don't really care what people think or say about you. You stay focused in the now. People find that very respectable about you. In my minds eye I'm seeing Mulan. At first what she was doing was against the norms, but she pushed through what others thought and said and did the unthinkable. Pile 1, you are innovators and creatives who have a beautiful aura and energy to share! A true Visionary. ♡ Your soulfulness is really attractive and magnetic as well i'm picking up on old souls. People who resonate with feeling like they've been on earth for a long time and this isn't their first rodeo. People instinctively know not to mess with you, and try to get in your good graces.
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Pile 2 : Dragons.
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This is my lucky pile. 🍀♡ You can see the synchronicities in life and you use that to your advantage. Even if you don't even notice yourself doing so, the universe hears your thoughts and does whatever it can at the moment to match your current frequency which is in tuned with wealth. You may love to be grounded in the 4D, you are well at visualizing your goals, dreams, and aspirations. You may also be very grounded in the 3D as well, for ex: you like to take your time to contemplate your actions before you do them. You understand that some of your idea's don't need much attention so you move in secret, and keep your dreams to yourself/others that you find as ride or dies. This pile may also like to look plain when they go on about their day to day tasks. Even if you have an abundance of wealth. You may not flex often unless needed to "understand the assignment". Like a dragon, you keep your precious possesions locked away in your safe haven. You understand that those precious things keep you sane and on the righteous path that has made you into the person that you are. You know how to work hard, and play hard. ✈️ I'm seeing vacations, pamper days, and being at home relaxed in a setting where you get to choose what surrounds you. You like to keep negative vibes out of your sight so your mind can be more clearer. You understand that when your mind is clear, manifesting becomes easier and easier. ⚠️ PSA for this pile, please be careful when it comes to hoarding. If you feel overwhlemed at times, it is okay to let go and observe how you feel after that. "I just sit back and observe" 💅 by Nicki Minaj is what I'm hearing. Sometimes, less can be more. 🌿 One man's trash, is another man's treasure may also resonate with you pile 2. ✨️
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Pile 3 : Family Friendly.
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You're seen as a bubbly person. I'm seeing truly's and energy drinks in my minds eye. Your energy is sugary and sweet my pile 3 🍸. It is also very intoxicating as well. Imagine a hummingbird landing on a flower. You are that flower. 🌷 Most of your time is spent well with family/those who you consider as family. People like to think of you as someone who is very reliable, they see you as a cruicial part of their daily routine. You may also be seen as the innocent wide eye'd child you once were (or still are). You love to see others happy, and as a result smiles are never far from your reach. 🌈 You seem to get very good reactions out of people. Even if you've seen someone having a rough day and they lash out on you, they ruminate on their actions and start to feel bad because to them - you are their ohana. They wouldn't dare leave you behind because if they did, who would be their sunshine after a rainy day, or their stars in the nightime? Pile 3, you may also be mothers or fathers as well. If so, your kids love you so much. They appriciate everything you do for them. You're seen as a Magician who can conjure up anything for the right occasions. Love is a strong theme for this pile. I'm seeing your heart chakra is open and when you fully embrace it. I just thought of the scene from the grinch when his heart finally grows bigger and he's ready to be a part of the society he is in. You may, be learning to fit in while being an outsider. Although being an outsider, you are like a magnet to others who you piqued their interests. It's hard to be in a bad mood around someone who's buzzing, it is quite contagious. 🐝✨️
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Thank you for reading this, I appreciate you all. If you have any suggestions on the next reading, don't be afraid to let me know in the comments/dm. ^-^ Stay hydrated and weird everyone. Moooncats out! ✌️🦇✨️
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brewed-pangolin · 5 months
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Drunk Text
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Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader
18+ MDNI: Sexual themes.
Synopsis: You send Johnny a drunk text. It ends with a cop at your front door. (I'm teasing you all before the smut hits the literal fan). Unedited because I'm having way too much fun.
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"You up?"
You press 'send'. Thumbs leisurely fumbling over the screen as your vision blurs and mind spins in a concoction of intoxicants.
You were sluggishly writing another message when he responds.
"Aye.
"Where are you?"
You question his inquiry for a moment. Eyes glazed and glancing up at the time on the screen.
2:36am.
Dammit.
"O'Reilly's."
He doesn't respond right away. But you can hear his deep brogue in your mind. Most definitely a stunned yet slightly intrigued 'Steamin' Jesus' escaping his lips.
"Need a ride?"
He's such a gentleman. Always has been. Yet with the sweet ethanol coursing through your veins and clouding your judgement, you couldn't help but give into your fiery and animalistic needs.
"You gonna be my saddle?
Again. No response.
After a few drowned out and muffled moments, his caller ID image popped up on the screen. Your lips curled into a devilish smile, swiping without hesitation to answer the call.
"Hi, Johnny.." You answer. Words slightly slurred. Languidly meandering together and your voice husky with an aire of whiskey fueled confidence.
"Yer a dirty little minx, y'know that?"
"What? You offered me a ride."
"Aye. I did."
There was a slight pause in your thoughts. Overtaken by the cacophony of sounds around you as your mind spiraled into a realm of provocative images.
"Well? Can I get a ride?"
He responded immediately with a rumbling growl. Even with the music blaring and sea of voices behind you, your ears easily picked up the subtle arousal bubbling within his throaty timbre.
"Be there in ten minutes."
You chase your victory with another shot. Hanging up with a triumphant slam of the glass on the bar as you close out your tab and walk out to wait for your drunken trophy at the front of the bar.
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Two hours later, you were standing in the doorway of your apartment. Repeatedly apologizing to the officer in the hall and reassuring him there was most certainly not an altercation going on.
"I am so sorry, officer. Believe me, there's nothing going on."
You wrap the knitted blanket tightly around your chest and underneath your arms. Shielding your apparent nudity while the officer looks at you with a slightly gregarious grin.
"Just keep it down, ma'am."
"Yes, sir."
You both turn and part ways. He disappearing down the hall as you close the door and immediately march back into your bedroom.
And you can't help the sly grin curling into your lips as your eyes take in his overly confident expression. His hands resting behind his head, his muscular torso expanding as he takes in the sight of you.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, Johnny." You tease. The blanket around you effortlessly falling to the floor as your eyes lock into his dark and hungry gaze.
"Mmm. I'm countin' on it, bonnie."
If there was one thing that rang true that night, it was that your neighbors wouldn't get a moments rest. Because you were too busy riding a Scotsman like a whiskey possessed cowgirl.
The rodeo had definitely come into town.
(Omg, this last line is so stupid. But I had to.)
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Part 2?
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@deadbranch @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @sofasoap @jynxmirage @homicidal-slvt @obligatoryghoststare @glitterypirateduck @kkaaaagt @mykneeshurt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @macravishedbymactavish @haurasha
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ghouljams · 3 months
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https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFRNJTBb/
This reminds me of your cowboy au.
But maybe keegan?
...Price. But YES also Keegan. ooh goddamn his sort of cowboy confidence gets me goin'
Keegan is a man who knows what he wants, who doesn't accept compromise or second best. He thinks on his feet, but that doesn't mean he isn't planning his next move. He's adaptable. He's adapted to you, at the very least. He knows all your ticks, all your little twitches, knows when you're upset you spend hours brushing your horse, and when you're happy even the rain won't stop you from grabbing your saddle. He knows the route to every rodeo on the circuit, and exactly what time you like to get there.
He's committed, he's locked in. He has you wrapped in his arms in bed every night and he's got no plans to let go. Not when you slip your arm around his waist and hold on so tightly.
But it's not the soft moments, it's not your ticks, it's not anything he could have predicted that make him do it. It's the way you scoop a lamb up into your arms and side step the waterlogged part of the paddock that does it, the way you kiss the baby's head before you set it down with its mama. It's the way you wrap your flannel, his flannel, tighter around you and hug your arms around your chest to watch his flock like they're your own. They are, they will be. Keegan's started thinking of his farm as your dowry, the only thing he can offer besides himself.
(Besides a warm bed, and home cooked meals. Besides evenings on the couch and puppies in the spring. Besides the way he holds your hand and kisses the tips of your fingers until you push at his face and tell him to stop. Besides the way that he loves you, more than he could have ever thought possible.)
Keegan doesn't bother dropping to one knee, doesn't bother doing more than taking your hand to pull you close. He's never been terribly fancy, and you've never asked him to be.
"Marry me." Keegan tells you with such a softness in his eyes that you almost can extend it to the rough rumble of his voice. You smile, look away to keep him from seeing you grin, seeing how pleased he makes you.
"That's a statement," You laugh, pressing your hand to your lips when you can't stop the smile.
"It's a demand," He corrects, and you don't think you would've wanted it any different.
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kaylinlmfao · 4 months
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i hate you! but oh how i love you
type of piece: imagine, drabble, oneshot, series
type(s) of writing: smut, fluff, angst, dark, suggestive
warning(s): mentions of sexual stuff but no actual smut in this part, teasing,, murder, violence, gore, this is mostly just plot
pairings(s): dark!dom!ethan landry x sub!fem!reader
A/N: here is a special, dark fic for a treat for me and for you guys. keep the requesting coming! I love this request, more like this one please! thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! this is part 1 (no smut just plot)
if i wrote an ethan x fem fanfiction and kinda combined the elements of my oneshots and put them into an actual book would y'all read it? (on wattpad)
just a couple of different things from the movie in this fic. sam, tara, kirby, and chad all die. so do quinn and bailey. all killed by ethan. ethan survives and we'll see where it goes from there.
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"ok, ew. get a room you two." you say to tara and chad, accidentally walking in on them kissing. "how about you get a room? we already have one. this room." tara tells you, laughing. she knows you're excited for her. she's liked chad for as long as you can remember. your smile fades as you look behind her. "TARA MOVE!" you shout as the masked killer drives a knife into tara's back. she lets out a cry of pain as chad begins dodging and fighting the killer. "oh my god, tara." you run over to help her up off the floor. "it's ok. it's ok" you try to reassure yourself. you lift tara off the floor, slinging her arm over your shoulder as you try to get her to the door.
"chad! come on" you shout as he kicks the ghostface hard, then rushing over to help you with tara. you swing open the door. "oh my god!" tara shouts. you scream as you see sam barrel through the door. she looks at the three of you in shock before chad starts rushing us to go. "come on, go go go." he ushers us through the door as i glance back at the figure, struggling to get up from their place on the ground. "it's kirby! she's the killer!" sam exclaims as you all are running through the theater. "no shit!" chad runs over to the door you came in before being stopped. "it's locked. come on." "so we're trapped?" you ask, full of fear. this isn't your first rodeo with ghostface, oh no, but you always feel a huge wave of fear when seeing the mask. whether you see a person wearing the mask on the street, or seeing an actual killer wearing it, it brings back bad memories of your ex girlfriend.,
"kirby made this whole theater a kill box. for us." sam voices. tara spins and points upwards. "hey, what about that? there's an exit door. maybe it leads to the roof or something?" she asks, breathless. "there's only one way to find out. let's go." chad orders, grabbing tara's hand. i grip sam's hand as we turn to run. suddenly, another masked ghostface comes out from behind the curtain, swinging their knife. with an extra hard swing, one of the mannequin heads goes flying. "beheadings!" chad shouts, tackling the killer. "chad!" you shout, pointing to the camera behind him as sam rushes to help tara. "smile for the camera motherfucker" chad exclaims, swinging the camera, the figure on the floor flying back from the force of the blow
you push the movie curtain past you quickly, running through. "over there!' tara points as ghostface comes barreling from somewhere behind you. you take the lead, running down the narrow hallway, just trying to get away. another masked killer appears on the opposite end of the hall. now, you're all blocked in from both sides. before chad turns and throws the camera he's still holding at the pursuer behind you. "get fucked!" he shouts. you run into the room you began in, chad pulling the popcorn machine down in front of the figure rushing after you all. the killer swings his knife at chad, aiming to slice and dice. sam and tara each grab one of it's arms, pulling the person back. you subtlety turn, looking for the metal baseball bat you brought for protection. bingo. you grab it from where you leaned it against the wall while talking to chad and tara.
you take the bat in your hands, shout a loud battle cry, and swing at the masked figure, hard. they go flying to the floor with a loud cry of pain. it's a female. now more proof that it's kirby. tara pulls her foot back, crying out from the strain on her wound, and kicks the masked person on the floor, hard. "holy shit tara. brutal" you say, grabbing her and sam, backing up as chad picks up a glass machine off of the counter. "you hit them with a baseball bat" sam counters as chad fixes to throw the glass on the ghostface writhing in pain on the floor. you chuckle with pride. "i know." you see something behind chad that makes you scream in fear. "chad!" you cry, trying to warn him. you're too late, and you watch as the killer drives their knife into you're best friend's side. "no!" you and tara shout in unison. sam holds tara back, gripping your arm at the same time.
the other killer stands and they begin stabbing chad, over and over. you're on the verge of breaking down, again. deja vu. and your boyfriend ethan and mindy still haven't shown yet. you hope and pray that everyone survives this as you turn, unable to watch the scene in front of you, but knowing that there is nothing you can do to help chad. "run" he mouths to you, smiling sadly, blood flowing freely from his mouth and the other wounds on his torso. his body falls to the floor, and the two masked killers wipe their knifes in one swift motion. you run with tara and sam, vision blinded by tears. you cry out in surprise as another ghostface emerges from behind the curtain. the masked killer from before appears on the other side, shaking and waving their knife at you.
sam reaches down and picks up three bricks, handing one to tara and offering one to you. with a shake of your head, you decline. "i've got this" you say, readying your bat to begin swinging. you, tara, and sam form a triangle, tara and yourself gripping hands, sobbing. "ready?" sam asks as tara lets out a cry. "i need you both to be ready? ready?" she repeats. you nod, reaching for her hand, closing the circle. your holding onto sam and tara's hands for dear life, watching as the two sisters reach for the others hand. "deja vu" you whisper. "look at me" sam orders you and tara. "ready?" you glance at sam, then at tara. you may not be blood, but these are your sisters. "im ready" tara tells her. they both look at you. "ready as ill ever be" you say with a smirk, slinging your bat over your shoulder. "come on motherfucker!" tara screams, baiting the masked figure behind you.
suddenly, a loud gunshot sounds from behind you and you see kirby emerge from behind the movie curtain. "it's ok." she attempts to calm the three of you. "stay the fuck back!" sam shouts. "we know it's you kirby." tara tells her. "no! one of them knocked me out." she says, breathless and panting. "kirby stop! get away from the girls" detective bailey orders, pointing his gun at her. kirby mirrors his motions, pointing her gun at him too. "what are you doing?" kirby questions. "did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?!" bailey asks, distraught. "jesus christ! whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him. he's probably the killer." a ghostface appears behind the detective. "behind you!" kirby shouts, trying to warn him. two gunshots are fired and kirby falls to the ground. "holy shit." you say, shocked. "great job" bailey praises the ghostface standing behind him. "oh fuck this fucking shit. you cheap fuck!" you scream, staring at kirby's body in shock.
another ghostface emerges from behind detective bailey. "both of you" "you?" tara asks, still in shock. "yeah, of course me. frankly, i expected more from the two of you after what you did to us." "what do you mean us?" the one on bailey's left pulls her mask off. "quinn?" (i know i changed the order but it fits my idea better) sam asks in shock. "hey roomies. you didn't see that one coming did you?" "yeah, because you died!" "kinda didn't though. it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab gale weathers, stab mindy on the train, that sort of thing." "yeah, and i just made sure i was first on the scene so i could switch her body out with a fresh one. little fake blood, a prosthetic. you'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with" you jump a little, pumping your fist. "i fucking knew it! i knew it! i told you guys that she wasn't dead, but you didn't believe me! i told you, i said she wasn't dead. the blood on her walls was fake. I FUCKING KNEW IT!" "so who's the other one?" "mindy?" you ask, breath caught in your throat.
the mask was pulled off and your legs buckled at seeing your beloved boyfriend, ethan. you fell to your knees, feeling the rush of emotions that you felt a year ago come back to you. ethan looks at you with a deranged look in his eyes. "mindy was right. it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. all i had to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named chad. fuck, it felt good to kill him!" ethan continued speaking but you tuned him out. you couldn't stand to hear his voice or look at his face. you couldn't do this again. you just couldn't. the emotions were flooding you, the feelings overwhelming. you stared down at the floor, tears dripping onto the floor. feelings of hopelessness, sadness, betrayal all coursed through your veins. but soon they were all covered with a thick blanket of rage. red hot rage.
you stood, reminding yourself to stay strong. staring at the ground, tears still slipping down your cheeks. "i got stu macher's mask. he was my favorite." quinn says. "nice. that's number three, and that's number two." he pulls a ghostface mask from within his jacket. "which leaves, your sister's" he says pointing at you. "who's your sister?" tara whispers. "jill roberts" you whisper, still looking at the floor in shame. "this is what we've been counting down to, y/n. i'm gonna need you to put it on." bailey looks at you, holding the mask out to you. so broken. "fuck you!" you hear sam yell on behalf of you. ethan swings and slices open sam's upper arm. "ok! ok! im taking it, jesus. you psychopath" you glare at the boy you once thought you loved. you take the mask in your hands and stare down ashamed at it. you feel someone slip behind you to come stand in front of you. you know it's ethan. you know. he grips your chin, pulling your chin up to point your gaze at him. "oh princess. there's nothing to be ashamed of." he stares deep into your eyes, noticing how cold they are. you've never looked at him like this before.
but it's ok. he has a plan. and eventually, you'll get over it and understand. and you'll be his, though you have been since the day he saw you for the first time. he backs up to stand next to his father and sister. you were still staring at the mask that you held. suddenly, you heard commotion from behind you and saw the fight begin. but you couldn't. you couldn't fight. you didn't have it in you. quinn and bailey vs sam and tara. it wasn't a fair fight, that's for sure. sam and tara didn't have any weapons. you could help them a little bit but then you needed to find a way out of this stupid theater. you ran over to kirby and saw that she was still conscious, but barely. "i'm gonna need this. ill go get help. i promise" you whisper softly. kirby looks at you hard for a moment, and you share a moment of understanding before she slipped into unconsciousness.
you turn, feeling eyes on you. ethan. he isn't helping his father or sister. it's as though his only focus is you. his stare is scaring you, and though you'd never admit it, causing a heat to rush down to your core. damn him. you hate him. you do. but, oh. how you love him. (see what i did there lol?) you walk towards tara and sam, crying out when you feel someone coming up behind you, grabbing you by your throat and yanking you against their upper body. "fuck you, ethan!" you yell, drawing the attention from both your family and his. "but sweetheart, we already did that. i love to to do it again though." he whispers, kissing your neck softly. you bring your elbow forward and elbowing him hard, taking ethan by surprise and giving you just enough to to slip out of his grasp. "sam!" you shout, getting her attention from quinn advancing on her.
"catch" you bring your hand back and throw kirby's gun. for a split second, you think she won't catch it. it will slip from her grasp and everything will go downhill from there. and so it does. the gun slips and falls down to the ground, where you try to grab it. but a tall, 6'2 figure stands in your way. you're on your knees and he's standing in front of you. you're eye level with his bulge. you remember this position all too well. and judging by the smirk on ethan's face, he remembers it pretty well too. he opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something that will infuriate you further. "oh just shut up! oh my god, you bent, twisted motherfucker!" you yell, standing quickly.
your breath catches in your throat as you realize how close you are to ethan. the height difference between the two of you was causing you to be eye level with his chest. you could see his muscles in his chest as he took a deep breath. you feel his fingers lifting your chin, so gentle, like you were glass and ethan was afraid to put the slightest crack on you. your eyes meet ethan's and you almost whimper. ethan's gaze on you is nothing like he's ever looked at you like before. full of lust, looking at you like he was going to devour you. "ethan" you breathe, so quiet, so soft. you quickly snapped out of the trance he had you in and dove, grabbing the gun off the ground and pointing it at ethan.
ethan began slowly walking towards you. "put the gun down princess." he says it as he normally would, but you feel mocked and teased. "you better back the fuck up unless you want a bullet in between your eyes, princess." you mock him, quickly walking backwards until your back is met with a hard surface. ethan continues walking towards you until there is only a enough space to put the gun against his chest in between the two of you. he glances down at it and then back at you as he speaks. "oh? don't talk like that. we both know you wouldn't be able to pull the trigger, sweet girl" you blush at the nickname and you know he sees.
"go ahead, pull the trigger." you freeze up as he move closer to the point where you have to move the gun, the butt pressing painfully against your chest. you hear the commotion going on in the background, but with the way ethan is standing above you with a bloody hands, it's making you dizzy and you feel like you're gonna pass out. you feel your head empty just as he somehow always caused it to do. it takes an extreme amount effort to get your head straight, telling yourself that this isn't ethan. it isn't the ethan you fell in love with, at least.
you swallow. "fuck you." you whisper, feeling the burning tension between the both of you. ethan chuckles as his expression turns to one of even deeper lust. you feel his hot breath on your face as you get angrier at the slick forming in your panties. "fuck you." "i hate you so much. i hate you for doing this to me and for breaking my fucking heart. i wish–" you stop at as ethan begins to speak. "what do you want, sweetheart? keep fucking talking, slut. keep trying to convince me you hate me." his gaze drifts to your lips. "i hate you" you sob. you're interrupted by the feeling of your mouths crashing together in a rough, lustfilled kiss. and, to your own surprise, you don't fight it. you can't bring yourself to shove him away. the sexual tension between the two of you had gone to the point of being unbearable, and the harsh way his lips move against yours and the way his tongue probes into your mouth makes you light headed.
ethan pulls away and looks at your lust filled, scared expression. "that's what i thought. you still want me, even i killed all your friends." you shake your head with a whimper, tears running down your cheeks. "i don't want you." you whisper. "oh my pretty girl. so confused, aren't you? don't you remember you cockdrunk and sobbing after i fucked you just last night?" he brings his lips to your ears, whispering. "when you couldn't say anything at all? all you could do was cry and beg me to stop touching your sensitive cunt and your puffy little clit? and i know you want to do it again. dirty little whore. my dirty little whore."
'i don't want you" you say, more trying to convince yourself than trying to convince ethan. he laughs, glancing down at your tear streaked face and big doe eyes. "ok, little one. ok" you wiped your tears quickly and shoved him off of you, turning and running down the nearest hallway. "you don't have to run, you know. I'm gonna catch you no matter how fast you are." you hear. ethan’s voice is cold and irritated as he stalks towards the hallway you just turned into. you're distracted as you trip over a gap in the hardwood floor and come crashing to the floor, and then, the sound of his steps hurrying up to meet you fill your heart with even more fear. your heart is already racing from the adrenaline of trying to escape the psychopath that you once called your boyfriend. The bloody tip of his knife rounds the corner before he does, and it's enough to fuel your desire to get up and stumble around the nearest corner, into a bathroom.
you slam the door behind you with the force of your body against it, and attempt to fumble with the lock for a split second before running to grab the nearest object, a marble vase to try and buy you a few seconds. It's not even seconds until he's turning the knob, trying to get in. the door rattling the entire room suddenly and your heart hitting the floor as he speaks. "open the door, my love. i won't hurt you as long as you behave." you're not allowed even a second opportunity to look for a way out, to even consider the option of jumping out the second story window on to the concrete below, or just hide and pray for mercy. Because three loud, earth-shattering crashes of his shoulder meeting the hardwood door splinters it almost immediately after the third hit, and you're so close to the door that one of those shards flies and slices open the heel of your hand–and now, instead of using those few precious moments to come up with a plan to get away, you're crying and grabbing your wrist in pain, blood gushing from the wound and splattering all over the white tile floor.
the pain derails your whole train of thought, your vision blurring with tears as you fall back and shake with shock, leaving a trail of crimson blood on the tile behind that leads straight to you. one more crash of ethan's shoulder against the door does the trick, and ethan has successfully crushed a hole in the bathroom door, his arm reaching through to unlock it so it only takes a quick kick to open. "man, you made me break the door. this is probably pretty valuable" his eyes turn to you, bright and brown and angry. "and you cut your wrist." ethan reaches out for you, and doesn't stop when you flinch away from him. you have nowhere else to go, no way out, what are you gonna do? you're aren't a threat to anyone but yourself. you're a helpless little thing, and when ethan does grab you, he's gripping your wrists so hard you're already begging him to stop and let go. "why don't you beg me not to kill you, princess?" he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, behind your ear to whisper it directly into your ear–his voice makes you shiver, like it's a cold breeze in the across your neck. "i'm kinda considering it. you're pissing me off. you won't stop running away from me"
"what now? why are you looking at me like that?" he moves away from you to meet your eyes, but the fear is clear in yours–you watched him help murder your best friends, your family. what does he think you are? happy? no, you're petrified. "i'm so scared…" "scared? I'm scaring you?" You nod your head in the most pathetic fashion, with a quivering lip to top it off. ethan isn't just scary. A horror movie is scary, a bump in the night is scary. ethan, he's utterly terrifying.
"Then why are you soaking wet?" His question stops your mind in it's tracks, confusion etched on your face, but your stuttering and stammering stops short when you feel his big hand brush your thigh. you jerk away from him on instinct, but his harsh grip on your hurt arm keeps you flush against him, and you're forced to stand and shiver as his fingers fly under your skirt and they come to cup your pussy over your panties. he rubs a teasing thumb into what should be a random spot, but he knows where your clit is from past experience and knows how to press so firmly and hard to make you squeal. even your body is betraying you right now, and that strip of soft fabric between your legs is completely soaked for him to enjoy to the fullest. "you want this. you want me, huh? so bad that you're soaked" you shake your head no violently, too wound up to open your mouth because you know the words won't come out the way you want them to.
"yeah, that's it. you want me to fuck your brains out. you just want my attention. that's why you're running from me. you want me to catch you." "No!" you sob, trying to push him away again. ethan ignores your outburst and the shove you try to give him to get him off, ethan yanks you harder against him for you to feel how hard he is beneath the ghostface costume he's wearing, and for his fingers to prod you even rougher as he blindly searches for a way into your panties. "I don't want you ethan!" "You do!" He barks back, the growl of his voice sending an unwanted cold shiver up your spine. now he's found a way in, his fingertips brushing your folds before losing any gentle or tenderness they might have had and pushing their way inside. He's big, brutal, fingers working in to spread you out and shucking all that wet slick into his palm. his lips meet your cheek, hot and soft, and he has you hooked. nothing but him
you feel his breath hot and shaky on your ear. He doesn't seem to care you're up on your tiptoes, gasps of pain and pleasure dying in your throat, because he's got his fingers so fucking deep. ethan is preoccupied, you know as much by the absent strokes against your clit with his thumb, moving in no specific direction. "so pretty like this. blood on your face, crying for me." ethan pulls away suddenly, cheek still sticky with blood you wish was fake. it's on you too, smeared down your jaw like a smudge of scarlet paint, and his hands are covered in it too, that he's rubbing it into you for his own pride and sick pleasure. while he looks you in the eyes, he doesn't move his fingers from inside you, nor shows any expression aside from a deep, dark lust over his brown eyes that betrays the terror that a true psychopath could bestow.
"Your body is mine. this pretty pussy is mine. You're all mine." He mutters below his breath, spreading his fingers inside you to watch you gasp and your eyelids flutter as they fill with tears. you let out a loud cry as you coat ethan's fingers with your cum. as you come down from your high, you think about how wrong this is. your friends, they would want you to get out. they would want you to get to the hospital and tell mindy and gale before ethan got there first. "get away from me" you say, shoving ethan away hard. "but i don't want to. i want you to ride me and milk my cock until you're crying" he says it so innocently, it infuriates you to no end. "shut the fuck up!" he opens his mouth again to probably say something even dirtier, but you don't let him. maybe it's time to take a different approach. "you really want my pussy to clench around you? to milk you dry while i cry and scream your name? you want me to jump on your fucking dick until i can't think?" you ask him in a sultry tone.
he groans loudly. "fuck yeah, princess. i do. and i fucking will every single thing you just said right here, in every damn room in this fucking theater. you'll be so fucked out and overstimulated you'll be begging me to stop." "oh?" you tilt your head, looking at him. this is it. he moves towards you slowly, away from the destroyed door. "well ethan. let's do it then." you feel his big hand on the back of your neck as he slams your lips onto his. you quickly bring your knee straight up, nailing him in the dick. "well, you can't do any of those things if i cut your fucking dick off, can you?" your mood changed so fast you couldn't even regulate it. it was like you had an alternate, darker personality. just like ethan. you look at him, a deranged and feral look in your eyes. ethan wasn't scared. he was turned on. and now, he was pissed as fuck and in pain. he wanted to pound you until you cried, remind you who could make you feel so small so quickly. you stomp hard on ethan's foot as he cried out in pain. "you wanna know my secret? it wasn't sam who sliced up your brother. it was me. after he fucking groomed my girlfriend." that part was not true either. it was also not true when people said you were just like your sister. but he doesn't need to know that. ethan almost came in his pants. you were so hot when you were feral, though it was acting and he knew it.
you turned and ran out the door while he was distracted. you needed to get help. some of your friends could be alive. "man, i should get an oscar. that was some amazing acting if i do say so myself" but before you could find an exit, someone pulled you back. it wasn't ethan, it was kirby. she was still on the floor, barely conscious. she grabbed your ankle and you leaned down slowly. "im going to get help. it's ok." you attempt to reassure her. "get out of here. there is an exit behind the back hallway. there's a room behind there. it's soundproof, it's what they used for filming and editing. there is door that leads outside. go" she struggled to finish speaking before she passed out again. you followed her instructions, turning past chad and bolting towards the door. you're running fast, and you speed around a corner. next thing you know, you run into a hard chest and you're sprawled out on your back. sharp curses leave your mouth as you stare up at ethan. "fuck me" you curse. ethan smirks. "that's the plan, princess."
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project-sonadow · 2 months
Text
happy hour drabble # 2
Sonic had been dragging his feet all day. It was Monday again, which meant there wasn't much to do at Speedy's. Count the change, polish his roller skates, clean the fryers. That was his routine. By the end of his shift, it felt like there were lead blocks stuffed in his socks.
One of his coworkers gave him a strange look when he hung up his hat. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing," the girl replied. For some reason, her eyes looked sad. "Get some rest tonight, won't you, Arthur? We can't have you calling out; you're our best skater!"
Sonic raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask what she meant by that, she disappeared out the back door. Though her voice was muffled now, he could still make out her last request: "And don't forget to lock up!"
Rolling his eyes, Sonic twirled the keys in between his fingers and shook his head. This wasn't his first rodeo! After switching out his skates for his regular, non-wheeled shoes, he left the restaurant with his laces still untied. The door closed behind him, and he locked it with a soft click.
Shadow was waiting for him in his usual spot. The headlights on Shadow's motorcycle illuminated the dark parking lot with warm yellow light, and its engine filled the air with a weighty hum. Sonic hopped onto the back of the bike in one swift motion, and then wrapped his arms around Shadow’s waist like he'd been waiting to do it all day.
"No detours tonight," Sonic said. "I'm bushed!"
Shadow glanced back over his shoulder and was greeted by a mess of wild brown-and-blue quills. "Fine," he said. "That disaster you call a coat would give us away in an instant. Save your strength so I can fix it before bed."
If Sonic replied, it was drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle's engine as it roared to life. Sonic rested his head against Shadow's shoulder as the dark hedgehog drove them back to their apartment. The cool air felt nice against Sonic's fur as the wind whipped through it.
Soon, they arrived. Shadow parked the motorcycle in front of their apartment building before the two of them got off. Only then, under the bright white streetlights, did Shadow see the red flush on Sonic's cheeks. Without so much as a word, Shadow stepped forward and pressed the back of his hand against Sonic's forehead.
"Uh?" Sonic blinked. "Sh-- Lance? What're you...?"
Shadow dropped his hand from Sonic's forehead. "You're burning up," he said matter-of-factly. Then, he took Sonic's hand. "Come. Let's go inside."
Sonic let Shadow lead him up the stairs as he processed what he'd just said. "Wait," Sonic said as Shadow pushed open the door to their apartment. "I'm sick? But it's Monday!"
"Correct."
After both of them were inside the apartment, Shadow shut the door. Now, Sonic's face was screwed up like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. "That doesn't make any sense," Sonic was saying. "I wasn't sick last Monday, or last last Monday, or--"
Shadow interrupted, "It's possible our minds aren't the only things that remain intact throughout time."
Sonic frowned, "So, someone's germs from the last loop are making me sick in this one?" He paused to think about that for a second. "That's not good, dude. That means..."
"Any consequences will persist regardless of our current place in time," Shadow finished. He was frowning now, too.
"Great," Sonic said, even though nothing about this was great. "Well, there goes my Plan A."
"And what was that?"
Sonic grinned, "'Run straight at the bad guy and hope for the best'!"
Shadow pursed his lips and sighed. Loudly. With agitation. "That's always your plan."
Sonic opened his mouth to reply, but a sneeze cut off whatever snarky remark he had prepared. His grin faded as he remembered how tired he was. Talk about a buzzkill! Next time he saw Tails, he'd have to ask him to make a shrink ray, so he could fight off germs with his fists.
Shadow shook his head as he watched Sonic's ears droop. "Go. Sit," he said. "I'll take it from here."
Sonic wanted to argue, but Shadow’s stern brown eyes made him feel funny. “Whatever,” Sonic muttered as he averted his gaze. “Just don’t take too long. I can’t promise I’ll stick around if you do!”
In truth, Sonic wasn’t going anywhere. Now that he was free from the constraints of his 9 to 5, and the horrors of capitalism were held back by the immutable strength of their apartment door, he was left with nothing to distract him from his fever. He shuffled into the bathroom and plopped down on the stool, waiting for Shadow to come in with the dye.
He sniffled. His bones hurt. He scratched his head, irritated. This never would’ve happened to world famous superhero, Sonic the Hedgehog. It was only because he was disguised as some random punk that he’d gotten sick.
“I seem to remember your fox friend recounting a tale to the contrary,” Shadow suddenly said. He’d appeared in the doorway, dye in hand. “Something about you and Arabian Nights…?”
Sonic waved his hand. “That was different,” he said.
Shadow popped the lid off a bottle of brown dye. “Oh? Is that so?”
Huffing indignantly, Sonic replied, “Yeah. That time, my worst enemy was a super powerful genie. This time, it’s customers!”
Shadow lowered his head. Sonic could’ve sworn he saw him smile. “Hold still,” Shadow said, his hands freshly gloved up and covered in dye. “I’ll be quick.”
Regardless of the truth of that statement, Sonic was physically, mentally, and emotionally incapable of holding still. He tried. Of course, he didn’t want to squirm around like a worm in the rain. But he couldn’t help it! Just like he couldn’t help but tap his foot against the linoleum, his claws clack-clack-clacking against the tile as he did so. That was, until one of Shadow’s hands moved to the back of Sonic’s left ear, and Sonic froze.
Sonic felt Shadow rub the dye into his fur. He felt his claws brush gently against the softest part of his ear. And Sonic stopped thinking about how lame it was to be sick. He didn’t worry about holding still. His heart fluttered in his chest and his eyes closed, totally focused on how good it felt to have Shadow’s fingers in his fur.
Shadow paused, having noticed the strange shift in Sonic’s behavior. But there was no time for him to lean forward and investigate, because a gentle pressure was now pushing against the palm of his hand, urging him to continue. 
It was Sonic, leaning into Shadow’s touch. 
Shadow nearly choked, but he managed to keep his composure. He isn’t feeling well, Shadow reminded himself. That’s all this was.
And yet, when Shadow resumed styling Sonic’s quills, he wasn’t thinking about covering up all the blue spots anymore. Instead, he focused his attention on just that one spot behind Sonic’s ear. He didn’t know why. Maybe he pitied Sonic. As the Ultimate Lifeform, he would never know how it felt to be ill.
Sonic leaned deeper into Shadow’s touch. His tense shoulders relaxed. His job, their mission, the time loop–none of that mattered anymore. Somewhere inside his chest, next to his heart, a soft rumbling began. Purring.
Sonic was purring.
Abruptly, Shadow stood. He turned away from Sonic, so he didn’t see him blink his eyes open sleepily. 
“Shadow…?”
“That’s all for now,” Shadow said stiffly. “Count yourself lucky. If not for your… illness… you would’ve been sitting there for much longer.”
And then he exited the bathroom, leaving Sonic sitting there as the last of his purrs quietly faded away.
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