#2k words in snips

[appalachianapologies]

before i go to bed i wrote 1.6k of chapter eight of upon taking lethal damange blah blah blah here’s a snip:

“Weird things always happened to Mac at school, when we were kids.”

“No they didn’t,” Mac interjects.

“Dude, you kiddin’ me? All the freaky things revolved around you. Books that looked like they were gonna land on your feet ended up falling to the side, and one time you nearly closed your locker on your fingers but somehow they were fine. Remember that time we climbed that tree to escape Donnie?”

“Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You fell. Foot slipped on the way down and you took a freakin’ header. Or at least, that’s what it looked like to me. I was scared outta my mind, dude. But then you just jumped right back up off the ground like you weren’t hurt at all.”

Mac gives a weak laugh. “It’s because I wasn’t. You even told your mom, but I was fine.”

“Mac, you don’t remember the way you fell. It looked like you were gonna land on your neck or somethin’.”

#id say ''the plot thickens'' but we kind of know that these things are happening #it's more like #the already thick plot got some more corn starch and flour #it's so thick it's nearing a solid at this point #anyway BOZER TIME #IT'S BOZE TIME BABY #i finally finally finally have space to write bozer and he's the best!! #absolute icon if i do say so myself #and i do #anyway mac your ability to not stay alive is NOT subtle #2k words in snips #ga au #in which vi actually writes

[rafescurtainbangz]

Fine - Billy Hargrove One Shot +18

Minor DNI

2k

Billy Hargrove x female reader

Based off of an ask by @billysbot :

SMUT, lots of pet names, language, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, practically plotless, ownership kink, cum play, manipulative Bills; canon-typical assholary

★Lightly edited★

Y/N’s POV:

“Co’mere,” you whisper through panting breaths, tugging Eddie towards Steve’s room. The speakers blare from downstairs; the upstairs of the Harrington’s packed like a brothel.

Eddie takes you into his arms, pinning you against the wall; deepening your kiss. You moan against his lips, rolling your hips to soothe the want between your thighs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie mutters between kisses; his soft, sweet lips moving effortlessly with yours. “Been waiting for this for a while. I-”

“The fuck is going on here?” You hear the deep bark of your ex. Ugh, Goddamnit. “Kissin’ my girlfriend, Munson?”

“Not your girlfriend, Hargrove,” you snap.

“Since when baby?” He steps a little closer. You feel Eddie’s grip loosen; setting you on the floor, fear setting in as Billy closes in on the two of you. You grit your teeth, feeling your anger swell.

“I’ll call you. Okay?” Eddie whispers, hastily; looking at Billy out of the corner of his eye. You can tell he's nervous; which is valid, honestly, because you belong to Billy whether you hate him or not.

“You won’t,” Billy laughs. “You're not gonna talk to her ever again. You understand?”

“Yeah - yeah. Understood,” Eddie mumbles as he meets your eyes again. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

“Call her sweetheart again. Please,” Billy pleads; an unhinged look in his piercing blue eyes as he challenges Eddie to say one more fucking word.

Eddie turns on his heels, disappearing down the steps.

“Have a nice night, honey,” Billy smiles; flashing you a wink, following close behind Eddie.

You reach out, clawing the shoulder of his red button-down; yanking him back to you as he releases a manic laugh. SLAP. The sound of your hand cracking his cheek resounds through the hallway.

A wicked smile spreads on Billy’s lips; your act of violence carrying the opposite effect, Billy craving more per usual.

“I fucking hate you,” you hiss.

“Sure you do,” he hums; as he steps closer, backing you into the wall. It’s true… it’s not just lip service I fucking hate him. I hate the way I can’t get over him, the way he’s constantly on my mind even when he treats me like absolute dog shit; the way he says I’m the only one; but, can’t quite seem to keep that promise. I hate that I still love him. “Were you gonna fuck Munson?” He winces, looking back at you in disgust. “Are times really that tough?”

“Leave me alone, Billy.” You blow by him, shoulder-checking him on the way to the stairs. He reaches out for you, hauling you back in. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“To find Steve. He’s always a good time. And, he’s not scared of you. Bigger dick too.” Lie.

“Fuck you,” Billy growls; his ego bruised as you strike a nerve. A devilish smile tugs on your lips this time.

“We done here?” You chuckle; just pressing his buttons further.

“Not even close.”

Billy’s lips crash into yours, taking your breath away as his hips push into you, guiding you back to the wall. You can feel his bulge, rock-hard against you as he grinds, keeping cadence with your kiss. You give in momentarily; hands, skimming up his muscular body, resting on his firm chest before shoving him off.

“Get off of me!”

You stride away but he grabs you, tossing you effortlessly over his shoulder. “Remember that safe word? I haven’t heard it yet, princess. You must still want my cock. Am I right or am I right?” He sneers as he steps into Harrington’s room, slamming the door shut.

“Billy!” You scream; doing your best to fight your way out of his arms; but, he’s right. He's all you want.

“You think I’m happy about this?” He snips. “I was about to fuck, Rachael Dalton. Pretty little thing; sweet fuckin’ ass, perfect tits. And then you, you decided to sneak in here with Munson. And we can’t have that now. Can we?”

“Why? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You groan.

“‘Cause you’re mine, baby.”

He can't be serious.

“I’m not, Billy. You don’t own me.”

The corners of his lips curl into a little smile. “Well, we both know that isn’t true. Is it, sweetheart?” Billy lunges forward, lips locking with yours. You kiss passionately, gasping for air, gripping his long locks; your body aching for contact.

Heat fans across your being; a steady pulsing between your thighs, an ache in your core that was missing with Eds. No one would ever compare to Billy. It's fucking infuriating.

His blood-red shirt is pulled taut across his broad shoulders; chest fully exposed. You pull at what little buttons remain; Billy quickly rips his shirt off the rest of the way.

You reach for him instantly; drawing your hands from his strong chest through the ripples of his abs, following the deep indentations of his v-lines to his leather belt. You suck off his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to pinch; making Billy moan before shoving you against the wall.

Billy’s rough hands follow the zipper between your breasts, drawing it down slowly; savoring each new inch of bare skin, until your little dress falls to the floor. "Such a whore f’me," Billy chuckles, looking at you lustfully as you stand in front of him in nothing but red lingerie.

“Not for you.”

“Bullshit… Who else would you wear this for? Tell me.” He’s right. Fucking asshole. Billy reaches behind your back; unclasping your bra with a single hand as the other grips the hair at the nape of your neck. He reaches down, tugging at your delicate lace panties; ripping them away.

"Fucking dick," you moan breathily as he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling lightly; moving to the other as he palms your curves.

"These fuckin' tits," he mumbles, drunkenly against your chest as he continues to play. The other hand reaches down, skimming up your inner thigh. A thick finger glides through your folds, toying with your entrance; your obvious excitement making him release a needy moan. “You say you hate me; but, this pussy says otherwise.” Billy slaps your cunt, making you fuss.

“Stop, Billy.”

“Just say the word, doll, and I’ll stop,” he taunts as you finger the button of his Levi’s, splaying the zipper. “You don’t even know what you want,” he murmurs.

“Shut the fuck up,” you groan as you snare his denim, pulling it and his boxers to his feet as you lower yourself to your knees.

You move back slightly as Billy foots closer, bullying you back to the wall. His eyes beg for you, as you lift his hard length to your plush lips.

"My girl looks so good on her knees. Fuck," he pants; throwing his head back as you swirl your wet tongue around his reddened tip, swiping the lick of precum leaking from his swollen head.

You wrap your lips around him as Billy reaches down, taking your head in his hands; sinking onto his cock as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. Billy grips your hair, pulling slightly causing you to moan and hum, as you start to bob back and forth.

You can feel his thick dick throb on your tongue; every ridge and vein, gliding in and out of your mouth. "S-Shit, baby," he pants; eyebrows knitting tightly.

You add your hands, following your mouth as you work. A slight twist causes Billy to moan; his stance shifting. Taking your tongue you stroke the underside of his shaft, making his thick thighs quiver.

"What would you do without my dick?” He grunts as you deep-throat his cock; gagging slightly. You feel tears roll down your cheeks, dripping off your chin.

Billy slams his hands against the wall, thrusting into you suddenly; moving you even closer to the wall as he uses your mouth to stroke his cock; your head pressed to the partition.

"I'm gonna cum, princess," he moans. You cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently; feeling as they tighten. "Ugh... Christ," Billy grunts; spilling his load deep into your throat. His eyes pinch shut, fluttering open slowly. "Holy fuck," he huffs.

You stand up, watching his beautiful, stupid fuckin’ face as he comes down from his high. He wastes no time taking you back into his arms, mouth meeting yours. "You hate me. Huh? You sure about that? You weren’t throatin’ my cock like you hated me," he mumbles between kisses.

“You treat me like shit. You’re a fuckin’ dick. You’re a liar. How could I not hate you, Billy?” You whisper against his lips. “You’re a disrespectful asshole and your only positive quality is your dick.”

He smiles against your lips; a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ve got a nice ass too.”

Billy pumps his dick a few times, kicking your foot to the side. You spread your legs as he guides himself to your warmth. You feel his fat cockhead swirl around your entrance; a tug as he starts to stretch you out before drawing out completely. "Fuck... You're soaked," he groans; thrusting himself in fully, taking your breath away. “Gettin’ all worked up over suckin’ my cock?”

"N-No," you stammer.

"Who’s the liar now?" He draws out, thrusting rougher; making you whimper as you feel him fill you to the brim. He wraps his arms around your ass picking you up; you fall deeper onto his shaft, crying in pleasure as he ruts roughly. Billy pumps into you quickly, fucking you out of your heels; landing on the floor below.

He draws you off the wall, walking you to the bed; kissing messily before laying you on your back. Billy mounts you again; gripping your thighs, pulling you to the edge.

He wraps your legs around his shoulders; taking his dick in his fist again. Billy runs his cock along the length of your soaked silk, gathering your arousal before pressing himself in nice and slow.

He rocks his length into you, playing with depths; watching your eyes roll back as he drags out. Your breasts bounce with each clap of your ass against his hips.

Taking your ankles in his hands he pulls them straight up in the air, using them as leverage to drive deeper. "Shit, Bills," you cry; feeling the pressure of his length and the tugging of the stretch.

"Bills?” He stammers as he watches you get closer and closer to the edge. “Using nicknames again I see. You giving in, baby? Or, are you just goin’ so dumb on my cock you can think straight?”

“Shut up.” SLAP. You smack him across the face again, making him growl in pleasure.

Billy reaches for your wrist, pinning it against Steve’s plush mattress; grabbing the other as well, lowering himself to your lips. “You gotta stop slappin’ me or I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again,” he groans.

Billy reaches his arms down, looping them around your body before tossing you higher on the mattress. He spreads your thighs widely, spitting on your clit before stuffing his cock back inside.

Billy’s body slaps against yours; his hand greeting your greedy cunt, rubbing small circles on your aching pearl. You close your walls tightly around him, causing Billy to throw his head back in pleasure.

"Whose pussy is this?” He moans, breathlessly.

Your eyes roll back in your head; lip bitten as you hold back the words he's longing to hear.

"Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He snarls as his large hand wraps around your throat, picking up the pace; an unrelenting tempo as you feel your pleasure near its peak.

“Fuck you,” you spit. His hold tightens, a smile spreading on his lips. You can feel your pulse under his hand as your eyes flutter shut. “Yours,” you whimper.

"Good fuckin’ girl… Want me to cum in this tight cunt? Make you cum?" He taunts.

"Yes. M’gonna - Fuck, Billy," you cry as your body flutters around his cock.

Billy moans your name as he floods you with his seed; panting through jagged breaths as he continues to work you through your climax.

Billy’s eyes shut heavily as he feels you relax around him. He wraps himself in you, nestling into the crook of your neck.

The two of you reach for a breath; hearts banging against each other. He draws back not soon after; his hooded eyes meet yours, that same smirk setting on his kiss-bitten lips.

"Still hate me?" He asks, breathlessly; scooping his sandy blonde bangs off his sweat-glistened forehead.

"Yes," you whisper; knowing full well that meant nothing now.

"M’sorry,” he rasps. You roll your eyes and look away; but, he grabs your face, guiding you right back in again. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Billy asks, his tone gentle and warm, contrasting everything leading up to the point.

"You can’t be serious?” You whisper. “Hell fucking no.” A little scowl tugs on his lips. “I wasn’t kidding, Billy. You’re not good for me. I can’t trust you.”

"That’s not true. M’good for you,” he pouts. "You love me. I know you do.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“C‘mon, princess,” he whispers against your neck as he draws his cock out nice and slow. His eyes fall between your thighs, watching your shared releases slip out of your entrance. He swirls his thick fingers, stuffing it back inside; toying with your cunt as his eyes plead with you to say ‘yes’.

“Fine.”

#billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove boyfriend #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove moodboard #dacre montgomery #boyfriend billy hargrove

[ronearoundblindly]

Ari- Baby is sick for the first time

Ari Levinson x best friend!reader (now fiancé)

New Parent Panic, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Warnings for protective!Ari, Ari not communicating, you doing the same, and then everyone gets their shit together and it's fluff. WC 2k *Off in the distance an ol' timey man pops up: "An argument, you say? You wrote an argument?? How different from your usual!!" Ha-ha. Yeah. We get it. Ro's the same hoe as last year... **I am not a mother. I know what would reasonably be categorized as zilch about babies. I have, however, seen this overwhelmed and guilty behavior from several of my peeps as they raise their youngins, so that's good enough for me. You're doing fine. I promise.

Sure, there was the rather severe diaper rash incident, and the time when nursing her turned your nipples into raw portals for a newly-discovered circle of hell, but nothing could have prepared you for this day.

Rachel was...meh this morning when Ari left for work. A little whiny, not sleeping well, but she's an infant; that's not new. Overall, she's actually been a very straight-forward baby.

And then you don't know what happened.

You napped very hard until noon (after only a moderately successful feeding) and by then Rach had a fever.

You called the nurses' hotline. You gave her the dose of baby meds. You're trying to keep her hydrated, at least, if she can't be happy right now. You just have to stay vigilant and wait it out.

But that's not easy.

She's crying and won't sleep, she'll barely eat, and you don't have a separate car. You only want to call Ari if it's to say "we need to take her to a doctor." You're not there yet.

So you do the shittiest feeling thing you can think of, the most painful thing, and you wait.

You don't sleep. You barely eat. You take Rachel's temperature like you are monitoring the possible meltdown of a nuclear reactor. One wiggle of a degree in the wrong direction, and that Bat Signal is going on.

I can do this, you tell yourself. I've wanted to be a mom for a long time, so I can do this.

Except you don't sleep and barely eat.

Ari arrives home precisely when he said he would, the exact number of minutes (after work shuts down for the day) that it takes to drive to the house, predictable, dependable, and utterly useless when he opens the door and asks "why is she crying?"

"Because she hates me," you blubber, holding her to your chest, arms cramped from cradling her for so many hours at this point.

"She need meds?"

Of course, I gave her the fucking meds.

"Hungry?"

No, asshole, I purposefully starved your fucking child for my own amusement.

"Calm down," Ari snips back. "I'm just trying to help."

Well then fucking help me!

By now, you likely look as if you're in a war zone: disheveled, manic, and possibly--definitely--hostile.

"Okay, okay, let me just take a piss and then I'll hold her."

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." You turn your back to him before grumbling, "not like I haven't had to hold it all afternoon..."

Ari's still-booted feet land heavily beside you again. "Then I'll take her now," he grits through clenched teeth, "and you can use the bathroom."

"No. I already have her."

"Fine. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

The way you lace the words with a sickly sweet melody has Ari spinning on a heel and staring at you through his long eyelashes, a tick in his jaw stopping him from saying something he might regret.

"Kid," he finally sighs, "just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

He runs a hand over his beard while he waits for your answer. A few seconds later, his hip juts out, arms akimbo, and he bites his bottom lip expectantly.

You just walk off toward your phone on the kitchen counter and call the nurse hotline back.

"I swear, woman," he mutters as you leave, but you're glad he can't hear you sniffle back a sob.

It should be reassuring that the nurse has no new advice for what to do. You're doing everything correctly. You're doing all you can. Don't worry. Keep checking her temp and giving her whatever fluids she'll take. That's all for now.

It doesn't feel like enough. It doesn't feel like all a mother can do.

Ari? Ari waltzes up to the fridge and cracks himself open a beer.

You don't even have words, only flaming hot vibes that will melt his face like a Spielberg movie--you have got to stop watching movie marathons during late-night breast-feeding--if you stare hard enough at his casual blue gaze.

"So," he begins, "you figure out what I gotta do?"

What had been steady whimpering from Rachel has amplified into wails that bring tears to both hers and your eyes.

They just fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them from your chin before they can fall onto your screaming child.

Ari's judging frown makes your stomach turn while he steps closer, bends at the knees, and takes his little girl in hand.

Less than a minute later, Rachel stops, and you just cannot fucking handle it. The only quiet moment you've had in six and a half hours he gets to enjoy moments after coming home.

That's not fair. Cure fucking cancer already, Levinson, and save us the goddamn grief!

The tears and the tired are choking you.

Ari tells you to go freshen up in the bathroom, but that is the most horribly wrong way to say anything to you, ever, in a moment like this.

You stomp out the front door, rip open the sliding back door of the SUV, and crawl onto the cab floor. Once the latch clicks behind you, face buried in the blanket kept on Rachel's car seat, you scream.

You whimper and you cry and you get your fucking time to be angry at all your feelings today because it's bullshit.

You didn't take your own temperature. You didn't get rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't take any medicine. All you keep going over in your mind is whether or not you were sick first. Did you have something you gave to your daughter? Is this your fault?

So the tears and the choking continue for...as long as they take.

You don't know how much time has passed before the car door is yanked open again. Thank the stars you are facing away. You can't look at Ari right now.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

His big, warm hand rubs across your back, making you sink further into the upholstery.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

Ari likes to call Rachel a part of his 'squad,' so he talks to your infant daughter like they're going on 'missions' to the store or getting a bottle from the 'mess.' Your bedroom has thus become the 'barracks.'

Sometimes, he holds her sitting up against his chest and uses her feet to 'march' the pair of them across the house.

Left. Left. Left right left.

And almost always, there's a giggle, too.

"Up you go, kid," Ari huffs, maneuvering you into his arms.

"No," you whine, so tired you can't tell what it is you don't want.

He just keeps saying, "I know. I know," until he's carried you inside.

Instead of taking you to the couch or the bed, Ari sits you both down in the front hall, balancing you on his lap while he loosens his boot laces and finally kicks the sturdy shoes off, placing them on the mat a couple feet away.

He presses his lips to your temple, rough beard gently scrubbing over your eyelid and cheek.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. He doesn't expect to have this same argument again, not like this, but his point still stands. "You know, you're warm, too."

If it's another question, you don't answer that either. You change the subject.

"Did you take her temp?"

He nods, and the number he tells you is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, or rather, thirty minutes before he came home.

Ari squeezes you tighter. "You want to get into bed, and I'll bring your some juice and meds, huh? Meet you in there?"

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He pulls away, smacking his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

How are there more tears left in your body? You should be nothing but a shriveled husk at this rate.

"Bullshit," he practically seethes. "Don't you ever say that again."

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop."

"--you were--"

"Stop it," he blurts, firm and serious.

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!" Your most powerful voice only comes out as high whisper. "Me. I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done, and I thought I could just--" you swing an arm out dramatically "--and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

"No, kid. She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause your comfy and you smell good--"

"--not sure about that--"

"--and she loves you," you bemoan.

Ari snorts out a laugh.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, soothing you with petting hands wherever he can reach. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

He finds your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it, spinning it gently on your finger. He hasn't gotten to make good on his promise. Planning a wedding, even a small one, with a newborn is almost impossible, but that seems to be part of the problem.

Anything to do with you or you two feels selfish when there's three. Guilt grips you when you stop to daydream about your big day because it's not about Rachel. She's the most important thing. She will trump you forever as the single most--

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari's timbre rattles close to your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat.

"Almost not fair, really," he drawls. "You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile, the salt from dried tears on your lips flooding your mouth.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" Ari scuttles on the floor to evade your attack on his ribs. "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He easily grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

There's a different lump of emotion lodged deep in your chest. You only nod because you can't speak.

He makes your foreheads meet.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

That's when you realize what bothers you so much: Ari should need you to raise Rachel, but you never truly acknowledged you might need him to raise her, too.

This enormous weight of clutching every thread of life in your own two hands isn't real. You can share. You are meant to share your life with Ari. Ari is meant to share his life with you. Rachel shares life with you both, as she is meant to share with everyone around her. It's a lesson she has the opportunity to learn a lot younger than you, apparently.

He gets you to drink a whole bottle of water. He brings you some food and medicine while he handles some laundry and cleans out the day's bottles. He leads you with both hands to the bathroom, finally, and then gets you settled in bed.

As you fall asleep, you watch Ari take Rach's temperature again.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand over her.

"High five?" he whispers. "No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

The last thing you see is Ari playfully lifting her from the basinet, sneaking out to the living room to enjoy a movie marathon, just for a little bit, snuggling together while he winds down for the night.

All that matters is she's safe and happy.

That, and of course, waking up in Ari's arms, listening to his slow breathing and Rachel's faster, baby huffs. You can handle anything because you made it through today and you have them.

[Ari's POV for this day]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @yenzys-lucky-charm

#bedrock and blueprints #ro answers #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fluff

[indigosunsetao3]

A Bouquet of Oleander

Submission for for @glitterypirateduck‘s ‘Amor a Alejandro Challenge’ challenge.

Title: A Bouquet of Oleander

Pairing: Alejandro X Reader

Warning: Canon typical violence. Fluff? Protective Alejandro (that is a warning in itself he doesn't play).

Summary: Alejandro has been away without word for two weeks when suddenly a threat appears at home. (This is my first Alejandro story, trying to mix up my usual writing.)

Prompts: "Why haven't you been answering your phone?" & "Do you trust me?"

Word Count: 2k

Two weeks. Ale had been gone for two weeks this time and you were growing restless. He promised that he wouldn’t be out of contact for long, that he’d check in because he knew how the silence affected you. But there hadn’t been a word from him or Rudy for that matter. Rudy always managed to step in when Alejandro was tied up to let you know he was safe and alive but even that small sliver of communication had remained quiet. Being up in the mountains also did not help with the sense of isolation and seemed to only press on your mind just how alone you were.

Alejandro had wanted a place that was out of the way. Far enough away from the violence and chaos that was the city he grew up in to keep you safe. Yet still close enough for him to keep an eye on and be available to help reign in when things grew out of hand. So that was how you found yourself in the modest home that was built on top of a small hill that overlooked the ocean on one side and the city far below on the other. The closest neighbor was a ten-minute walk and while she would bring by fresh eggs from their coup in exchange for some herbs you grew, or just come to talk over coffee every few days, you were completely alone in the house.

Another sigh you lean back on your heels and wipe the back of your hand across your forehead smearing dirt in a messy line. You had decided to start yet another garden, this time tiered down a small slope that faced the water, to grow some more flowers. Gardening had become a bit of an obsession for you, tending to the seedlings or small snips of shrubs until they were stable enough to put in the ground. The dining room had turned into a small nursey and some of the plants were more than past due to be planted.

Ale had told you to wait, that he’d dig it out and arrange everything for the latest design you had sketched out when he got back. But he wasn’t home and the plants were ready so that meant digging the trenches and lugging the stones yourself. The neighbor had offered to send her nephew to help but you had waved her off saying you could use the exercise. In truth you knew you’d be too picky for the boy and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings when you went behind him to fix everything he did. So, with a sigh, you head to the garage to pick through the paving stones for the retaining wall.

 Just as you were about to start tossing the stones into the wheelbarrow you hear the telltale sound of a motor approaching. A hint of apprehension slides down your spine as you peer toward the road, the vehicle not visible yet between the trees. Alejandro had warned you about what to do if someone unfamiliar showed up, about the danger of strangers in Las Almas. How you were to never let on you knew who he was, or even interact at all if you could avoid it. So, dropping the stone back down with a thud you rush over to hit the button to shut the garage door to avoid even being seen. There were no other houses this way so there was no reason for anyone to come this way unless the destination was your house.

The door shut in time as you stood in the garage and listened. The car was turning up the gravel driveway and barely slowing down and you edge back to the corner in the dark praying it was someone just lost. Or a door-to-door salesman that was really trying to fill their quota for the month. The door on the vehicle slams shut causing you to jump before you hear a set of footsteps approaching the front door in quick succession before jogging up the wooden steps. They pound on the front door once, twice, before a voice calls out, specifically for you. You recognize that voice.

Scrambling for the garage door button again, stumbling a bit in the dark, you hit it and wince at the mechanical whine of the metal door rising. The sun floods back into the garage and you dart out to stand in the driveway as Alejandro jogs down the steps himself to meet you halfway. The bags under his eyes tells you he is exhausted but the only thing you can read on his face now is alarm and panic.

“Ale?” You asked stunned as you take him in. His clothes are filthy, covered in dirt and grime and a worrying patch of dark red that looks like dried blood near his shoulder. “What are you doing here? What happened?” You had gone two weeks without word and now he was suddenly here standing before you looking as if he were dead on his feet.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” He asks as he crosses the few feet between you to pull you into a tight embrace. He doesn’t seem to care that you are a sweaty dirty mess, just as you don’t mind that it seems like he hadn’t showered in days. Just to feel him again after all these days worrying, wondering and frankly terrified alone with your thoughts, was blissful.

“What do you mean? I’ve had the phone on me this whole time. I hadn’t heard from you in so long,” you stammer as he pulls back to cup your face in his hands. He’s staring at you as if you were the very air he breathed, relief sliding over his face. “Ale what is going on?”

“I’ve been calling for the past three days corazón,” Alejandro answers after a moment, his eyes still roving over your face as if trying to convince himself that you were really there and everything was really fine. “Rodolfo tried as well with no answer. I thought something had happened,” he leans in and kisses your forehead, apparently not caring about the dirt smeared there and the sweat. “You can’t not answer my calls. I thought you were just mad at first because it had been so long…but then you still didn’t answer when Rudy,” he cuts off and tugs you tighter against him.

“No that can’t be right,” you manage as you cling to him, your mind racing. You had kept the wireless house phone on you wherever you went. Cell service was non-existent this far up in the mountains so a landline was the only option. It could be spotty sometimes, especially in the rainy season, but you had just talked to your mother a few days ago and it had been fine. You didn’t have many people that you called or called you so the phone not ringing in days wasn’t unusual. “I haven’t had a call from you,” you breathe out. “I thought something had happened to you, to Rudy,” you lean back and stare up at him as he turns a bit in your embrace to track the wires that ran from the house to the pole at the end of the drive to the road.

“Go inside,” Ale states after a moment and you can feel his body had become tense under your touch. You know that voice, that tone and shift in his body. He senses something is wrong, some unperceived threat is lurking and despite the muggy heat a chill washes over you.

“Ale what is going on?” You ask a bit quietly as he gently extracts your arms from him and he reaches for his pistol at his side.

“I will be right in. Just go inside,” Alejandro says as he moves to walk to the end of the drive. His eyes are still tracking the wires that run from the utility pole and his gun is resting gently by his leg in his hand as he walks.

Not needing to be told again you walk inside but continue to watch him as he gets to the end of the drive and peers up the pole, then looks down the street. He isn’t out there for long before he jogs back up the drive and bounds into the house, slipping his pistol back in the holster though the safety was still flipped off.

“Someone’s cut the line,” he says quietly as he goes to the phone and picks it up to find a dead signal. “Has anyone been here?”

“What? No. I mean the neighbor and her nephew,” you answer a bit rapidly trying to go over everything that had happened in the past two weeks. There isn’t much to be honest.

“Nephew?” Alejandro presses. “Who?” His eyes are looking back out at the street again as if waiting for an enemy to pop out from behind your butterfly garden and attack.

“I don’t remember his name, he offered to help me with the garden,” you start and nearly flinch at the look Alejandro cuts at you. He had warned you about strangers and this nephew was a stranger, even if he was related to the nice elderly lady down the road. “I told him no. I didn’t need it,” you respond quickly, “he never came inside. Just walked his aunt up for us to have some coffee together.”

The realization hits you as you babble on about what seemed like an innocent exchange. He had come all this way to visit his aunt, just to walk her up the road and turn tail and leave. It seemed innocuous then but now you wonder if he had been casing out the area. Had been up to something and maybe even planned something sinister when he realized you were all alone up there. Or he was after Alejandro for that matter since you had mentioned your fiancé Ale was away on a business trip and the young man seemed interested in what he did for a living. The lie was architecture, since Alejandro had designed and built the house you both lived in, but the guy just smirked and nodded as if he knew something else. Again, in the moment it seemed like nothing but looking back now it seemed obvious.

“We need to leave,” Alejandro states as he looks back out the window again.

You don’t move. You just stare at him frozen in place. Something like this had never happened before, for all the complaining you did about being so alone you had never felt unsafe in your house. Unless you counted the saucer sized spiders that snuck in from time to time.

“Do you trust me?” Alejandro asks as he gently take your hand to which you nod fervently. “Then please go pack,” he continues as his other hand comes up to push away some loose hair from your face. “I’ll take you to a beach somewhere. Our own private little bungalow where you won’t even need a bathing suit to go swim,” he prods trying to get a smile on your face.

“But what about our home?” You ask, glancing to the dining room where all the pants are still sprawled out. “We can leave for a few days but they know where we are now,” fear coils in your stomach and panic that you would have to leave this house. One that Alejandro had help construct and had torn apart from top to bottom to fit your every whim and desire when he moved you in with him.

“I’ll need to find this nephew,” Alejandro answers simply, “and have a conversation with him.” At the look on your face he grins, “just a conversation, amor.”

You know from stories in the past that a conversation with Alejandro when his family was threatened usually ended up in bloodshed. Rudy had been witness to plenty and had even pulled Ale back when someone attempted to make a veiled threat against his sister and nieces. By the way Alejandro was staring out the window like a dog on the hunt you knew that this ‘nephew’ would be lucky to leave any sort of confrontation from Alejandro intact. And despite yourself you find yourself grinning at the thought of how fierce he was to keep you and those he loved safe.  

#Amor a Alejandro #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #my fic #cod mw2 #mw2

[treysimp]

i’m sick as a dog rn (i think it’s just a cold but it’s got me DOWN) and was wondering if you could do headcanons of either the second or third years taking care of a sick reader 😭

Aww! Me too lovely! Self-indulgence coming right up! 🛎🍳

Taking Care of You When You're Sick 🤧(GN!Reader/Octavinelle: Azul, Floyd, Jade)

Rating: G

Tags: Reader’s body not described nor are pronouns used, fluff, reader has a cold, Floyd says something suggestive but nothing actually happens haha, implied pining.

Words: 2k

Author’s notes: I ended up writing a short story rather than headcanons, whoops? Snipped it to just the Octotrio due to the length, haha. I just came down with a cold too, (as if just having recovered from surgery wasn't enough lol) so we can both project onto some cute fish boys to drown our sorrows together. 😖

Want more TWST? Here’s my masterlist!

Azul Ashengrotto:

He has no idea what to do (affectionate). Azul will notice your absence from daily activities fairly quickly. He had the schedules memorized of the more ah... let's call them 'notable' students, and that includes you. Grim had been attending classes, but if anyone asked him where you were he would just say something about him 'not being your babysitter'. This was technically correct because you were in fact, Grim's babysitter, but it wasn't worth the breath one would waste arguing with him.

By overhearing the conversation between some of your socially impaired first-year groupies, it appeared you were sick. This bothered him greatly. Humans were much more susceptible to disease than mermen and pathetic as it was, he felt a tinge of charity pull at his heart upon hearing that you were ill. He supposed that he could visit.

Armed with a ‘how to take care of a sick human’ article on his phone, a reusable bag, and a full wallet, he raided Sam’s shop for all of the things that are supposed to make even the frailest of humans feel better. He debated calling in Jade and Floyd for their assistance in taking care of you, but he decided the snide comments of the twins weren’t worth the possible benefits. If you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself after all. Armed with soup, tissues, multiple types of medicine, and hot and cold patches, Azul makes his way to Ramshackle.

He knocks, but no response. He supposed he should have guessed as much, it’s not like the ghosts would answer and Grim is doing whatever that fiery tanuki does on the daily.

“Prefect?” He called, pushing on the doorknob to find it unlocked. With a shrug he traipses inside, scanning around the lounge, the bathroom, and the kitchen. It was beaten to hell, but there was a charm to the small things you had littered around the place to make it feel like home. A tied rag potholder here, a stained apron there, he felt a small smile spread across his face. Cute. Terribly kitsch and with no sense of room appeal, but cute.

A floorboard creaked upstairs, and he figured that was where you might be. Azul headed up the stairs and softly called your name, hearing a loud ‘BWUH’ come behind a door that he assumed was yours. Knocking softly, he called out to you again.

“May I come in?” He asked, plastering on his proper salesman face. You so owed him for this display of goodwill.

“A-Azul? Uh, yeah.” You called, voice audibly hoarse and nasally.

Azul swept into your room and set down his bag of goods, sweeping over your room curiously for information. It was the cleanest room in the whole house, but that was like saying that you got second place out of three entries. There were your books and schoolwork, some knickknacks and souvenirs that your friends had undoubtedly given you, but it was otherwise quite bare. As to be expected, he supposed. After a moment of silence, his eyes finally fell on you. Your eyes were red and glassy, your lips chapped, and you were covered in goosebumps. He felt his heart skip a beat.

Wait, what…?

Azul slapped his hand to his chest instinctually, surprised at the sudden feeling that was washing over him. On the other hand, you looked at him with ever-increasing skepticism.

“How can I help you Azul?” You rasp, eyes flicking between his face and the bag that he had dropped on your floor. Azul looked a little flushed. Was it hot in here? Your fever was making it difficult to tell.

“I just ah…” Azul began, his pulse fluttering as he looked for a good explanation. “I just wanted to…”

Your brow was raised amusedly. How often did anyone get to see Azul of all people be at a loss for words?

“I just wanted to make sure that someone had thought to take care of you… since you’re alone here, and all.” He finished, the flush on his cheekbones darkening. He thought back to the times that his family had taken care of him when he was sick, and also the times that they hadn’t. The times that he was alone. And you, you were always that alone, weren’t you?

“Please allow me to help you… on the house.” He finished, eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“I see.” You say. You eye his bag, his expression, the way his hair was windswept in an uncharacteristic way, “Thank you, Azul.”

“You’re… very welcome.”

Floyd Leech:

He has no idea what to do (insult). Azul had returned from Ramshackle earlier that day in an uncharacteristically spacey mood, and he had a suspicion that it had something to do with you. Telling Jade that he was heading out, he walked to the decrepit building. Opening the door without knocking, he saw that one of Azul’s bags was on the table. Huh.

Rifling through the contents, he found supplies for human colds. Putting two and two together, his face curled into a smirk.

“Azul is making shrimp scampi, huh?” He giggled, cracking himself up with his joke. The soup was chicken noodle, but you had to work with the material you were given. Waltzing his way upstairs to your room, he slammed the door open, which woke you up with a start.

“W-what? Floyd?” You yelled, holding your blanket to your chest in surprise.

There was a slight sliver of skin exposed from the buttons of your pajama top had come loose. Floyd’s eyes flicked to your slipping collar and then back to your face, giggling while he strode forward, flopping to a seat next to you.

“Shrimpy, what is it about you, huh?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your face as his eyes scan for any microexpression that might give away your secret.

“You’re just so… different, aren’t you?” He asked, trailing a finger down the line between your ribs. You frowned and slapped his hand away.

“Floyd, I’m too tired for your weird teasing, okay? Get away, I don’t want to get you sick too.” You chide, trying to push him to his feet and off of your bed with your germy self.

Floyd clicked his tongue, “Aww, don’t be like that. Idiots don’t get colds you know? I’ll be fine.” He said with a grin, the low light sparkling off of his pointed teeth.

You frowned. You highly doubted that but you also knew so little about mermen that he might be right? Ugh, why was everything so confusing?

“Aww, your face is so cute.” Floyd cooed, squishing your cheeks like dough. “Should I sleep here with you? Will that make you feel better?” He asked, getting uncomfortably close again.

“Flowyed, stut upf.” You whined, words muffled by Floyd’s vice grip on your face.

“Fish are cold-blooded, you know? I’d be like an ice pack for your feverish ‘Lil head.” He continued, seemingly convincing himself more than you about why this was such a good idea.

“If you’re really good, we can snuggle naked?”

“FLOYD!”

“Fine, fine, you’re no fun,” Floyd sighed, finally standing up and walking towards your hall. He looked over his shoulder at you as he was closing the door, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“I’ll come to sleep with you when you’re well instead. Later!” He cackled, slamming the door shut to shield himself from the pillow you had tried to lob directly at your face.

Feeling even warmer than you had a minute ago, you collapsed in a huff and yelled into your pillow in frustration.

This freaking eel was going to kill you.

Jade Leech:

Something was apparently in the air today, because both Azul and Floyd had gone to visit the Ramshackle Prefect. Jade had to admit that he was quite fond of them, their naïveté about the world they had found themself in was quite entertaining to watch, especially as it pertained to non-humans such as himself. One day they had taken multiple hours to quiz him about merpeople, their food, their culture, and even their anatomy. Jade had offered a “demonstration” on the anatomy portion, but they had sadly refused his kindness. A pity.

Both Azul and his brother had returned with significant mood changes. Azul had returned in a strangely introspective mood, staring dazedly out the windows with his brows knit in thought and then locking himself in his office for the last few hours, clearly wrapped up in some sort of project.

On the other hand, while Floyd was similarly distracted, he seemed quite frustrated. He was being fairly active on campus, running around in search of stimulation. Jade recognized this as being one of Floyd’s many coping mechanisms when he was actively trying to distract himself. How very interesting.

Walking up to Ramshackle, Jade was distracted by the thought of how the gloomy and decrepit building could be well utilized as a greenhouse for some tricky plants he had hoped to cultivate. He filed away that thought for later, perhaps the Prefect would be willing to trade him some growing space in one of the spare rooms at a later date. He would just need to think of something that they wanted enough to give it to him. Well, he was here anyway, might as well try and find out.

Entering the charming hovel of the entryway, Jade notices the Prefect’s shoes discarded next to the doorway. He certainly did not trust the floor enough to do the same.

Walking up the stairs, Jade decided that the best bet would be simply to beeline to the Prefect. He had brought his mushroom risotto along with him, thinking that you might appreciate a home-cooked meal when you were ill. The feedback he had received upon serving it in the cafeteria was quite positive from the other humans, so he was about 70% sure this particular species of fungi was not lethal to your species. Well, the ones from here at least. That is what the other 30% is for.

Rapping his knuckles lightly on the door, he heard a quiet ‘come in’ from inside the room. Jade turned the knob and let himself inside, holding up the thermos with risotto in one hand and one with peppermint tea in another.

“I apologize for the intrusion.”

“Jade?” You ask, “Wow, I think I’ve had more visitors from Octinavelle today than when you all tried to steal this place.” You graveled, weak cough shaking your body as you laugh.

Jade gives you a warm, genuine smile. His face crumples into a melodic laugh, a real one, and he covers his face to stifle the sound.

“Well, the location is still quite ideal if you ever change your mind.” He says, stepping forward to place the food he brought on your nightstand. “Food and drink, I get the feeling that you might not make some otherwise.”

You look wide-eyed at the two containers, carefully picking them up and unscrewing the caps to see the contents. Through your stuffed-up nose you could smell a hint of mint, and the risotto looked decadently buttery.

You looked to Jade, and he motioned to the attached cutlery. Taking a wary bite, your mouth was met with something both delicious, hearty, and oddly familiar. Had you had this before? Your heart skipped a beat at how tender this moment felt. Jade’s eyes looked lidded and fond while tears threatened to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“I-I really needed this, I think.” You say, your ‘D’s sounded like ‘B’s due to your stuffy nose. “Thank you very much, Jade.”

Jade nods, looking pleased. You continue eating your fill and then allow Jade to gather his dishes, promising that he will come again soon with another dish. You were fairly excited at the prospect.

Jade pauses for a moment at the door, seemingly in thought. He returns to your side, but before you can question him, you feel a warm peck at your forehead.

“Feel better.”

Jade leaves as fast as he came in. You sit there flustered and confused.

Is this just a merman thing or what?

Pray for me! I hate phlegm with my entire body, I want to die and to kill at the same time. Why hast mine own body forsaken me?

What did you think? suggestions, feedback? LMK!

Love you, reader!

Requested Tags:

@certe-cose, @readinganas, @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @sideofblog, @buckketboy, @kxhyuns, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @destinationdesignation, @star-gods, @fragmentedstarlight, @sarahyumiko2, @sappyisyourpappy, @sunnyseaside, @bunntsu, @rebel-faes-writing, @stillserene, @witch-waycult, @fr0llo, @bluesylveon2, @dari-kun, @kit4kat256, @riddle-simp, @fightmecowardlmao, @lovelynai, @chillywinterbreeze, @venniin, @acherrytart, @naniky,

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #azul twst #jade leech #jade x reader #twst jade x reader #twst jade leech #floyd leech #floyd x reader #twst floyd #twst fanfic #twst reader insert #reader insert #gender neutral reader #one shot #twst fluff #twst fic #twst headcanons #twst imagines

[avocado-writing]

love drunk (tangerine’s path)

tangerine x f!reader tags: sex pollen; dub-con (bc sex pollen); love confessions; oral (f receiving); p in v sex

2k~ words

rated E minors dni

pt1

Tangerine shoves you out of the way, acting just fast enough to disarm the attacker by punching him in the gut with his knuckledusters. The machete skids across the floor but the man doesn’t stop. Instead he barrels into Tangerine and the two of them go crashing into one of the chemical setups behind them; there’s an almighty smashing of glass and the mystery powder is billowed up into the air. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing a disposable mask out of your back pocket and quickly pulling it on. You do not want whatever the fuck this stuff is getting inside of your lungs. You hear Lemon taking out the last couple of assailants as you rush to check Tangerine, putting a bullet in the skull of his attacker before he can get back up. 

“Tan, you alright?”

Tangerine seems… groggy. He blinks, slowly, as if the world is only just coming back into focus. His fancy suit is covered with whatever they’ve been making here - that’s a biohazard nightmare for sure. You pull Tan to his feet, careful to avoid making contact with the powder. 

“Yeah…” he mutters, dazed. You hear the sound of his brother approaching, and you and Lemon look at each other.  

“This ain’t good,” you surmise, looking at the way Tangerine sways on his feet. Lemon sucks breath in through his teeth. 

“Get him home. I’ll finish up.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“You sure?” ‘Finishing up’ means spilling gasoline and torching the place. Though, judging by the relative newness of the operation, doesn’t seem like any backup will be coming soon. 

“Yeah. Look at him, he’s off his face,” Lemon states. This is true. With a sigh, you turn to Tangerine. 

“Come on, sunshine, let's get you out of here.”

Tangerine would usually snip back about you babying him, and the fact he doesn’t means this thing is bad. He just wanders behind you, pliant, unaffected by the cold London air outside. When you open the side door for him, he simply… sits down without complaint. 

This is most unlike him. 

You’re kissing the wrong side of the speed limit as you drive him back home, occasionally glancing over to see how your passenger fares. A light sheen of sweat has broken out on his skin and he’s getting flushed. By the time you pull into his driveway, you can hear how loud he’s breathing. 

“Tan?”

“Mm,” he replies. You reach over to place the back of your hand on his forehead and check for a fever, and he slaps you away hard. 

“Ow! What the fu-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

He practically spits it out, and you’re taken aback. Tan doesn’t talk to you like that. Not seriously. Sometimes there’s a bit of banter between the two of you, but never real venom. 

You look at him for a long moment, studying his face, his body, down to his lap —

Oh. 

Oh. You see the cause for the panic. 

Tangerine has the biggest hard-on you’ve ever seen. 

He’s straining against the fabric of his trousers, his hips twitching minutely, as if he doesn’t realise it. You meet the blown pupils of his blue eyes. 

“Tan - ”

But by then he seems to come to terms with the fact he just snapped at you, and more than that he’s sitting in your car while fully fucking erect, and he looks guilty for a fraction of a second before seeming to lose himself again. He doesn’t say anything but leaves the car and stumbles down his front garden path, where he manages to unlock his front door and disappear into his house. 

He leaves it ajar, which you take as an invitation to follow. You’re not going to leave him here like this. He could need medical attention, so it’s probably best to keep an eye. 

Although it seems what this drug was… was some sort of fucking aphrodisiac. 

You send Lemon a text confirming you’re staying with his brother, and get one back telling you that he’s about to start the blaze. With everything seemingly alright on his end you follow Tangerine. 

You hear the door you know to be his bedroom one slam above you. Carefully you shut the entrance behind you before walking over to his kitchen and grabbing a cold glass of water. 

Ascending the stairs you can’t help but feel trouble is on the horizon. 

“Tan?” You knock on his door, and hear a moan from behind it. You furrow your brow. 

“Alright, look, I’m coming in - ”

Too late do you hear the cry of, “no, don’t!” and you’re met with… quite a sight. 

Tan’s thrown off his shirt and waistcoat, his bare chest sweaty and heaving. He’s beautiful. His trousers and boxers are halfway down his legs and he has his cock in his hand, ruddy red and leaking from the tip. Again that look of guilt crosses his face, but it doesn’t stop him from working his shaft again in one long stroke. 

“Tan…” it feels like your throat has gone dry. You find the strength to out the water down before you drop it. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he manages, torn between touching himself and the shame of having you see it, “that drug… it did something to me…”

“Yeah, I can see that, love.”

“Don’t call me ‘love’,” he practically moans, his hips undulating gorgeously against his hand. “Sorry - fuck - look, just… just get out of here, you don’t need to see this...”

But you don’t get out of there. Instead you take a tentative step towards him. He eyes you warily, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I could… help,” you state, simply. Your eyes inadvertently drop to his lovely cock again and you lick your lips. “It looks like you’re suffering and I could offer some relief.”

“I…” Tan is torn. He’s clearly desperate to say yes, but seems worried about taking advantage of your kindness. But hey, you’re the one offering. 

“I mean, what are friends for, right?”

Tangerine groans, and steps forward to embrace you. 

You don’t expect the kiss. It’s messy and needy, his mouth open as he slides his tongue against your own. You hum at the taste of it, revelling in how hot and eager he is. It's always wonderful to have an enthusiastic participant in a kiss. You trace your fingers down his rock-hard ab muscles, grinning beneath his lips as he makes a little noise of happiness. Your touch meets his pelvis, then his cock -

And he comes all over himself. 

You’re so surprised you break the kiss to look down. Tangerine keels against you as thick spurts jet out the top of his head, covering the both of you. He remains heavy and hard in your palm. 

“You…”

“I’m not done,” he groans. You nod. Okay, yeah, understandable. This drug seems pretty wild. You let your head fall forward onto his shoulder as you continue your strokes, long languid movements to caress him. You don’t want to admit it but you’re enjoying hearing the little sounds Tangerine is breathing out into your ear. The way he rocks his hips to greet you is sweet, he seems to be restraining himself… but you really don’t mind if he’s a little rough.  

You feel the warm plain of his hand come to rest over your pelvis. 

“Fuck, ah, can I… can I touch you?”

Your breath hitches. 

“Yeah.”

He works at the buttons of your trousers, his work shaky from overstimulation, but his hand finds you wet. He groans lowly as he presses two fingers against your cunt, gathering the slick that’s formed there. 

“Fuck, you’re…”

“I know.”

He huffs out something that, despite everything, seems to be a laugh; and slips two fingers inside of you. You gasp at the easy intrusion and it turns into a moan when he crooks them against that sweet spot inside. 

“Do you like that, darling?” he growls out, “You look fucking gorgeous on my fingers.”

His voice is gravelly but he still manages to be so filthy. He pulls his hand back, and for a moment you’re disappointed, but it's only so he can suck the flavour of you from himself. His eyes roll back as his tongue slides lazily around his knuckles. 

“Christ. Please, let me eat your pussy. I need to know how you taste. Properly,” he chokes. His pupils, impossibly, widen further. His breathing is so heavy his nostrils flare. There’s something predatory about it, yet so vulnerable. 

You sit down on his bed and only manage to kick one trouser leg off before he gets on his knees before you, planting his face into your core. 

“Oh, fuck - !” 

He uses so much force it pushes you up the mattress, only stopping when his body hits the side of the bedframe. His mouth covers your dripping cunt and he licks a solid stripe up you, feasting on what you offer him. He moans as if you’re trying to drive him mad. 

“Perfect little cunt,” he mutters. Each hand comes down to clamp over your thighs and keep them apart - not that you were attempting to close them. His fingers press so hard you see divots on your skin. When he sucks on your clit you release on his tongue, and he keeps fucking you through it as he slides his cock up between the bedsheets and his stomach; coming in spurts for a second time over his stomach. You reach forward, blindly, tangling your hand in his already wild chestnut locks. 

“Oh god Tan,” you choke, “this was - ah! - this was meant to be for you.”

“Don’t care,” he replies between kisses, caressing your cunt with his attentive mouth, “fuck, I’ve wanted this for ages. I’ve been in love with you since Moscow.”

Oh. That changes things a bit. 

You use your purchase in his hair to yank his head back a bit. He looks annoyed, of all things. 

“But… Moscow was two years ago, Tan.”

He nods. There’s a sincerity on his face you’re not used to seeing, and you’re unsure if it’s aided or not by your wetness in his mustache. 

“I know. I’m sorry. Fuck, please, I feel like I’m on fire, let me fuck you properly.”

All you can do is nod, fuck-drunk. Tangerine grabs his cum-coated cock, rubs it against you a couple of times and pushes home. You both groan, delighted. He doubles his grip on your legs, sliding it up to your knees to make you allow room for his body to slot against yours, and he begins to pound into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I love you, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry - ”

“Tan - oh shit - ” his cock hit your g-spot there - “Tan, you don’t need to be sorry. I love you too.”

He pauses for a second, before rocking his hips into you hard, sheathing himself up to the hilt. 

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah. So stop apologising.”

It’s something you’ve been fighting with for ages but well, it’s true. He’s perfect. He’s a hothead and a bastard and he’s got a mouth like a sailor but… yeah. At some point along the road you fell in love with him right back. 

Tan smiles, a real genuine smile, before he reaches down to kiss you along with his next thrust. This kiss isn’t as urgent as the one before. It’s real and passionate and true. You taste yourself on his tongue and sigh as he reaches up to caress your face, a calloused thumb stroking your cheek. 

“I love you,” he sighs, a couple more erratic thrusts making him come for the third time in quick succession. At last you feel his cock start to soften. 

“I love you too,” you reply, as fatigue begins to take over. Tangerine has the good grace to roll over before he collapses, meaning he doesn’t land on top of you. You can see the way his body shakes from exertion but it seems, at least, the drug has worn off. 

You grab the glass of water which you originally brought up for him and get him to drink. Now he’s back to himself he grunts a bit at being coddled, but obliges when you fix him with a look. His hand comes to rest on your hip and he holds you tight. 

You’ll have to do jobs like these more often, you think, as you settle into Tangerine’s side. 

tags from master taglist: @honestlywtfisgoingon​ @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​​ @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty​​ @apieceoffabulousshit @4ng3l-0n-34rth @minjaz @starl1g4t @earth-elemental18 @luhvbot @underratedboogeyman @july-is-summer @vocalvixen20cp @northerngalxy @tangerinesgf @chaoticroaddreamerpastaerpasta @rxcently @skrrten @nightmarefeast @lost-lila @hardcore-flower @kalli0pe @insanitia  @tvngerinescoat @assmaster37 @zuzusoosoo @oldyellowbricks2 @cockete @spidervee

#tangerine x reader #fic: love drunk

[a-l0v1ng-str4ng3r]

Special Cuddles with Friend!!

TW: NSFW, slight teasing, mentions of cock warming, sex, heavily implied sexual content.

If you are uncomfortable with any of these things then you are welcome to leave for those who enjoy things like this, I hope you enjoy your next read!

2k+ Words

You were now currently sitting in between Friends legs. He was busy working on another stuffed animal that was requested from him. He played some relaxing music on his phone engulfing your senses with an overall calm environment. You laid your head back looking up to him. His eyes focused on the piece in front of him. 

Noticing your slight movement he looked down to you, meeting your e/c eyes with his grey ones. He smirks slightly, moving the baby pink fabric out the way, sticking the needle in what seemed to be the head of the bunny. 

"What? I mean I know I'm hot but, you know, you don't have to look at me every thirty seconds~" He teased. You are frustrated from his snarky little comment, you puff and look back down.

"Psshhh you wish!" You snip back. You puff again and get up using your hand to push you off the ground and into a standing position.

"Nooo sweetheart! I was joking!" He laughs at your flustered state. An idea pops into his head.

"Don't leave!" he tosses the partially made plush onto the couch and snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. You shrek in surprise. Meeting with his wide grin and chuckles. 

"Mine." He speaks into your neck. His hot breath meeting your skin makes small goosebumps on your legs. His blonde hair tickles you. Your breath hics as you tense up from his actions. 

He pauses a little. Maybe even hesitant."You do know that you're mine right?" you feel the movements of his lip as he patiently waits for your response. His hand tracing up under your shirt. Your hands move on their own as your mind blanks out.

You hold his hands not wanting them to wander any farther. "I don't belong to anyone but myself." You snark poking at him. 

He smirks against your skin as you move up to your ear whispering, "That's not what you said last night~" You become more flustered, your face turning practically 50 shades of red. Your hands squeeze his. 

"T-that's different!" You muster enough courage to say. Hoping and praying that he didn't catch on to your stuttering, flushed state. But being your long term friend of course he noticed.

"You're so cute when you're flustered you know? I could just eat you right up." He flirts cooing in your ear like honey dripping from his mouth. His voice was so smooth and milky. Excitement reached down to your core. With the position you were in, his voice, what he chose to say, and how close the two of you were, got you all the more heated. 

He moved the bunny from the couch and onto the coffee table as swiftly as he could before returning his hand to you. He could tell how heated you were. He hears your shaky hot breaths. He smirks at the thought of you thinking of him in that way. How he could make such a fucking mess out of you. 

"Someone seems to be excited~" He teased once more. His thumb running across your hand stroking circles upon circles.

"Fuck you." You groan. He giggles as he moves down his hand and yours down to your inner thigh stroking and rubbing against it teasingly. Your breath hics again at the sudden movement.  He begins to suck and even nibble a little at your neck leaving more bruises and bite-marks from the night before. 

You grip onto his other hand keeping it in place. Not wanting him to go any further than he already was. You moan softly as his mouth moves to one of the most sensitive parts of your neck. Sucking and biting pleasure and even a little bit of pain washing over you. 

"You're so cute when you moan like that." He grunts, keeping you on your toes with anticipation as his hand on your thigh slowly moves up towards your growing heat. You gasp as his hand finally meets your part. His smile deepens as he feels the slightly damp area. 

Softly and slowly in an almost teasing manner he strokes and rubs against your sensitive spot. You whine at his actions bucking your hips slightly forward wanting more friction against you. Moving up and down against your private area. You hold back most of your moans covering them with hot breaths and hics.

You start to feel his erection lumping into your lower region. Whimpering with a little desperation as you wanted to make him go faster. But knowing him; he was going to take his time with you. Up until the very end. 

"What's wrong dear? What do you want me to do?" he stops the warmth of the friction he creating coming to a halt.

"Hmmmnnn..Go. faster" You breath in between your words trying to collect as much composure as possible. You head leans back on his shoulder. 

"Please" You plead with the man. But before you could say or do anything else he flips you on to your back the couch cushions comforting the instant motion. 

He smirks. "Only because you said please" He chuckles as he begins to massage your heated area again faster creating more friction that before. You gasp again you hand balling into a fist. You moan and whimper underneath him, his eyes almost into the shape of hearts as he listens and takes in all of your lustful actions, almost committing it into his memory. 

After a little bit of time the friction he created started to build up as a coil inside of you. By now your underwear had been removed and he was now rubbing his hand against you in all the right ways. You begin to buck your hips against his hand creating more of a chafing feeling but in the most pleasuring way possible.

You begin to moan out his name causing butterflies to fly in his stomach and his erection to get harder. He loves when you call out his name, especially when you use it as a mantra. He's heard you before calling out his name when you were once asleep probably thinking of something so dirty and naughty. It got him so hard to the point it hurt to touch.

He rubs harder on your spot going at a much faster pace wanting you to catch your high before doing anything else. You grip onto his primary colored shirt as your head knocks against the cushion and your back begins to arch. 

Countless amounts of "Mhmmm" and "Ohhhh Frienddd~" spew out of your mouth. He smirked as he realised his other hand was finally free. It lifts up to your cheek as he strokes it softly loving your vulnerable state. 

Once you finally hit your high you moan loudly, your hand clenching onto his shirt for support. He smiles softly, his bulge twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He helps you come off your high as he looks down at the beautiful sight before him. The rouge of your cheeks from the stimulation you had just experienced. 

Your hair is a little bit of a mess but he didn’t mind. What he loved the most was that you were still in one of his hoodies claiming you. The marks all along your neck and collarbones also showed off that you belonged to somebody. And that somebody was him.

“I can’t believe you’re all for me~” He smirked as he went down to kiss you passionately. Even though you were slightly tired, the two of you fought for dominance as his and your tongue danced around one another. Friend, deciding to play dirty, reaches down to your now overly sensitive and flicks at it with one of his fingers. Even though the gesture was small it made you lose against him.

“H-hey that’s not fair!” You whine. Glaring up to meet his goof-like gaze. 

“What? Can’t handle your loss? You sore loser~” He teases. His hand which was helping him stay up was knocked over by you as you topple yourself atop him. Leaving him a little shocked. He wasn’t expecting you to muster up so much courage to do something like that.

You kiss him again with just as much lust and passion from before but this time with more confidence. As you sit atop of him you feel the bump underneath you twitch and jerk from your heated core.

He groans as his eyes shut as you begin to grind yourself against him still kissing him. You start to take off his belt as quickly as you could trying to get the man just as bare as you were. Once his pants and boxers were off you stared at his length. He was probably just as big as he was last night but actually seeing it from this angle you wondered how he actually got the thing inside you.

He smirked seeing your reaction, his playful side still staying intact. 

“What? You don’t need to be shy~” he teases once more. You place your hand around his cock giving it a few pumps. He watches as you do this. Watching you dominate him made his mind and heart race. Almost a competition to see which one could think and pump faster. His mind fogged a little but he kept his eyes open desperately trying to focus on you. 

Once you got his dick all nice and wet which was quite easy with the amount of pre-cum that he had already produced. Which in all honesty surprised you a little. Not that you minded just seeing how riled up he can get over you made you surprised. But right now you shouldn’t be thinking about that. Right now you need to focus on getting this big dick inside of you.

You lifted yourself right above his cock and stayed there teasing him for a second. Your entrance to your hole is slightly resting around his big tip. You look down at him. His eyes intent on you looking up and down your body before returning to your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks in one of the most pitiful voices you’ve ever heard from him.

“Are you okay with this?” You ask barely above a whisper. He nods his head eagerly.

“As Long as you're okay with it.” He groans his hand resting at your waist as he moves you downward onto him. You moan loudly not expecting his motion. You look down at him surprised to see eyes bound on you with him biting his lip watching you as you go down on him. 

It only takes you a few seconds to get up and slam yourself right back down on him. He groans his head going back as he shut his eyes from the immense amount of pleasure. He loves how your gummy walls feel around him. He could just bask in it for a couple of hours if you’d let him. “Fuck sweets” He growls. His grip on your hips tightens slightly but not by much. You lean on top of his chest. He looks up at you feeling your warmth laying on his chest. You smirk deviously as your legs and ass begin their work. You bounce yourself up and down on this man's cock. He gasps slightly and groans as he bites his lip, his eyes rolling back. 

You breathe so heavily and moan so gracefully so perfectly. You were so perfect for him. At all possible moments even the ones like these where you start to turn into a mess for him; He couldn’t help but admire you. Your Beauty, the way you move your body to please him like this. 

He loved seeing you on top of him like this, a blushing, cocky, and slightly chaotic mess for him. You got faster with your pacing as your sensitive spot began to rub against him. The slight overstimulation starts to eat away at you. You moan. LOUD. You grip onto his primary colored shirt. “Just like that my dear, you’re doing so well hah” He panted in your ear praising you for how far you’ve gotten. Bucking your hips up and down was extremely tiring but this was so worth it. Seeing him enjoying it more or just as much as you got you even closer. The heartbeat of his and yours begin to sink along with both of your moans and whimpers. He could feel himself and you getting close. The twitching of his dick, the gummy walls of your closing in on him. He loves the euphoric feel of everything. Of you looking at him with love, lust and excitement. 

You press your head down on him as you cum on him, your glutinous cum practically spewing all over him. As you help yourself come off of your high he cums filling your walls with the drippy white sap of his seed. Now both of you coming off your peaks he cuddles you close keeping within the closure of your walls. His arms trace up and down your back. 

“Do you want anything like water or something?” he questions really hoping against it because it meant leaving you alone. Lucky for him you shake your head. 

“No. All I want right now is you.” You cuddle closer to him, your legs relaxing. He smiles as he kisses your forehead. 

“I love you; I’ll see you when you wake up” And with that you fall into a dark void loving the sweet cuddle times that you shared with your boyfriend who you knew would stay with you forever and ever. Until and after the end of time.

The characters used in this do not belong to me the belong to https://www.tumblr.com/stnaf-vn <- this wonderful person (P.S. go follow them! Bro like really cool would recommend like 100/10)

#friend stnaf #mdni #18+ #smut #friend is SO FUCKING HOT HSINOWHJ #stnafgame #stnafscenarios #see thru need a friend #mmmmm yummy #BRO THE WAY I WOULD BEAR HIS CHILDREN LMAO #yandere visual novel #yandere boyfriend

[yellowjackets101]

Reverence- Natalie Scatorccio x reader

Part 1

Word count- around 2K

Warnings- NO SMUT (YET), maturating (brief), reader is an ass and slightly insane, fantasies, typical yellowjackets shit

You and Natalie were very different. You lived in a Mansion she lived in a trailer. You had more money than you could possibly need Natalie had so little money she couldn’t always afford food. You started playing soccer because it would look good on future college applications because face it you needed all the help you could get, Natalie played soccer as an escape from her shitty home life.

You were always spoilt from the day you were born you got everything you wanted so when you were 6 and some girl refused to share her toys with you because it was “the only one she had” you cut her hair. Snipped her ponytail off with a pair of scissors as your best friend mari giggled. The girl cried but nothing was ever done and the next day when she came into school with a bob cut and you laughed she knew that one day she would make you pay.

This type of bullying continued throughout school all until freshman year of high school when you both tried out for soccer team. Lots of things had changed over the summer you had a new look to match your attitude sporting designer clothes and bags and a body that made people drool. Nat had grown up to and as much as your hated to admit it she was hit her new look was still the least drastic change though which you realized when you walked into the changing rooms after you shower.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shouted storming over to where Natalie sat smoking her cigarette letting the ash fall onto your hundred dollar jumper “smoking maybe you should try it calm you down abit” Nat quipped leaving you silent for a minute. Natalie had always been quite no matter what you did she only had two responses complete silence or tears but here she was smirking up at you as she continued to smoke her cigarette “that jumper costs more than everything you own put together get you greasy ass away from it” you shouted pointing your finger at nat as she stood up. “Fine whatever you say princess” Nat smirked taking a drag of her cigarette before blowing the smoke into your face and dropping the cigarette onto your jumper walking away as you screamed profanities after her. The next day you told the whole school nat was sleeping with Randy Walsh and when Randy didn’t deny it it became a fact and Nat went back to being her quite self as you teased her. Until a few days later

This became the cycle you make fun of Nat she snaps you do something horrid and she goes back to her quite self. Over the years you humiliated nat over and over whether it was deliberately fouling her at practice, hijacking her class presentations to include inappropriate pictures that almost got her expelled or just simple name calling.

Natalie hated you with all her being she hated you. You were the one who started all the rumors the one responsible for her being branded with the label of slut when she really wasn’t. Fuck Natalie had only ever been with one guy and it was after you had embarrassed her infront of the whole team her self confidence was lost and she tried to regain it through a pointless hookup with some stoner she met through her dealer and yet despite all the sweet praises it did nothing. Nothing could take away the pain you had caused except one thing. Natalie fantasized about it, she laid in bed at night fingers down her pants thinking about what she would do to you how she would choke you until you were unable to breath how she would show you no mercy as she pounded into you telling you everything she thought about you while you just begged for more.

That fantasy was how Natalie calmed herself down after you barged past her while getting onto Lottie’s dads jet knocking her to the ground as she looked up she got a good look at your pantries from under your tiny skirt. She looked away quickly and moved to her seat putting her headphones in and imagining how she would fuck you senseless all while you wore that pretty skirt.

Then the plane crashed

In the beginning you were in shock complete and utter shock misty took care of you bandaging up your neck. You had fallen while escaping the plane nearly impaling yourself on a metal pipe instead you sliced your neck open a large gaping wound that you couldn’t even feel due to your shock. You sat there with mari in silence for what felt like hours.

Natalie was glad. The plane had just crashed and her and her friends were stranded in the middle of nowhere and you left her alone she thanked the gods above for your closed mouth as she didn’t think she could deal with you in the middle of all this but her prayers were not answered.

A month or so after the crash you had still not seen your next. Misty changed your bandages in the meat shed away from everyone else. She had told you it had formed a scar but you didn’t want to believe it. Not until Misty told you you no longer needed the bandages you looked in the after taking them off and saw the big jagged scar that ran the from your jaw down your neck stoping just before it reached your breast. It was ugly big and red and you felt repulsed. You fell into a spiral of insecurity that you combated the only way you knew how. You wrapped a scarf that Lottie packed around your neck and never took it off all the while you began torturing Natalie. Lashing out over every minor thing the girl did. You knew you shouldn’t she was the one hunting your food and keeping you alive but you needed to do something to stop the deep pain you felt.

Time went by and your pain only grew mari became close with akilah a girl you barley new leaving you with no true friends except Laura lee but you knew that was only because the girl loves everyone well loved. Laura lees death hit you hard you struggled to accept that she was just gone and now you were completely alone. Lottie you noticed was feeling the same way so as a way of mutual preservation the two of you stuck together you replacing Laura lee as the person she spoke to about her visions and prophecy’s at first you thought she was crazy but you were lonely and scared and the idea of losing your only friend was enough for you to go along with what Lottie was saying but eventually you started to believe her after Laura lee you were the first person to whole heartedly believe Lottie was right that her visions were more than delusions and that she was special more than a human almost. When van tai Misty and mari went out looking for any sign of life on the island you sat with Lottie as she made a necklace for van and you one for mari.

When they came back you went into shock van had half of her face ripped off and the sight made you feel sick. You hid in the attic and sat alone until mari came walking upstairs looking equally as scared as you did. “She took it off” mark whispered so quite you could barley hear “what?” You asked leaning in “can she took off the necklace then she got eaten by a freacking wolf” mari said eyes wide as she looked at you “you saved me” she said holding her necklace in her hand “no Lottie did mari she’s not crazy she knows stuff she’s speaking to the wilderness” you said grabbing her hand and pulling her close “do you think she’s like some sort of witch” mari asked looking you dead in the eye “I don’t know what she is I just know that she’s something more”

Almost a week had passed since that night you mari and Lottie grew close you and mari beginning to worship the girl looking to her for guidance while Natalie scoffed and called the three of you “crazy” but every time you went fo say something Lottie would simply look at you and you would stop because if Lottie said jump you would say how high?. So when Lottie asked you to try talk to van you couldn’t say no. Lottie hadn’t seen your scar no one apart from misty had but they all knew it was there. You never spoke about it but the scarf gave you away.

At first van ignored you. The two of you were never close due to your attitude and her friendship with Natalie and she had no intention to change that you started to get frustrated. Lottie kept asking if you were making progress with van and when you said you weren’t she looked disappointed and to you there was nothing worse than letting Lottie down so one night while everyone else was asleep you woke van up by dragging her outside and while she shouted at you for “scaring the shit out of her” you pulled off your scarf and showed her your scar. Then you stepped forward and slowly began unwrapping the bandages around her face. The two of you spent hours crying into each others embrace after that. You fell into a ritual of wearing your coverings around the others but taking them off when it was just the two of u. Which was a lot more common as the two of you bonded over your love for movies. Natalie hated this.

When van took her mask off at doomcoming it was the happiest you had felt since the plane went down. Not only were you genuinely happy for your friend but you were also happy that you had done Lottie proud once again.

Time went on a and your neck remained covered. Things changed drastically after winter hit you started relying even more on Lottie doing everything she said without a second thought even if that meant eating your friend. When Shauna attacked Lottie you again fell into shock just watching as Shauna beat the life out of Lottie until she pulled away and you ran forward with misty. You stayed with Lottie nursing her back to health with misty and mari all while trying your best to survive yourself on the minimal food you were eating. When misty told the group of lotties idea. To kill one of the group to eat you immediately agreed Lottie had spoken and that meant you would listen no matter the outcome. So you chased Nat through the woods screaming with the others and you watched javi drown feeling no remorse whatsoever because it was what Lottie wanted. At least that’s what you had been told.

When Lottie finally came down from the attic and walked into the main room of the cabin you jumped up hugging her forcefully happy to see your Lottie was better. That was until you all sat down you next to Lottie as she stood looking around at everyone. Lottie gave her speach and announced that you needed a new leader. You sat up straighter you thought it was you. You who nursed Lottie back to health. You who believed her from the beginning. You who did everything she told you too because you believed. But it wasn’t it was fucking Natalie.

People started to rise walking over to Nat and placing kisses on her hand while you sat still in shock until you were the last one left. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you got up and walked over to Natalie reaching out to grab her hand when she pushed it away “kneel” she said forcefully her eyes trained on yours an emotionless look on her face and you did as you were told heat rushing to your cheeks as everyone watched on. You looked up at nat and reached out to once again grab her hand before she forcefully slapped you right across the face causing your head to whip to the side before she just walked away without saying a word. You stayed in that position as you heard taissa and Shauna giggle from there seats causing you to bolt up to the attic and shut the door.

The next few weeks were hell. Natalie completely ignored you at first she let everyone else worship her but you could not and you started to panic wondering what would happen to you if you didn’t show your allegiance to the wilderness. You once aired these worries to misty who being misty went straight to Natalie. From that moment on you never stopped. Natalie sent you on pointless tasks that were impossible to complete taking you all day only to return to no food and Natalie publicly shaming you for failing.

That’s how you ended up on your knees in Natalie’s private room she claimed after coach Ben ran off begging the girl to accept you.

“And why should I? Why should I give a piece of shit like you the chance to feel better about your pathetic life” Nat spat her hand griping your hair and pulling your head back

“Please Natalie I will do anything” you begged looking up at the girl

“Anything?”

#nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio smut #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets imagine #natalie scatorccio

[transsongtaewon]

do u have any gen sctir fic recs? ;0

I have tried my best for you, anon. While compiling these I realised I am maybe just a little into angst (so check the tags etc.). I'm only doing one fic per author so if you like any of these it may be worth checking their profile. Recs in no particular order:

cry aloud for your mistakes, but by fikatt, one-shot. Set during chapter 145 of the webnovel where Yoojin tries to cope with his dead brother and his living brother tries to help him. (1.1k words)

the ghost of you (will never leave me) by sorbus, one-shot. Yoojin has a skill that lets him exchange all memories of a person in return for a temporary buff. It goes about as well as you'd expect. (1.4k words)

Scorched Clothes and Wish Stones by kkomaism, one-shot. Yoohyun is just a little too late to save his brother but manages to get his hands on a wish stone. (970 words)

your shadows leaving by corvidaes, one-shot. Pre-regression Yoojin contemplating whether owning a winter coat is worth the consequences and also if he's, like, lovable and such. (2.2k words)

the mind remembers by armed_teddy_bear, one-shot. Yoojin feels pain from injuries he never had in this life which is deeply annoying a mildly concerning. (1.6k words)

Fics I've mentioned before:

This series is all unrelated gen sctir fics and they are all so good. If I have to pick one I would recommend try, try (just one more time) because it is finished and stw gets a smoothie thrown at him (I've mentioned this before.) It's an au where Yoojin's wish is slightly different and he gets stuck in a timeloop and it's bad for his mental health. Physical too, but that resets with the timeloop. (28k words)

snip snip by yersina is something I've also recommended before but in my defense I went a little insane over it when it was published. It's a one-shot about Yoojin working out his gender feelings by getting a hair cut and Yoohyun trying his best to be supportive of his sibling while being slightly awkward. Almost made me cry (in a good way). (1.3k words)

Also if you want something written by me, may I direct you toward Grown out of Bounds, a gender swap thing where time and change are shown through hair which has fluff in it! But watch out. (2k words)

If anyone else has a fic rec please tell me I also always need more!

#fic rec #sctir #the s ranks that i raised #the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #tsctir #I haven't kept up with the tag for the last little while because I was Unwell (no screens) and since then I've been procastinating #so no insanely recent recs but I think that's probably fine #I also didn't put anything with more than 1k kudos because I at least want to pretend I'm giving somewhat niche recs #also by the time I realised this would be almost exclusively one-shots I was already committed to my formatting #ask #anon #it speaks!

[appalachianapologies]

Soooo you were offering snippets from Case FIle: VL......?

yeah!! i'm a little over 4k words in right now, so if all goes well it should be up by this weekend :D

and here is the promised snip :)

Taking a few more steps into the classroom, Mac can’t help but run his fingers along the little lab counters. More scratches and graffiti than before, but otherwise the same. Once he reaches the end, his right hand comes up back to his shoulder in the familiar motion. “She’s your star student this year, isn’t she?”

Nodding, Mr. Erikson replies, “Reminds me of you. She’s wicked smart, and loves to tinker.”

Behind him, Jack frowns. “You stayed after school when you were here?”

“Of course. It was fun in here.”

“Fun in science class?” Jack asks no one in particular, even as the frown on his face holds steady.

Mr. Erikson wanders back to his desk, stretching out a leg, when he asks, “So what brought you here, Mac? And who’s that tank behind you?”

Smirking, Mac replies, “This is Jack. We work together.”

“Man, what the hell? I’ve been your- what did Riley call it? Bestie? Yeah! I’ve been your bestie for like half a decade and that’s all I get?”

#top 10 moments before disaster #i mean it follows the episode pretty well so we all know what's going to happen next #except i added a little ✨pizzaz✨ #and by pizazz i mean i had follow up from a freakin taser #in which vi actually writes #macgyver #macgyver 2016 #2k words in snips #ignore that tag i'm just used to 2k words in snips at this point #asks #rosieblogstuff #we love rosieblogstuff very much #mac and jack investigations

[helpwhatsthis]

band-aids and baby (C.C.)

Chrissy Cunningham x afab! Henderson! reader

part one: bruises and bambi

word count: 2k+ 

warnings: SMUT! blood, fights, violence, nipple piercings (lmk if you think i should add anything)

your eyes flutter, trying to reject the sunlight as you’re pulled from your sleep. what feels so fucking good? there’s a warmth enveloping your tit and moving your piercing around. oh! you gasp as chrissys’ teeth run over the bud. 

you pry your eyes open, instantly met with her blonde locks. you’re on your back while she straddles your abdomen. she’s got your shirt pushed up, bra pushed down as she practically mawls your chest. she takes your nipple between her teeth, applying the slightest bit of pressure. 

“fucking christ!” you moan, hips twitching on their own accord. your hands move to her waist and she moves her head up to look at you. she’s got spit on her lips, and she grins at you. 

“morning.” she hums, coming down to press a kiss to your lips. when she pulls back, you get your first good look at her. she’s in your tee from last night and her pink panties, which are leaking onto the bare skin of your belly. you can’t blame her though, you’re sure you’ve soaked through the boxers you wore to bed. 

“whatcha doing honey?” you ask, reaching up and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. she preens into your touch. 

“saying thank you-” she hums, bringing her fingers up to softly flick the bar in your other nipple. “for taking care of me last night.” you smile up at her before softly wrapping your hand around her neck. 

she whines at the action, making you smirk. you pull her by her neck down to kiss you. you bite her lip and squeeze her neck softly. 

“want me to do it again?” you whisper. she bucks her hips into you and whimpers. she kisses you again. just as you move the damp fabric aside, something smacks your window. she shrieks and grabs hold of you.

“let me in henderson! it's raining out here.” eddies’ voice yells from the other side of the glass. you sit up and she looks at you with a pout. you murmur a quick ‘sorry’ against her lips. 

“do i need to go?” she asks, pulling on your sweats again. she has a nervous look on her face and you shake your head. 

“nah, it’s just eddie.” you say in what you hope is a soothing manner, while fixing your clothes. 

you check to make sure she’s decent before pulling the makeshift curtain to the side. he’s glaring at you as you slide the glass up. 

“first, it’s not raining. it’s misting.” you correct. “and the sun is out, so i don’t think you were in any grave danger.” 

“what the fuck is all over your neck?” he asks, grabbing the ledge and pulling himself up. his eyes get wide and his mouth drops open when he sees chrissy sitting on your bed. you ignore his question. 

“and i have a front door, which may come as a shock to you. i would appreciate it if you'd use it though.” you snip at him as you throw yourself back onto your bed. 

“so you two uh-” he waves his finger between the two of you. she looks back at you bashfully as you sit up on your elbows and smirk at him. 

“jealous?” you tease, causing him to roll his eyes. “well, chrissy, this is eddie.” you wave towards him. 

“hi.” her bubbly voice fills your ears and you smile. she waves at him shyly. 

“hey.” he says awkwardly, voice cracking. “i’ve heard a lot about you.” he gets a wild grin as the words leave his mouth. 

“what?” she asks softly, turning to look at you. 

“ignore him.” you practically growl, glaring at him. 

“well, sorry to interrupt.” he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrow. “but, i got us a gig tonight.” his smile is wide, excitement behind his eyes. 

“no shit, really?” your jaw drops, excitement bubbling in your chest. 

“yep, big cabin party at lovers lake.” he says proudly. 

“you come from the wheelers?” you ask, pointing at his pajama bottoms. he rolls his eyes.

“yeah, mrs. wheeler wouldn’t let me eat until i came and got you.” he drones bitterly. “so c’mon, i’m starving.” 

you dress quickly, showing chrissy where you kept some of your older clothes that might fit her. 

“holy shit!” she grin, “i didn’t know you even owned skirts!” he laughs, pulling a small black garment from the drawer. 

you sit in the livingroom with eddie, waiting patiently for her to get ready while he tells you about the campaign from the night before. he’s getting ready to ask you what happened the night before when you hear her soft footsteps pattering down the hall. the sight before you makes you melt. she’s in the black shirt and one of your cropped iron maiden shirts. you swear to god you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than chrissy cunningham in your clothes. 

“jesus h christ.” you breath, moving from the couch to stand in front of her. 

“what? does it look bad?” she asks nervously, looking down at herself. you don’t answer, simply grabbing her chin and slamming your lips into hers. she hums happily into the kiss, hands coming up to cup your jaw. 

“as cute as this is, i’d much rather be getting called baby by mrs. wheeler. so can we go?” eddie asks from the couch. you roll your eyes, giving him the finger and beginning to follow him out the door. 

“just so we’re clear,” you whisper in her ear, “you’re never taking this outfit off again.” 

\\

“i’m not trying to be rude, but what the hell is chrissy doing in my kitchen with a zombie t-shirt on?” nancy asks you, looking up to see her complimenting maxs’  shirt while eddie shamelessly flirts with karen. you smirk at nancy, causing her jaw to drop. “oh-” 

much to your relife, she fits in perfectly. steve makes small talk with her while you try to convince eddie to stop being mean to dustin, to no avail. everyone seems to love her, and no one else questions why she’s suddenly there. they accept her into the group immediately without hesitation. 

you spend the whole day there, helping her get to know them and integrate her into the new setting. countless movies and board games later, eddie is tapping your shoulder and telling you that you need to go and set up to play. much to your distaste, he also tells you that the kids are coming with. 

“you stay with eddie, robin, or me the whole night. got it?” you tell dustin. he agrees reluctantly, but eddie promises you he’ll watch him after the set. 

the lake house is packed with drunk teenagers as you play your heart out, but you’re constantly looking around to check for the kids and chrissy. max never leaves her side as she makes her rounds, talking awkwardly with her cheer friends and robin attempts to babysit the others. you have no idea how steve does it. you’re drumming along to eddies’ guitar playing ‘don’t fear the reaper’ when an unusually loud voice rings above the others. 

“you shouldn’t even be here!” jason surls, jabbing his finger into chrissys’ chest. you don’t waste any time, slamming your sticks down and beginning to march toward them. you know eddie is calling for you to stop, but you can’t hear him over the sound of the blood pumping through your ears. 

“hey carver, how about you leave her alone and quite ruining my fucking set.” you growl, shoving him back by his shoulder. he looks shocked to see you, squinting as his hellish smirk grows on his features. 

“i think you need an attitude adjustment, henderson.” he snaps, reaching out for your waist. 

you don’t even think about it, fist colliding with his face, causing him to stumble back. his gaze is murderous as he looks back at you, hand holding the spot where your rings busted his skin. 

“oh shit-” you hear max gasp. jason grabs the collar of your shirt, shoving you back. you cry out when the corner of the cabinet slams into your back. you go to move your hand up, a moment too late as his knuckles slam into your nose. white hot pain shoots through your face and blood begins to pour onto your lips. 

“kick his ass, y/n!” dustin shouts. you look up at jason, panic in your eyes as he glares down at you. on instinct, your other hand comes up and mirrors your first hit on the other side of his face. he pulls on your shirt, using it to shove you back against the counter harder. you reach up in an attempt to claw at his face, but a sharp hook toward your cheek makes you whimper. 

your vision blurs at the pain, momentarily making you vulnerable. he slams his forehead into yours; you repress the urge to scream when his skull knocks yours. 

“do something.” chrissy whimpers at eddie, who’s watching in shock.  

“s-she’s got it-” he says hopefully, “let her have this.” his hope falters when he sees your knees wobble under your weight. you lazily pull your gaze back up to jasons’ face, the blood on it filling your chest with pride. 

“fuck you.” you grit, bringing your knee up and shoving it into his groin. he doubles over in pain; you take the opening to hike your foot up and kick him in the chest. he falls back, and you take the opportunity, moving to straddle him and get another hit in. you get two more good punches in before eddie slots his forearms under your armpits and pulls you upward. the adrenaline coursing through your veins has you about to push him back. he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. 

“you're done. he’s had enough.” eddie says sternly. you look down, seeing jason with a bloody face and close to tears. satisfaction swells your chest as chrissy grabs your wrist and leads you out the door. 

dustin and chrissy guide you to eddies’ van while he mumbles something about having a first-aid kit. your vision is blurry, and you would have fallen on your ass if it weren’t for their help. 

“that was so awesome.” mike beams.

“it was stupid.” robin snaps, making your confidence deflate. 

you sit on the floor of eddies’ van while chrissy cleans the split bridge of your nose. you hiss a few times at the sting, but you don’t speak. embarrassment is starting to swirl in your stomach. you look at chrissy, tears stinging your eyes. 

“i’m sorry.” you mumble softly. her eyes meet yours, face contorting in confusion. it quickly softness into a smile as he places a rainbow band-aid onto your nose. she presses a small kiss to it and you keen into her touch. 

“how ‘bout we give them a minute.” eddie says, starting to push everyone away. 

“it really was badass.” max grins, getting pulled away by lucas. dustin smiles proudly at you as eddie grabs his shoulders and guides him away. 

“it was.” chrissy muses, finger ghosting over your jaw to pull your vision back to her. “that’s probably the most heroic thing i’ve ever seen.” she smiles, thumb moving upward to stroke comfortingly at your bruised eye. a soft preening noise leaves your throat as you nuzzle into her palm. 

“you're not mad?” you ask, eyes shut as you bask in her touch. 

“nope.” she hums, pressing another small kiss to your nose. “in fact,” she whispers, “let me show you how grateful i am.” she lays you back softly onto the floor of the van. you release a shaky breath as she starts to unbutton your jeans. “let me take care of you, baby.” she mirrors your words. 

she shucks your pants down your legs, panties along with them. she straddles your thigh, leaning down to pull you into a kiss. it’s all teeth and tongue and love. it cuts off quickly as she presses her fingers to your clit, causing you to gasp. 

“fuck babe-” you whimper. your stomach tightens as she rolls the bud in small circles. your hands come up to grip harshly at her waist. 

“ah!” you cry, two skinny fingers slotting themselves inside you. 

“that’s it baby.” she smirks, beginning to pump them slowly. your back arches, breathing becoming embarrassingly erratic. you whimper and she’s practically purring while pressing kisses to the busted and bruised parts of your skin. 

“chrissychrissychrissy-” you babble. her thrusts don’t stutter as she adds a third finger, thumb fumbling your clit lazily. her free hand pushes your shirt up, admiring your braless tits as she begins to play with your nipples. her teeth graze one as she pinches the other. “princess please!” you whine.  

“i know, baby.” she hums into your skin, hips grinding down onto your thigh. her fingers speed up their menstruation, causing the knot in your stomach to become painfully tight. 

“chris please-” you whine pathetically under her. “m’so close.” you moan. she brings her lips up to yours, pressing into them without actually kissing you. 

“then let go, lover.” she breathes against them, fingers hooking up to press into your g-spot. 

“fuck!” you all but scream, hips pushing into her hand as the waves of pleasure rip through you. your legs shake around her wrist, the way they flex against her heat sending her over the edge. 

she lets out a quiet cry, body falling limp onto yours. your arms hug tightly to her waist, but her fingers just keep going. you let out a small cry in overstimulation. she presses a small kiss to the side of your face, fingers pulling out with a lewd squelching sound. your head lulls to the side, looking into her eyes. 

“i’ve loved you for as long as i can remember.” you admit, before you can think better of it. she only smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.  

“i love you too.” she giggles against them. “i’m all yours now, baby.”

#chrissy cunningham smut #chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #grace van dien #eddie munson #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #chrissy cunningham x you #chrissy cunningham imagine #henderson!reader #stranger things smut

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🌾 these quiet lives ⛰️

deanjo fic - 1437 words - rating: G - western au - read on ao3

There is a small ranch, somewhere on the border between Kansas and Nebraska, about a twenty minute ride out from the nearest town. Its windows are shuttered now, but in the ephemeral times of cowboys and outlaws, it was a bustling little place - perhaps not full of people, but full to the brim with two quiet lives being well lived after many days of hardship. 

These quiet lives were those of Jo Harvelle and Dean Winchester.

or, the dean and jo are long term cowboy partners on the ranch they bought together and now dean is cutting jo's hair fic

written for beloved rain @queerstudiesnatural's 2k celebration and the prompt deanjo! i had an absolute blast running with this. massive thanks to @magdaclaire for the beta <3

fic is below the cut!

There is a small ranch, somewhere on the border between Kansas and Nebraska, about a twenty minute ride out from the nearest town. Its windows are shuttered now, but in the ephemeral times of cowboys and outlaws, it was a bustling little place - perhaps not full of people, but full to the brim with two quiet lives being well lived after many days of hardship. 

These quiet lives were those of Jo Harvelle and Dean Winchester.

To everyone else (namely the nosey figures in the windows of that small town a twenty minute ride away), their partnership looked formulaic: a guy and a girl shacking up together with a few horses, a ranch, saving up to make the place a little cozier. Nothing that nobody hadn’t seen before. 

But what everyone else didn’t know was how radical their love was. The way that Dean was Jo’s first kiss with a man, and Jo Dean’s first kiss with a woman, when they were both far from virginity. How they had drifted in and out of each other’s lives for years like no one could decide their fate. The scars along Jo’s torso, too, were proof that they had almost been out of time. That they were alive, to realize the could-be potential of their will-they-won’t-they relationship at all, was incredible. It was the time of outlaws, afterall, and our two protagonists had not been immune to a lawless life.

With all that stood in their way you could perhaps be justified in saying their love was out of character. But it wasn’t. It made perfect sense, in the same way that poetry might, strong and solid in meaning if only when read by the right eyes. And that was Jo and Dean: a nonsense poem with a strict rhyme scheme, predictable on the surface yet profound between the lines. Rhythmic, galloping, beating hearts as certain as hooves on the sun-hard ground. 

Still, they weren’t strictly in love. Rather, the love was all around them. Jo saw it in the green oasis of their pastures amid the desert land, in the firewood piled beside the porch, in the leather jacket quietly left for her to wear on colder days. Dean saw it in the crystal clarity of the ranch windows after a rough wind, in the oats faithfully refilled in the stables, in the gift of a new hat with a wider brim when the heatwave came. For both of them it was a love of actions, the affection solid and tangible and filling after years of starvation.

Contentment, in the gentle touches of four scarred hands. 

On one of the long sloping dusks of August, the world bathing in nectarine and plum, Jo sat on the bottom porch step with Dean a step above, his knees either side of her. It was the kind of evening which cost nothing, yet gave everything in return, where the turn of the earth could be felt in the hum of the cicadas, and the day, while fading away, seemed still to be new - the kind of evening which only ever occurred thrice in the nineteenth century, and has not occurred since. Well, it was on that incredibly rare kind of evening belonging only truly to retired outlaws, that Dean held silver scissors (copper in the light) in his scarred hands as he snipped easily away at Jo’s hair.

“Almost a decade past since we got this place, now,” Jo mused. “You were 31 then, you’re 41 now.”

“And you were 24.” 

“I’m older now than you were when we moved here.”

Dean hummed, somewhere quiet between surprise and acknowledgement, the scissors snipping a melody at the nape of Jo’s neck. 

He had been in the habit of cutting Jo’s hair for as long as they’d set up together on the ranch - a few months short of a decade, to agree with Jo - as, though she liked knives, she wasn’t to be trusted with them near a head of hair, and Dean had had the practice of cutting his younger brother’s shag for all his adolescent years. 

Tonight, though, was slightly different from the usual trim. Cursing the summer heat and finally relaxing into Dean’s encouragement, Jo had marched up to her partner and demanded anything past her chin to be very decidedly cut off. She could tuck it behind her ears as she worked, and the wave of her hair would bring it up off her neck and out of the heat. All this had been patiently explained by Dean many times before. He had this way of knowing Jo, and knew, in the same way as he liked wearing his mother’s jewelry, that cutting her hair might steady her in the skin she was prone to slipping in and out of. 

So far, Jo liked it. Liked the feeling of weight leaving her, the almost dizzying lightness that came with her hair cascading to the floor. She had followed Dean blind into battle, and while she would not do that again, she could go all in on him cutting her hair well. The many hues of their relationship, the bright bruises of their coming-of-age, had not altered, simply mellowed. 

“D’you ever miss it?” Dean said, caring yet mild. “The life we had before all this?” 

Jo waited for two hawks to sail across the apricot sky before answering, no clouds to dapple the light. The words came to her easy enough, but from somewhere moving and deep, wading through long grass. She breathed in deeply, bringing herself to meet them, allowing herself to savor their sweetness.

“All the time we were running with that gang, I were thinkin’ - this is what proper love is, to have something worth dying for. I’d never known it before, you know. An’ then that hound sinks its teeth into my side an’ my vision goes white and there’s only one thing I remember seein’ after that.”

The careful snips of the scissors ceased, and Jo smiled, tilting her head upwards to hold Dean’s gaze.

“You. I could barely think nothin’ and it’s just your face in front of me and then I had one thought, and it were just that I’d been wrong. I were wrong. Love is something worth living for. By god, right then I knew it was worth livin’ for you.”

“Joanna Beth,” Dean whispered, his lips rose and soft around her name. 

Jo had not used to like it when he called her that, mainly due to the fact it was the name her mother had flung at her from across the bar in many a desperate fit of anger, back when she was alive and both of them working at the Roadhouse. It was a name that sank low in her gut like a guilty stone, heavy with the shame of misplaced temper. Jo had wanted to get out, and her mother had wanted a daughter, and neither could give the other what they wanted.

But Dean only ever used Joanna Beth in moments of adoration. As if he felt the simple Jo could not do her justice. When he said Joanna Beth, it meant he was seeing the whole of her, afresh, anew, finding again all of her troubled histories and still wanting to write futures with her.

Her slate was never, would never be clean. There was too much blood for that. But Dean saw the blood and did not love her in spite of it, but with it. Like he wouldn’t rather have her any other way. 

“Grow older with me, Winchester,” Jo murmured, and she turned in his lap to meet him, having been inches too far from him for far too long.

His lips pressed hers tenderly, like they had done hundreds of times before. The great heartlands of America could not hold as many sensations at this, for all of the lushious, dying, sprawling, changing lands around had nothing on them. They were not in love, but they were radiant with it, each with the other firmly and irreparably in their heart.

Jo had yet to find a gray hair, and she felt her breathing alongside Dean was nothing short of a miracle. She hummed these next words against lips, passing them like a breath between them.

“Grow old.”

And, dear reader, I can see even now through the shuttered windows of the ranch they whiled away their years on the many contented memories they made. There is still love there, this century and a half later: it is not a haunting, but a remembrance.

They did, indeed, grow old. 

#i had so much fun this was so indulgent !!!!!! love me some queerplatonic romantic loving deanjo <333 #dean winchester #jo harvelle #chestervelle #deanjo #spn fic #cowboy!dean #cowboynatural #ola writes #queerstudiesnatural2k

[friendamedes]

locked tomb fic, to be updated whenever possible.

ao3. alt.

RATED T:

the same mistake: campal slice of life, 2k.

drama in the library consumes palamedes, and camilla gives him a manicure to make up for it.

my love, i am the speed of sound: campal relationship study, 15k.

In which Camilla is upsettingly prone to injury; Palamedes experiences his first fictional crush; wounds are tended; childhood honor is defended; research is conducted; and baths are taken. (Or: a 5+1 exploration of Camilla's various scars, from Palamedes' perspective).

leftovers: corona pov campal, 4k.

Coronabeth Tridentarius observes, waits, and wants what she can't have.

hold close & snug: campal fluff, 1k.

Unfortunately, Camilla has morning plans.

intricate rituals: campal slice of life, 5.7k.

Palamedes attempts to convince Cam to pierce his ears.

the hands that beckon: cam-centric campal, 3k.

Camilla Hect takes a bath, thinks about the Warden, and has an awkward conversation with Nona.

some moments last forever: pyrrha pov musing on cam's suicidality, background campal, 3k. part one of a series.

A post-Nona no-Paul AU.

a white and soundless place: nona pov campal fluff, 2k. part two of a series.

Nona has a nightmare and seeks Camilla and Palamedes' comfort.

as in a mirror, dimly: campal, 2.5k. part three of a series.

Some time after his resurrection, Cam wakes Palamedes in the middle of the night.

grasping organ: griddlehark post-canon AU, 3.7k.

Gideon and Harrow discuss her newfound state of being (dead), the weather (rainy), and their relationship to each other (honestly, who knows).

something about mouths: campal pre-canon fluff, 2.6k.

An attempt is made.

snip snip: gideon/cam university AU, 2k.

“Uh,” she says. She traces her fingers down the curve of her own skull, brushing through her neglected undercut. It's getting way too long. “If you have time this afternoon.” “I do.” “Could you—if you’re down—” Cam quirks a single impatient eyebrow. “Shave my head?” finishes Gideon, her words running into each other anxiously. “Please?”

RATED M:

not quantum physics: campal demi4demi headcanon, 4.6k.

It becomes obvious to Palamedes that he approaches relationships differently than his cavalier. Cam entertains a lady friend. Juno hosts office hours. Internal Affairs does not yet secure their comeuppance.

introductions: reader/abigail/magnus with a healthy helping of worldbuilding, 4.8k.

Your relationship with Abigail changes. You can't help but get a little nervous.

kissing lessons: campalnona That NTN Hand Kiss But On The Mouth, 16k.

PALAMEDES SAYS A BAD WORD - NONA VISITS THE LAUNDROMAT - CAM DOES A CROSSWORD - EXPERIMENTING WITH BRAIDS - SOME KISSING - PYRRHA FINDS OUT - THE JOYS OF ICE WATER

Consensual Workplace Relationship: campal pre-canon fluff, 2.8k.

Tipsy closet makeouts. That's it. That's the fic.

put your sweet lips (on my lips): jodybeth pre-canon practice kissing, 4k.

Judith attends Coronabeth's eighteenth birthday party. Coronabeth tells her a secret, and together, they do their best to remedy her problem. Judith is repressed. Coronabeth is not.

Curtain Call: whumptober campal & campyrrha, 2k.

The Sixth's Grand Lysis goes wrong. Pyrrha Dve is left to pick up the pieces.

RATED E:

move (like grey skies): campal dom/sub, 10k.

“I have been,” says Palamedes crisply, the minute Camilla enters the apartment, “a very bad boy.” Cam spares him a side-glance, a flick of brown eyes toward him as she sets down her bag on the kitchen chair. She looks unimpressed. Her bangs are glued to her forehead with sweat; her tank top clings to her skin, soaked through the back. The line of her sports bra is clearly visible through the fabric. “All right,” she says.

taste your beating heart: campal somnophilia, 5k.

Cam is still asleep when Palamedes wakes up. He takes the opportunity to adore her.

A Titty Nature: camgideon, 1k.

Kissing, et cetera.

Standard Procedure: campal medical kink, 3k.

In the end, Cam doesn’t wear a nurse’s outfit: she borrows a white lab coat from some unspecified department, ties up her hair into a short, bobbing ponytail, and clips a pen to her breast pocket. She is wearing a pair of reading glasses that sit low on her nose—Kiana’s, Palamedes thinks, but he’s not certain. The whole of this does more to him, vis-a-vis the situation in his trousers, than he’s willing to admit.

Look At This Photograph: camgideon, 10k.

Cam's other girlfriend, a hobbyist photographer, enjoys taking erotic photos of her when she gets the chance. Gideon wants in.

C. familiaris: harrow/alecto petplay, 4k.

“Yes,” says Alecto. She speaks with a strange cadence, a sort of half-nervousness that sparks somewhere beneath Harrow’s sternum. “I have been an abomination, and I have been a human girl—I would like to be a dog.”

fearful passage: kiriona/ianthe necrophilia roleplay, drabble.

Ianthe and Kiriona play a game.

What the Doctor Ordered: campal genderfuckery, feat. transmasc pal in a femme nurse's outfit, 5k.

Palamedes gets a package.

Good Girl: tridentariicest petplay, 1k.

Coronabeth is Ianthe's big dicked bimbo puppy. Ianthe's into it.

the soft animal of your body: camnona omegaverse, 3k.

Nona goes into heat.

#i didn't like how the old one was formatted so i redid it - apologies if i'm clogging anyone's dash #quinn txt #the locked tomb #my fic #pinned

[nativestarwrites]

For future use whenever!

I'm taking a short break from Apocalypse fic to try to finish your “Someone get the medic. Get the medic!” prompt. I was going to keep this short, maybe 500 words but I think it's going to turn out much longer, more of a flashfic length (1-2k).

Here's a deliciously teasing snip (for context Beard is watching CCTV playback):

Beard watches Roy walk along the corridor, willing him to move quicker, to walk faster, to get to Jamie, despite knowing it’s not going to change anything that’s happened. This isn’t a movie. “Shit, Jamie!” Roy’s shout brings the rest of the team running down the corridor and the camera is obscured by shirts of red and blue. “Fuck!” The swear word cuts right across the chatter in the corridor, then- “Someone get the--” Roy’s voice cuts off as the video is abruptly stopped. “We know what happens next,” Beard says quietly, his head bowed.

#ask game #Ted Lasso

[navysealt4t]

HI ELLE!! :3

this chapter is tearing me to shreds (almost 2k words in...)

HI DECAY :33

oughh :(( this snip is tearing ME to shreds… travelling in a familiar place that feels so different because he’s not alone like usual :( also that lats paragraph!!!! chewing it up in my mouth i love the contrast between the painful grounding and comforting grounding <333

#ur writing makes me ILL u just describe super specific emotions so so well #asks #beloveds <3 #haunted ghouls

[jaggededges123]

"Impurity and Sensuality"?? 🫣

aHA--i was hoping someone would ask about this one because it's a Proper Wip with over 2k in it so far XD. this is the continuation of my fic immorality, featuring lots more eighthcest+ mess <3

have a snip:

“You’re a—a brute. All of the manners you were supposed to have were leached from you and given to Ram and Colum, instead—oh, oh—and your only redeeming quality is—ah!”

“If you don’t stop your moaning, I’ll use my fingers as a bridle for your overeager mouth,” Capris threatens, snapping his hips and sending another wave of sharp, overwhelming pleasure up Silas’s spine like a knife. “That’s a lot of words to say ‘thank you’ for fucking you so nicely.”

“Nicely?!” His head turns to look at his second-eldest nephew, “If this is a kindness, I would be—ha—loath to see your cruelty, Brother Capris. Your heart must be as black as the emptiness of space.”

“That’s it—I warned you, you brat.”

Capris’s hands move all at once as his hips still, faster than Silas could ever hope to and with the physical grace of someone who was trained to be a cavalier primary. Suddenly, Silas’s mouth is pried open by four strong fingers, and his tongue brushes against them, tasting the salt and sweat carried there from his own hips.

“You’re interrupting my fantasies, so shut your prissy mouth—oh wait, you can’t now, can you?” Capris laughs a little to himself as Silas whines in his shock. “Calm down. If you’re good, I might give you back your mouth in a minute.”

Silas could bite him, he realizes—and maybe he still would, in a bit, if Capris is traitorous instead of keeping his word. But for now, he takes what he is given with a wanton moan, the sound unrestrained because he cannot even close his mouth now. Capris fucks into him hard, even harder now, and it makes it impossible for Silas to seem dignified in any respect.

Silas is at least a little glad that neither Ram nor Colum are here to witness this particular defilement. With Capris’s fingers in his mouth, he cannot bear to swallow the spit tainted by sweat and the germs that must be on the thick digits, and so the saliva overflows, dripping down and ruining Capris’s sheets as some minute comfort and embarrassment both. Silas has never felt so little like the Master Templar—he is animal, and not human, and it’s as mortifying as it is arousing to the deepest part of himself. Silas cannot even imagine a scenario in which Colum would strip him of every trapping of humanity—it could only ever be Capris Asht, the middle child of his nephews.

What has Capris done to him? He has turned Silas from a sanctified virgin into a cock-hungry whore willing to accept manifold indignities to pretend for even just a moment that his own cavalier would be inclined to fuck him in any manner.

#capris fucks silas and then silas goes back to colum-- #--in a strangely infidelity-seeming scene which is not actually infidelity because silas and colum are not. strictly speaking. together #i promise it's not just gonna be #this is just the quick setup for this one. the main event is colum showing up and then they both have Feelings and are a little terrible #to each other and then finally they fuck yay #there are other things too but that's the gist XD #eighthcest+ #coffeetomb