#slow wakeup

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

all fair points....................

#but maybe it was queens' bad vibes that caused verlander's injury #lmao #the real problem is our farm prospects #literally if the astros are to actually put up a bad season it will be jim crane's fault #perhaps it would be a wakeup call but owners are stubborn............. #also pena is just a sophomore and bregman is always slow! #i have patience for abreu but hes certainly not living up to any expectations #like. at all

[devotedlystrangewizard]

*thinks of something while writing* *grabs phone* *scrolls through tumblr 5 minutes* *goes back to writing*

#ill probably go back into ffxiv in a bit #but honestly. i forgot what i was thinking of the moment i got up to grab my phone #so here we are #i WAS trying to write valerian's 'no listen actually heres why me killjng my parents is a good thing' breakdown #the part where everything just kinda. starts going downhill #bc he just keeps getting worse & worse until the wakeup call of 'holy shit my child probably died at carteneau' #this is like. actually 10 years before that. its a very slow spiral hes fallen into #OH RIGHT I MEANT TO CHECK MY EMAIL TO SEE IF I GOT A MESSAGE FROM THE PHARMACY ABOUT MY MEDS

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 4 - LN

content warnings: fluff, angst, drama (the whole shabang).

ur girl is going back to working full time tomorrow so if we have slow updates blame my place of work. also, im still recovering from the 4am wakeup and lando p3

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

“max pick up the damn phone,” y/n said, taking great strides across the paddock towards the car park. once again, the phone call had gone to voicemail. she clicked his contact details, ringing him again. only this time, it didn’t even ring. the phone went straight to voicemail. and to add to the matter, max’s car had disappeared from the car park.

y/n sat on the empty floor of the empty parking spot her brothers car had been in, opening up her phone to check the time and send a message to max, she probably should’ve waited for the mix of fear and anger to fade, but here she was, tapping aggressively at the screen of her phone.

if you think you can ignore me forever, you’ve got another thing coming

dont think you can jump to conclusions and throw a childlike strop about this.

but of course, the messages stayed on delivered for hours. it was at least 2 hours before lando’s caller id popped up on her phone, still with no word from max.

“hey, where did you go? mum said something about you walking off,” lando asked her the moment she answered the call.

“currently? i’m sat on the floor of the car park. where are you - ill walk over now,” she said bluntly. he stayed on the line until she entered the mclaren unit.

“y/n? what do you mean max has left?” panic rising in his voice as she walked up to him, his hands coming to rest on her waist.

“i mean he’s left. gone. driven off,” she said with a shrug, “he won’t answer my calls, hasn’t read my texts, he’s just gone.”

“he might be at the hotel? we’ll drive over in a bit and see?”

“i don’t think we should do anything, i think we might have done enough damage for one day.”

“y/n your brother has just driven off. you should at least try and check if he’s at the hotel.”

“fine, but i’m going alone.”

“let me try and talk to him first, you never know something might’ve happened with P?” lando said, still stroking her hips softly, desperately trying to think of any reason that his best friend had up and left.

4 unanswered calls later, and lando and y/n found themselves sat on the sofa in his driving room again, her head laying on her lap as he stroked her hair, trying to resolve the anxiety.

“i don’t care what he thinks, y/n. i feel so strongly about you and i think i have for years.”

“i think i have too. but i hate the thought of people disliking me, let alone my own brother.”

“i know, angel. he’ll come around soon, i promise.”

“that man held a grudge against me for years when i accidentally scraped the side of his kart when i was 12,” she said, laughing sadly at the memory of their parents having to sit them down in the living room and make them apologise to each other. the moment was quickly interrupted by her phone ringing, max’s caller id popping up on the screen.

“ma-”

“no. don’t talk to me. you two have lied to my face for years about this. lando promised me he would never even think about you in that way. and you, i don’t know what ive done to you for you to go behind my back and fuck my best friend but it’s not on.”

“max i-” lando tried to reason with him.

“oh, of course he’s there. just waiting for the moment i left to start fucking my sister, didn’t you?”

“it’s not like that, max.”

“no? then what is it like? ‘cos from where im standing it’s pretty clear he’s been waiting years to take advantage of my little sister,” he argued down the phone, venom rolling off his tongue.

“take advantage of me?” she scoffed, moving to sit up and hold the phone next to her mouth, “who the fuck do you think you are to talk to or about me in that way? who gave you the audacity to believe you have any control over who i choose to date? you couldn’t care less about protecting me, you only care about protecting yourself," she said, her voice raising and her finger moving to point as if he were stood in front of her.

“he’s not right for you.”

“that’s your opinion max. if you can’t trust me, or lando for that matter, then why should i bother giving you a moment more to talk down to me?”

lando sat silently next to her, playing with his own fingers. this was not his fight to fight right now. he’d speak to max privately later, right now, he knew y/n needed to stand up for herself, and god was she smashing it.

“why can’t you just listen to me?” max sighed, defeated, “i know what’s good for yo-”

“go fuck yourself,” she said, hanging up the call, and dropping her phone on the floor besides her. lando’s arms move to behind her waist, pulling her back to rest into him on the sofa. the room fell into silence.

“im sorry,” she mumbled.

“don’t be sorry. this is on him, and me. i should’ve told him the truth the first time round. hell, i should’ve told you the truth earlier.”

“i’ve ruined your big day, lan. p2 - you should be celebrating, not arguing with your best friend.”

“im with you - that’s celebration enough,” he said, happy to see her smile for the first time in hours. she moved to lay her head back down on lando’s lap, this time looking up at him. a knock on the door brought the two of them back to reality, and cisca walked in, adam trailing slightly behind.

y/n contemplated moving, jumping away from the boy who was currently running his hands through her hair, but it had only been 4 hours of hiding whatever was going on between the two of them and she was already bored of keeping up the pretence.

“y/n, love, did you find max?” cisca asked, eyes softening at the scene unfolding in front of her. had she secretly wished for this for years? maybe.

“yea, he um, he went home.”

“he’s not happy about this, is he?” adam said, pointing between the two of you, yet even he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“not happy, fuming, absolutely raging - i guess you could say that,” she replied, laughing slightly to ease any tensions.

“he’ll come around lovely, he can’t stay mad at you. you’re his sister after all.”

“i love that you think so highly of my brother, cisca. he will go to the grave holding this grudge if he can.”

“ill talk to him later ang- y/n,” lando said, correcting himself quickly, not comfortable enough yet to be overly affectionate in front of his parents.

“good luck with that,” y/n joked, patting him on the arm sadly.

later that evening, y/n found herself sat on the floor of lando’s hotel rifling through her bag to find her pyjamas. earlier, her and lando had driven to her hotel room, to find that max had packed his stuff and left as expected. she didn’t want to be alone, and lando didn’t want to leave her alone. her phone began to ring, and she answered it praying it wasn’t max.

“y/n the videos of you are going feral on twitter right now,” her best friend, caitlin, shouted down the phone the moment she picked up.

“stop it - what are people saying?”

“erm, some people think it’s cute?” he friend responded, voice laced in slight worry.

“…and the rest of them think im a slut?” y/n added, but her friend only responded with a hum.

“what’s max said?”

“from what i remember, he drove off leaving me stranded at the track and then rang me to say i was making a mistake, i was a liar and he never wanted to speak to me or lando ever again.”

“taking it well then,” the girl responded, y/n could hear her eyes rolling. at that moment, lando emerged from the bathroom, with just a towel hanging around his waist. any words y/n intended to say got stuck in her throat. he took strides towards her, noticing she was on the phone and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before moving to his own suitcase to find a change of clothes.

“y/n…are you in lando’s room right now?”

“maybe?” y/n responded in a guilty tone, quieter than she had before, glad lando couldn’t hear the girl on the other side of the phone. however, he seemed to clock on to the question from the small grin on her face.

“girl why did you answer the phone? go spend time with your new controversial boyfriend.”

“he’s not my b- you know what, i’m gonna go.”

“dont do anything i wouldn’t do, stay safe!” her friend added cheerily, laughing as she ended the call. cheery was the furthest emotion from what y/n felt at this moment in time.

once y/n was in her pyjamas, she moved her way back into the room, lando was sat up in bed, his back resting on the headboard, phone in hand. he looked up as she walked in, patting the spot next to him for her to join. her face fell into a look that screamed apprehension.

“y/n nothing bad will happen if you get into this bed and cuddle with me.”

“something bad already happened,” she said, climbing under the duvet next to him nonetheless. his hand reached behind her waist pulling her into his chest, her head coming to rest on him.

“im happy this happened, but im not happy about every thing that’s happening as a result," she told him, her eyes blinking slowly as the exhaustion from todays drama caught up with her.

“i know baby,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “get some sleep. we’ll sort this out tomorrow, i promise.”

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @mehrmonga @eviethetheatrefreak @thatoneembarrasingmoment @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @formula1mount @lottef1 @rayna-s @5starl1ght @cthgee

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

[scribbledghost]

Some Simon "Ghost" Riley Headcanons

Because I have so many thoughts about this man. Please feel free to ask me to elaborate on any of this bc I can and I will if given the chance.

Love language is 1000% Acts of Service. A close second is Quality Time.

That doesn't mean he neglects the other areas, though.

I know he seems rough and stoic, but in my mind that's mostly a battlefield personality. He's like that in the field because he has to be - there's little room for nonsense during an op.

No, in my mind, he's... different when he's at home. A good kind of different.

He's still quiet, but it's a softer quiet. Not the quiet of a sniper training a scope, but the quiet of an early morning in the arms of the one you love.

That being said, he rises early. Not necessarily because he wants to - he'd probably sleep until noon every day if he could - but because his body is hard-wired to a military wakeup time.

Doesn't mean he gets out of bed when he wakes up, though.

And if he's in bed, you can bet he's either A) cuddling you, or B) complaining that he's not getting to cuddle you.

A guilty pleasure he has is waking up before you and just... studying you. He doesn't keep any kind of photograph or evidence of you on his person when he's away (too dangerous), so he takes advantage of any time he has with you to memorize your features.

Likes Hozier. No I will not elaborate.

Okay yes I will: His favorites are "NFWMB", "As It Was", and "Sedated". ("Work Song" is, in his mind, "your" song.)

Can play guitar. He very, very rarely does, but he can still strum out something slow when the mood strikes him right.

Can't particularly sing, though. So if he feels the need to, he'll just hum along.

He has several pet names on rotation and rarely calls you by your full name. His favorites are "love", "darling", "sweetheart", and "pet".

Though, there is one that you quickly noticed is reserved for very quiet, solitary moments: "lovey". He doesn't say it often, but that just makes it all the sweeter when he does.

Still usually has a mask on in public, but it's plain black as opposed to skull-printed. He likes the safety of the mask, but doesn't want to take the slim chance of anyone recognizing him as Ghost. Especially when he's out and about with you.

It takes him a long-ass time to actually say the words "I love you". But if you know anything about him at all, you know that he says it in his own way pretty early on.

Asking if you've eaten. Making sure you get home alright. Grabbing your favorite takeout. Mysteriously leaving one of his jackets or something else of his at your place every single time he's there (it gives him an excuse to come back later).

Not to mention the simple phrase "I trust you". To Simon Riley, that may as well be a damn marriage proposal. And he says it to you on the third date without even thinking.

When he's yours, he's yours. Down bad. Whipped. However you wanna put it. But if you've managed to weasel your way past his emotional walls and baggage, he's committed.

The rest of the 141 make fun of him for it when they find out (especially Soap), but Simon could not give less of a fuck.

In that same vein, there is nothing this man would not do to keep you protected. He would rip the world off it's fucking hinges, rattle the heavens, whatever he needed to do. As long as it meant you were safe.

#i have more thoughts if. anyone wants to hear em. #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #ghost scribbles

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here’s the thing: Jeff isn’t actually a meddler by nature.

He’s perfectly content to let people be. He keeps himself to himself and is happy when others do the same. It’s not that he’s never curious, it’s just that he asks personal questions sparingly. And he’s probably going to ask them even more sparingly in the future, because the last time he’d asked one, he’d accidentally broken up one of his best friend’s relationships.

In fairness to Jeff, that relationship was going to blow up sooner rather than later (that is, in fact, exactly what Eddie had said to him when they’d talked a few days after the incident in question; Eddie had even said that he thinks he’d needed the wakeup call, though he’d have preferred it hadn’t happened the way it did – the way that hurt Steve so much. All the same, he seems determined to make things right, so– maybe not the worst thing in the world?), but still, Jeff feels a little… guilty isn’t quite the word, but he doesn’t have a better name for the squirm of emotion in his gut when he catches sight of Steve at Melvald’s one evening.

He hasn’t seen Steve in over a week, now – not since he’d abruptly left Eddie’s place after being unceremoniously informed that his boyfriend (Jeff’s pretty sure that’s the train Steve had been on) is apparently not actually his boyfriend.

And it isn’t as though he or Gareth or Oliver had really hung out with Steve sans Eddie before, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be willing; Jeff’s experience with Steve Harrington in high school had been peripheral at best, and though he hadn’t had the best impression of him at first, he’d actually come to enjoy his company since he started hanging around Eddie after that disaster of a spring break. He doesn’t know much about D&D (though Jeff suspects he knows a lot more than he lets on), and he’s not particularly into fantasy or sci-fi, but he does have a bizarrely encyclopedic knowledge of sports, and had been excited to learn that Jeff is into baseball and hockey.

He's just as bitchy as Jeff had always thought he was, but he’s also unexpectedly kind, and funny in a way that had caught all of them off guard, and largely seems like a solid sort of guy.

And Jeff just feels kind of shitty that the last time they hung out had ended the way it had, that’s all.

That is his main excuse for why he approaches Steve in the cereal aisle at Melvald’s at 8 p.m. on a Friday.

He clears his throat. “Hey.”

Steve turns, brows furrowed as he looks to see who’s trying to get his attention, clearly not expecting any kind of social encounter, but his expression clears a bit when he sees Jeff. “Oh. Uh– Hey,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I don’t seem like the type to eat breakfast cereal?” Jeff teases, and a little bit of the tension in Steve’s shoulders seems to ease away.

“More like I thought I was the only person lame enough to be grocery shopping on a Friday night,” he counters with a smirk.

“You might be,” Jeff says, though he keeps his voice warm. “I just stopped in to pick up some snacks for the weekend after– uh,” Jeff stops short; shit, why did he bring that up?

Steve stares at him for a moment, calculating, and Jeff sees the moment he makes the connection.

“Hellfire tonight, right?” Steve asks, his tone almost unnervingly neutral as he looks back towards the shelves.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, still watching Steve carefully. “Just ended about half an hour ago.”

Steve gives a slow nod. “How was it?”

And – well, there are two options from here. Jeff could take Steve’s polite interest at face value, tell him it was a good session, and let them both awkwardly get on with their nights, or… He could be truthful, and maybe see how Steve’s really doing (which would also be awkward, so it’s not like Jeff really has much to lose).

“To be honest? Not great.” Jeff shrugs. “Eddie hasn’t been in good form lately.”

He can see the curve of a sad sort of smile cross Steve’s face, just briefly.

“That sucks, man. Hope he, uh… gets his head back in the game soon, I guess?” Steve offers.

Whether he does or not will probably be entirely dependent on how his plans to fix things with Steve play out; Eddie hadn’t told Jeff much (apparently, he’s done accidentally flying his dirty laundry for the time being), but he had said that Steve had asked for a little time, and that they would be talking again soon.

“I think he’s working on it,” Jeff says, rather than digging into that particular can of worms. “And, uh… How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Steve says a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

Jeff pauses for a minute, pursing his lips and staring up at the ceiling. Is he really doing this? On a Friday night at fucking Melvald’s?

“It just sucks,” he finally says, “that…”

“That you all had to see that I’m actually an oversensitive loser when you realized I’d basically made up an entire relationship and then ran out over it like an idiot?” Steve suggests, his tone so false and light that it sets Jeff on edge.

“That Eddie couldn’t see that he had something really good in front of him. That he completely fumbled it,” Jeff corrects him.

It’s only after he’s spoken that he remembers they’re in a public place, and that talking to one guy about his relationship with another guy isn’t particularly safe. He glances around, hoping it’s not too little, too late, and is relieved to find that the store is just as empty as it had been when he’d first stepped in. When he looks back to Steve, he finds him staring, brows furrowed like he’s trying to puzzle something out.

“Isn’t Eddie one of your best friends?” Steve asks at last.

Jeff shrugs. “Makes me qualified to point out when he’s been an idiot.”

Steve says nothing, just pins Jeff with that confused stare for a moment longer before turning back to the shelf, as if he might finally decide on what cereal he wants.

“If it helps at all,” Jeff says, more quietly this time, “the reason we were even talking about it is because I asked Eddie how it was going – the two of you dating. We all thought you were. We were– well, probably not just as surprised as you, but pretty damn surprised when Eddie said you weren’t.”

“That… actually does. A little,” Steve answers softly, cutting a quick glance at Jeff. “Thanks.”

Jeff shrugs. “It’s just– Eddie’s not– he’s not a bad guy. He gets caught up in things, and he forgets to pay attention, but he wouldn’t do something like that on purpose.”

“I know,” Steve says, not quite sharp, but not quite gentle, either.

“Sorry, I’m not… trying to talk him up. I swear I’m not here advocating for him, or whatever.” Jeff sighs. “You’re totally within your rights to tell him to fuck off—hell, you can tell me to fuck off—I just wanted to say that if he tells you he’s sorry, if he says he wants to fix it, he really does mean it.”

“Yeah. I know,” Steve says again, and this time he sounds gentle – a little soft and distant.

Jeff reaches up and clasps one hand over Steve’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing him. “Anyway, if we’re not going to be seeing you at any of the regular places, you should come over and catch a game sometime.”

It seems like a given that Steve won’t be sitting in on anymore Hellfire sessions for a while, or coming to see their gigs at The Hideout like he had been (he’s already missed one, and they had all pretended not to notice the way Eddie had completely ignored the side of the room with the table where Steve would usually sit and watch), but Jeff finds himself unwilling to let go of his friendship entirely.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, glancing over again.

“Sure.” Jeff shrugs. “Offer stands. Gareth and Oliver’d be happy to see you, too.”

“They’re not into sports,” Steve says.

“But they can be bribed with snacks,” Jeff answers, and Steve gives a huff of a laugh.

“Cool,” he says, the first real smile Jeff’s seen from him all night beginning to cross his face. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”

Jeff smirks at him. “Will you have your people call my people?” he teases, and Steve reaches out to give his shoulder a light shove.

“Fuck off, man,” he snickers.

“Only because I have other things to do,” Jeff says, heading back down the aisle the way he’d come. “Night, Harrington.”

“Night,” Steve calls back after him, sounding a bit lighter than when Jeff had found him.

Feeling a little lighter himself, Jeff snags an extra package of Ho Ho’s on the way to the register. He figures he’s earned it.

Part 6

-

Tag List (Now full, I'm sorry! Drop me a line if you want off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#steddie #steve harrington #jeff stranger things #steve & jeff #steve & corroded coffin #stranger things #sorry this bit's short but it's going to pick up soon! #solar wrote

[toxicanonymity]

raider masterlist

dark!Joel x f!reader | updated: April 11, 2024: tired

moodboard by @milla-frenchy 🖤 a rb will not stay up-to-date.

SUMMARY: He's a bad guy, and you're his good girl. Joel saves you from bad men, but claims you for himself and takes you. You're his, and he won't let anyone forget it. His persona starts to crack, but he gets even more possessive. You're his world, and he'll do anything to keep you. Emotional slow burn. WARNINGS: 18+ canon-typical violence, noncon via implicit threat, evolving to enthusiastic dubious consent (stockholm syndrome), depraved use of praise and pet names (sweet pea, baby), unsafe P in V, exhibitionism, extreme possessiveness, dark fluff (🖤), angst, and more. NO USE of Y/N, No physical description of reader.

Spotify: raider, sweet pea (smut) Optional reference: trailer floor plan

main fic

Raider: (Mar 24, 2023) - He "saves" you, then has his way with you on an old mattress. Joel POV

Failed Rescue (Apr 8 - 1.9k) Your bf tries to save you. Joel makes him watch then keeps you.

Stash House (Apr 11 - 850)- Joel takes you to the stash house and shows everyone you're his. Wash Bin 🖤 (Aug 27, 1k) Shooting Practice Drabble(Jul 28, 1.6k)-

Failed Escape (Apr 23, 4k)- Joel saves you from FEDRA, bathes you, amd edges you.

J. Miller (May 19, 2k) - Joel labels you with his switchblade and claims all your holes. dark.

Home (May 29, 1.3k) - Joel makes dinner at home, cleans your chest, and tucks you in. 🖤

Company (Jun 9, 2.2k) - Joel brings home a girl to distract his men. dark. Extra Scene - angst.

Close (Jul 3, 2.7k) - close call with other raiders. You-almost-died sex, and later, tender sex 🖤

Gun Hug (Jul 31, 3.7k) - Joel traps 2 bad guys with some help and kills them while you. . .🖤 If you want him (1.5k) - he holds out to see🖤

Night Air (Aug 30, 3.5k) - Joel is brutal with a bad guy and his POV reveals some feelings. 🖤 Bonus blurb, wakeup pwp drabble

Hunger (Sep 29, 7k) - Joel takes you on a trek, comforts you, kills a guy, and gives you head. 🖤 He's only human (1.1k) - 👱‍♂️Carter POV, overlaps w/ hunger.

Bodies (Dec 3, 7.8k) - Strangers show up and cause a shitstorm, but Joel takes a big step. 🖤 Raider POV

No cliffhangers if you read through Bodies.

more smut, dark fluff, etc ⬇️

drabbles, imagines, hypotheticals

🔥 explicit smut

Trying to use him (800) (riding) 🔥

House meeting drabble 🖤

You get sick at night drabble 🖤

He goes down on you (oral f) 🔥

sweet pea by herself

Apple picking 🖤

If you touched his scar

if men had hurt you in the past

if you got your period 🖤

magazine and makeup 🖤

yoga pwp drabble piv 1k 🔥

boots drabble (oral f receiving) 🔥

graveyard blurb (spice)

if you bit his arm drabble (p in v) 🔥

If you snapped (emotional spice) 🖤

face sitting on sofa 🔥

If you sketched Joel and Jack

being bad, looking good (2.8k, smut) 🔥

Van ride drabble (800) 🖤

sleeping beast (<1k), PWP 🔥

If Joel was sick 🖤

If you were annoying

cutting his hair 🖤

waking up on top 🔥

✨tired 🖤

if you can handle it, there's non-canon carter smut 👱‍♂️

Note: not all content is linked here. Asks can lead to lore and previews or hints of future plot points, etc.

Headcanons (not written like fic)

If another man has his way (Q&A)

dacryphilia - evolved update (Q&A)

if you had scars or tattoos (Q&A)

👱‍♂️raider carter Qs, face claim (Q&A)

Analysis (#raider!analysis)

why does he keep her

why did he snap (in Company extra scene)

his eye contact

his affection / feelings, trajectory 🖤

falling for sweet pea

his self hate and her feelings

the dog and joel's concern for you

✨awareness of growth / why keep her

Raider Tommy

Birds of prey (2.6k)

Art, etc.

Mattress by esquire magazine

Stitches by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

collage by @milla-frenchy

lose control edit by @survivingandenduring

🌸 sweet pea mood boards by various

6 month collage by milla-frenchy

6 month cake by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

🌸 sweet pea cosplay from night air

👱‍♂️carter mood board by @romana-after-dark

pts. 1-3 rb mood boards by @iamasaddie

night air gif by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

raider/sweet pea collage by milla

sweet pea's pup by @dark-scape

want it that bad gif by @dark-scape

Bodies gif by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

👱‍♂️carter mood board by milla-frenchy

Then and now drawing by @romana-after-dark

Raider/sweet pea drawings by @lumoverheaven

our stars moodboard by milla

raiding edits by gasolinerainbowpuddles

under the anger by iamasaddie

✨🎥 Trailer (video) by @carminepoison

✨ birthday sketch by @lumoverheaven

If I've left yours off please lmk I prob tagged improperly

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🖤 If mine or another writer's work has inspired yours, it's always better late than never to share / shout-out 🖤

#raider!Joel Miller #dark fluff #stockholm syndrome #raider!Joel #dark!Joel Miller #dark!Joel #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal masterlist #toxic masterlist #joel miller smut #joel miller masterlist #pedro pascal smut #joel miller series #toxicanonymity ☠️ #possessive!joel #possessive!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #stockholm syndrome fic #raider joel miller

[six-of-ravens]

boss indicated we may be going back to working at the office soon and I'm trying to get all my fellow employees who don't want to, to RISE UP AND PROTEST

my antagonist is the one guy who thinks our boss will dock our pay and make us work 20 hour days if we protest.

#to be fair that guy regularly has to work overtime #but that's bc he's SLOW AF and like. its a personal problem #he can't dev a site in a timeline the rest of is consider 'generous' #also my boss isnt the type to dock our pay #im just hoping we will have the option to work from home going forward...gas is sooooo expensive rn #and i can't afford the extra fee of a transit pass either 😬 #anyway work from home is great #our one PM wants us to be in the office bc he thinks he can just be running around tapping on our shoulders all the time #like a kindergartener who has to pee... #but in the office we still use skype all the time bc we have to focus on our tasks... can't be interrupted every 5 mins #so if he does get us all dragged back to the office... he's going to have a horrible wakeup call #anyway i will cry and my bank account will cry if we have to go back to the office

[urhoneycombwitch]

im gonna be at work for high night 🙄 so save my self-indulgent idea for later lu

reader who keeps hitting the snooze button on their alarm and groans knowing they need to get up for work but they just really cannot find the motivation to. The bed is warm and they're so comfortable and what's the harm of calling out....

Eddie who notices they're still laying down, eyes closed and in that fighting off being awake state and he knows there's only so many snoozes they can hit before they're definitely going to be running late so he sneaks under the covers....

and he doesn't come back up again until reader is awake, a tired, but satisfied smile on their face as they blink up at the ceiling. He presses some kisses to their lips/cheek/neck, slick and smelling like them, going "Hi, pretty. Ready to get up now?"

nauuurrr anon 😞 we will miss you but hope u see this after ur shift 💖 eeeheeeeheeeheee I’m literally kicking my feet behind my back sleepover-style giggling at this. that ellipses is so sinister I gotta help it out

+18 mdni

cw: R receives oral + fingering while sleeping (has been previously discussed as a 👍), somno, Eddie’s a soft!dom

___

Eddie’s always so attentive to your needs and state of being- he’s naturally super empathetic. by no means a morning person himself, he learns quickly that the rhythm of your day is usually set by how you wake up.

he’s dealt with the consequences of you having been off to a bad start, before- it takes a huge amount of cajoling or kisses or swinging by the diner for waffles to shake you out of a grumpy funk. and based on the way you’ve been tossing and turning this morning, you’re about to have the most miserable work shift ever.

what he doesn’t have this morning, though, is a lot of time- waffles will have to be for another day. he’s got an even better idea for a sweet wakeup.

he moves slow, weight in his hands on either side of your sleeping frame, kissing as he moves down your body. first to your bare shoulder. then to the side of that pretty nightie’s strap. one for your pebble nipple, peaking through the silk.

Eddie trails his kisses down- one on your stomach, one for the bump of your cunt- pulling the sheets away as he goes.

with fingers nimble and dextrous, he feels for the band of your underwear while keeping his eyes on your face, careful to pause if your expression changes. the goal is to keep you pliant, for this next part…

he gets his head under the edge of your nightdress, pussy fully exposed to the eager lappings of his mouth. with one hand on your stomach to keep your center grounded, Eddie slips the middle two fingers of his other hand into your slippery cunt.

a soft shift of your hips, a whimper, and Eddie moves his hands with your pelvis, using the momentum to dip and catch your clit in his mouth.

he follows with his head as your hips sink back down into the mattress, sucking hard on your beating clit as he goes.

you must’ve been having a dirty dream, ‘cuz you’re already so tight around his fingers, slick pooling in his palm. he laps noisily into your cunt, wet squelch of his fingers bringing you to bleary consciousness.

“whuh- uh- oh fuck, Eddie-”

your legs jerk close on impulse, trapping his head between your thighs, and Eddie thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. fully clothed, about to cream his jeans from eating his girl out. sure, he’s down to meet god, but can it wait a second?

“was dreamin’ you- ah, yeah, there- dreamin’ of you doing this to me. fuck…” your voice ends in a hoarse rasp, your hands shooting into Eddie’s hair, tugging at the roots.

he ruts into the mattress, cock leaking steadily into the fabric of his briefs, humming with pleasure against your clit.

your back arches off the mattress, he hears that tell-tale, breathy little gasp, and you’re gone- clenching around his fingers like a vice, flooding against his pistoning fingers.

he’s gone just as soon as you, coming in hot spurts with each upstroke against the quilt below, moaning into your pussy.

he kisses a sticky trail back up your body, sliding your nightie strap into place, loving and firm- “morning, princess. go take a shower, and no complaining. as a thank you for the wake up gift- ‘kay?”

you wouldn’t dream of complaining, nodding easily to his command, sleepy and sated smile on your face. your arms reach to encircle his shoulders, and Eddie leans in for a kiss- he tastes like you.

#eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #somno #tw somno

[incorrectskywalkers]

Fallen Order AU where Cere is killed and Cal is taken by Darth Vader with the intention of making him an Inquisitor. But when Cal’s psychometric abilities are revealed, Vader has a different plan in mind, one that causes certain truths and revelations to come to light. Cal didn’t know what he was getting into when he showed Vader what he saw through those echoes, but he really didn’t sign up to accompany said Sith Lord while he went through a midlife crisis.

Essentially, Vader finds out the truth about how Palpatine lied to him and how Padmé really died and also the fact that he has twins out there somewhere and decides “fuck palpatine” and drags a bewildered Cal - who becomes his unofficial apprentice of sorts - with him as he plots a way to take the emperor down and also, find his kids.

Also a Darth Vader redemption of sorts. He’s still a pretty shitty guy at the start and his whole reason for wanting to kill the Emperor is solely to avenge Padmé. He also has some murderous intent towards Obi-Wan for hiding his children from him and also, leaving him to burn. He’s in the mindset of believing that he wasn’t at fault and blames others for everything that happened, including his actions. But gets a hard wakeup call from Cal when he shows him just how shitty things are and what the Empire, what he has done and finally thinks “oh, I’m the problem” and from then on his slow redemption starts as he sets out on attempting to repair the damage done as he starts back on the rocky path towards the light. He also trains Cal, who at first goes “fuck that and fuck you” but eventually the two become a duo. Like Vader and Starkiller if Vader was going through a crisis, stumbling through a path of redemption and Starkiller was his tired, annoyed, unofficial apprentice who was unwillingly dragged along for the ride.

#im very tempted to write a fic based on this premise but i already have an ongoing work #and i am awful at balancing multiple fics at once. but one day!! i might #star wars #star wars au #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #cal kestis #darth vader #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #not a quote

[thepixelelf]

For your idol + au thing! (If you're still accepting/looking) mirror verse where you wakeup in a parallel universe and somehow your archenemy seungcheol is in love with you in this world and you're not sure if this is all just an elaborate prank

wc: 1.8k

warnings: attempted assassinations, knives/swords, choking (not the kink like actually an attack bro)

notes: sorry-- I didn't incorporate the elaborate prank part at all but I hope you enjoy!!

[in another life] As your hand guides you through the unlit servant's hallway of the palace, brushing over the paper walls, you breathe as shallowly as your lungs allow. You cannot afford error— not tonight.

Whoever brings Prince Jeonghan's head to your master first will be named his true heir. The next generation's Moonlight Assassin. Whoever completes this final task for him will be left with his overwhelming wealth...along with his immeasurable debt of sin.

Despite the caveat, you simply must be faster than Choi Seungcheol. You understand that he's been training under the master since he was young, and he surely deserves the title of Moonlight Assassin over you, but while you know he wants it, you need it.

Your sister is dying.

Racked by terrible bouts of fever and haunted nightly by ominous visions, she is now too exhausted to even leave her bed. She's already lost her sight. The physician said her hearing would be next, and not long after that, her life.

You haven't told Seungcheol any of this, lest he use your one weakness against you, but there was a moment a year ago when you told him you didn't mean to steal his glory.

"I need the money," you'd said. "It isn't about the title for me."

You thought perhaps he'd take some pity on you then, but it only made him despise you more. He hated that you'd shown up from almost nowhere and somehow charmed the master into taking you in as an apprentice — hated you even more when you seemed to know enough about poisons to impress the master when he'd worked for years to do the same.

For a brief moment, you considered telling Seungcheol your true plan. You only wanted enough money to help your sister; likely a modicum of the master's wealth could cover it. All you needed was that much, and then you'd renounce yourself and cede the Moonlight Assassin title to Seungcheol voluntarily.

But you doubted the master would be happy to hear of your intentions, and you didn't trust Seungcheol enough to stay mum. He'd probably tattle just to get you disqualified before the task even began.

In the end, you kept quiet and let Choi Seungcheol despise you. It was easy when you let yourself despise him back.

His ego was appalling, really, and you truly hated that smug smirk of his whenever he bested you in melee training.

Upon reaching the bend you know is nearest to the honeymoon quarters, you hold in a chuckle. Seungcheol won't be able to smirk now— you'll have the Prince's head before the sun rises. And you'll do it without waking up his new bride, too.

A hand wraps around your throat. Another over your mouth.

Despite your surprise, you make not a sound, knowing just one shift too loud will ruin everything. Only a moment and a half of struggling goes by before the next sound you keep inside yourself is a groan. You know these hands. They've held you down and bruised you enough times for you to remember the shape of them imprinted into your flesh.

"Fool," he whispers in your ear, the sound harsh and demeaning. "You're so slow. I've been waiting for you for hours."

Using both hands, you tear his palm from your mouth, though you have a feeling he is the one who lets you do so. You keep your voice to a low hiss. "You've been here for— why wait for me? You could've killed him by now."

Seungcheol huffs, the quiet version of a haughty scoff. "I could kill a measly prince any day. Tonight is about beating you." He tightens the hand he has around your neck. "I'll enjoy putting you in your place."

"You braggadocios, bull-headed prick—" The insults don't flow from your lips, they come out choking. Your head starts to feel light. "You parading, pathetic narcissist—

Another huff. "If there is one thing I'll miss, it will be your colourful mouth."

Your eyes flutter, eyelids growing heavy. There is not enough air for you to say anything more.

"Goodnight," Seungcheol whispers, his smiling curving against the shell of your ear. "You'll see me well won when you wake."

The last thing you feel is him lowering you softly to the floor, his hand under your head— if only to make less noise than dropping your slack body like a sack of rice.

=

Your first instinct when your consciousness returns is to keep your eyes shut. There is an arm over your waist, and you are lying on your side atop something soft.

Heaven's threads— have you already been jailed? Is some prisoner using you for warmth?

But no, the softness under you feels too fine on your skin. The arm around you feels...tender. Loving. An embrace.

For a moment, you fall into an illusion of time gone backward. You picture yourself and your sister in the small home of your childhood, in the tiny bed you shared before her sickness took over.

This arm is not hers, though. It is much too thick, and — you slowly shift your hand to find the stranger's fingers that graze over your stomach — strong. A hand belonging to someone who developed this strength for years, who...

You freeze.

A hand that was just around your throat. You would recognize it anywhere.

Whipping around, you shove Seungcheol's shoulder so he lays flat, and you straddle his legs to keep them from moving. The knife you keep strapped to your leg is still there, despite everything else feeling so foreign. You hold his dominant arm down with one hand and bring your knife to his neck with the other.

You're shaking.

Slowly, groggily, Seungcheol opens his eyes. You expect him to break free and strike you back — at least try — but his eyes just widen.

"Love," he whispers. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" you interrogate, head swimming. "Where are we? Why am I— why are we—"

His thick brows furrow. "Are you alright?" He doesn't seem to fear the knife at his throat. Doesn't seem to fear you, or the way you've started to struggle against your own breath. "Love, calm down." His hand reaches to push the knife away from his neck, and with his soothing tone of voice, you let him. He sits up and brushes the back of his fingers over your cheek. Gently, he squeezes your hand. "It's alright. You're safe here. I'm with you."

As soon as your breathing evens, you come back to yourself. You smack his hand away from your face. "What the hell has gotten into you? This looks like..." You turn left and right, taking in the room around you lit only by a sparse few candles. "...the palace. What happened? Where is the prince?"

Seungcheol pouts. You didn't know his lips could do that. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, but you slap it away again. "Are you feeling feverish? Dizzy?"

"I'm confused. Why are you acting so strange?"

"Love--"

"That!" you exclaim. "That word-- 'love'. You keep saying it. I don't understand."

He squeezes your hand again, and for some reason, you don't pull away. "I thought you liked that one... You never liked honey, or blossom, or dewdrop--"

You scowl and shove his shoulder, which he only smiles and laughs at. The smile throws you off -- it isn't the smug, irritating one you are accustomed to -- it's wide and bright and warm. He cups your cheek, his smile softening but not going away.

"Love, I think you're tired. Let's go back to sleep."

"Let's?"

Seungcheol chuckles. "You must be exhausted after today. 'Where is the prince'? I'm right here, love."

For a few moments, you simply stare at him. This man, Choi Seungcheol, who once had to be ordered by the master to stop sparring, otherwise he'd break both of your legs -- this man is cradling your face like treasure, and claiming...

"Hah!" you can't help the disbelief that escapes your lips. "You, Seungcheol? A prince? What else are you going to tell me-- that I'm your starry-eyed marrier?"

He tilts his head. "I wouldn't say starry-eyed," he teases, but then his brow furrows again, and he studies your eyes. "You're truly starting to worry me. Should I call for the physician?" His eyes seem to finally adjust to the darkness of the room, and he curiously takes in the clothes you're wearing, the same ones he caught you in outside Prince Jeonghan's honeymoon quarters. "When did you change?" he asks, then lets his gaze dart over to the knife you'd abandoned on the other side of the bed. "And where did you find that?"

"You... you're actually the prince?"

Seungcheol wraps an arm around you, and the protectiveness in his eyes makes you take a sharp inhale. "Something is wrong. I'll call for the--"

"Shh!"

At the slightest sound of shuffling past the thin paper walls, you tackle Seungcheol down to the bed and cover his mouth with your palm. This is starting to feel familiar in a strange, mirror-like way.

You meet Seungcheol's eyes and whisper as quietly as possible. "You're the prince."

Despite his obvious confusion, he nods.

"And we were married yesterday?"

He nods again.

"Heaven's threads," you curse, then turn your head towards the noise outside. When you hold your breath, you're sure you hear the sounds of a quiet, restrained struggle, followed by a body being lowered to the floor.

Seungcheol pries your hand from his mouth. "Love, what's--?"

The door slides open, and a masked figure freezes in the opening, eyes wide as he registers that you're both awake. Still, his surprise doesn't last long. He pulls out his weapon, a short sword you recognize as Seungcheol's -- your Seungcheol, not the prince still holding you in his arms -- and moves so quickly you hardly have time to react.

Though Seungcheol attempts to pull you tighter into him and turn so he will take the brunt of the attack, you are just fast enough to slip from his hold. You grab your knife and send a kick straight into the intruder's chest. He falls to floor. Grabbing his wrist, you slam it against the wood and kick the sword he lets go of as far across the room as possible.

In the frenzy, you rip down the piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face, out of breath as you realize, "Prince Jeonghan?"

The man growls, but the sharp edge of your knife kissing his neck is enough to keep him still. "Who--"

You don't allow him to finish his sentence. Raising your hand, you slam the hilt of your knife into his temple, and he falls limp, eyes rolling back.

The room falls back into silence, left only with your heavy breathing and -- you look over at Seungcheol -- his, too. Through the open door, you spot the feet of whomever has taken your spot in this strange, backwards world.

"Love," Seungcheol says in a breathless exhale. "That..."

You place your hands on the floor and push yourself to your feet. Seungcheol meets you between the bed and the unconscious assassin on the floor. He wraps his arms around you.

"That was strangely the most beautiful thing I've ever--"

His words choke to a stop when he feels you press the tip of the knife into the back of his neck.

"Love," you say, voice shaking. "Take me to my sister."

#caratlibrary #.100 #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #s.coups x reader #s.coups imagines #s.coups scenarios #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⭒ how are things aligning with your specific person ??

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · king of wands (reversed), two of swords (reversed), ten of pentacles, knight of swords, the world, onyx: willpower, strength, protection.

channelled songs · jungle by cix. i like that by houston. follow you by bring me the horizon. if i’m dancing by britney spears.

my dear group one ♡ you may currently be in no contact with your sp. and while they are going on with their life, you may be holding onto them: manifesting them, getting constant readings about them, and lurking on their social media. just… obsessively being in your sps energy. 

one day, somewhat soon, you may get a wakeup call while lurking or asking around about them, as you’ll hear that they are dating someone new. or that they are serious about someone. for some, you may even hear about an engagement or see their engagement announcement.

this could lead you to spiral because you have spent so long manifesting them. because you believe there is no other person for you but them. 

your sp, however, has no ill-feelings towards you and will likely even invite you to the wedding or engagement party. put your wallowing and self-pity aside, and go! trust me! you may meet a very important person at this event. 

GROUP TWO

cards · knight of pentacles (reversed), queen of pentacles, eight of wands, justice (reversed), six of cups, sunstone: fulfillment, motivation, contentment.

channelled songs · interlude: for us by us by solange. blkdeath: by bbymutha. comflex by stray kids. on air by 3ye. 

my dear group two ♡ you may have been the one to cut contact or put distance between you and your sp. you may have chosen to do this because of their immaturity, dishonesty, or because they refused to commit to you in the way that you wanted them to commit to you. 

you have put yourself on the pedestal. you have focused on yourself entirely, to the extent that you may have even stopped manifesting or affirming for your sp. you have placed your trust in the divine entirely that things will align as they should when they should. 

because of this, things are falling into place. perfectly. your sp has been keeping their eye on you, and wants to snatch you up before someone else comes along and gets you first. reconciliation is in the cards. but not just any reconciliation, no, reconciliation with your sp basically crawling back to you. 

GROUP THREE

cards · nine of pentacles, knight of pentacles, four of pentacles, king of pentacles, the world, opal: energy, creativity, motion. 

channelled songs · blueprint by stray kids. he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother by donny hathaway. behind the wall by tracy chapman. can’t stand losing you by the police. 

my dear group three ♡ this connection with your sp requires patience and waiting. a lot of patience, and a lot of waiting. you and your sp are moving towards each other, slowly by surely. but trust me when i say that it will be slow. 

it will be years before you and your sp reconcile, years before your paths even cross again. for many of you, you may only meet again in another ten years, at a reunion event of some sort. 

between then and now, you will have both lived your lifes. fallen in and out of love. married and built lives completely separate from each other. and while you will be physically separated, you will still be connected to each other spiritually. divinely. by your red string of fate. 

you will see each other and it’s like no time at all has passed. live your life, and trust the process. 

GROUP FOUR

cards · the moon, the devil, seven of wands, eight of swords, the high priestess, hematite: grounding, solidity, composure. 

channelled songs · salvatore by lana del rey. tuesday moon by neutral milk hotel. put it on da floor again by latto & cardi b. guangling fantasia by liu fang. 

my dear group four ♡ the relationship between you and your sp may be one built upon projection. your projection. you may be projecting onto your sp and this connection, thinking that there is more here -- more between you two -- than there actually is. 

but this is why this connection causes you so much pain. this is why it causes you so much confusion. because you have built this connection up into something it is not. because you have invested more in this connection than this other person has, and thus, invested more than you should. 

things are not aligning with your sp, my dear, in fact, and in the kindest way possible, you are beating a dead horse. 

you are stressing yourself out over a deadend connection and an sp who has little regard for you. 

it’s time to look within and ask yourself why you put yourself through this for this person. it’s time to put yourself back on the pedestal. 

#** #tarot #pac #pick a card #tarotblr #witchblr #witch of color #tarotcommunity #tarotcreator #tarotonline #divination #spiritualism #spirituality #channelled message #channeled reading #channeled message #love reading #specific person

[callofdudes]

Dying in their arms - 141

CW: Death, blood, might put you in a coma.

Don't ask me why I made this... Because I have no good excuse other than I absolutely LIVE for writing angst 😌 it will be short but I intend to try and at least sadden you for even a moment.

Can be seen as romantic or platonic.

Soap 🧼

Johnny still remembers the sound. Or lack there of...

"Y/n? How copy, what are your coordinates?"

Silence.

"Y/n!! I heard heavy fire from the east, how copy?"

"Y/n answer me please!!"

Johnny rushes through an old building. He'd be searching for you for hours. Were the comms down? His insides tighten at the idea of where you were. Hopefully safe and alive.

He moves out of the house just as two military trucks pull away. "Y/n, two trucks leaving. Where are you??"

He follows the side of the building to where the trucks were and freezes

"Y/n?"

You were laying in the street. In your own blood.

"Y/N!!" Johnny runs over. His blood boiling and then freezing when he sees you. "No no no no no-"

He drops to his knees and pulls your limp body off the ground and into his arms. Blood drips from the corner of your mouth. Your eyes full of life for a mere second. Your body seems to give up when Johnny finally reaches you, and the light fades from your eyes. Your eyelids close as blood continued to pool around Johnny.

"Y/n wakeup... Y/n come on, wake up!"

He starts to shake when you don't respond. You don't open your eyes, you don't breathe. Tears swell in his eyes. "Come back..."

"Please... Open your eyes... It'll be ok..." He wheezes.

Johnny wails. heavy tears ruin his face as he sobs. "Come back- COME BAAACK!!" He screams. Pain destroys his voice and rips open his throat. He holds you tightly, trying to shake you awake.

"PleEeEase!!! Come back!" He couldn't lose you. He couldn't. Your soft features tear his big heart into shreds. His whole body quivers and shakes. The bloody wound stares at him like a monster. With teeth and fiery eyes, taking you away from him.

His hand finds his comm before he can think.

"GHOST!! Please I need backup now! PLEASE!!!!" He screams again, fingers tightening in your hair. "I can't let you go..." He hicks. "I-I can't let you go..." He runs his fingers through your hair, choking on sobs.

"Anybody!! Help me!!" His comm was empty. "Please..."

Ghost 💀

Ghost had lost sight of you. It was only for a minute.

"Alright, take it slow, don't rush, don't rush. You're so close."

"Thanks Lt. It's really great to have you at my-"

He heard a shot.

Ghost bolts up. That wasn't him. "Y/n!?"

No response.

"Y/n how copy are you safe!?"

Silence.

"Shit-! No!! No!!" He abandons his gun and runs down the embankment. His heart pounding in his chest. There you are, laying in the road. "SERGEANT!" He runs to you and falls to his knees. You were toppled sideways, a bullet clean through your head.

Simon feels the wind knocked out of him. "No... NO! No nonononono-!" He pulls you up into his arms, limp and quickly growing cold.

"Look at me. Y/n look at me..."

"LOOK AT ME!!" He yells out of desperation. "You were so close please! Come on! Wake up... Wake up please-!"

He quivers and tears start to form. "Oh God..."

"Oh please no- please come back..." He grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest. everything seems slow. His eyes are seeing you but his brain isn't catching up that this is happening. That you're gone.

He cradles your body against the back of the alley wall and looks at you.

"Come back..."

"You're ok..."

His hand drops and rests on your cheek. Pain squeezes his chest and a great weight presses against his throat. Tears swell in his eyes as he holds you tightly. "You can't go..."

He whimpers, pressing his face into your messy hair. He starts to shake violently, no longer sure what to do. If he had made it... If he had noticed the sniper maybe he could have saved you.

He rips off his mask and hugs your body as tightly as he can. "You're the only family I have left- I can't lose you! Please Y/n for me!! For me! I can't go back to them without you!!"

"We're teammates y/n please!"

"I've taken care of you as best I could. I-I treat you like my sibling, you are like family- PLEASE!! DONT DIE!"

He screams for the first time in years. His body shakes with sobs, tears streaming unprovoked down his cheeks into your hairline. "Please don't leave me alone out here..."

Gaz ⚽

You'd been hit with a bullet. Gaz pulled your arm over his shoulders and walked you to the safety of a small hut just outside of your target zone. It wasn't safe but it would have to work.

He places you down on the floor and gets down next to you. "How's the wound?" He asks.

You breathe out heavily and pull your hand away, blood squelching from your side. You groan in pain. "Not good..."

"Let me go find some proper bandages ok? I'll be right back." He takes his gun and starts to search the cabin.

You feel cold and shaky. Your eyelids are heavy and you've lost too much blood to recover from quickly. "Kyle!" You call out desperately.

He returns with a few bandages and kneels at your side. "What's up? You ok?" You take his hand and shudder, tears swelling in your eyes. "Can you hold me..?"

"Yeah, I guess, just let me bandage-" you grab his wrist. "Don't bother..."

His eyes widen. "Y/n no I need to get you out of here." You grab his vest and pull him closer, his warm body sending shivers across your own. "Take off my gear..." You whisper. Kyle doesn't hesitate, stripping you down to your t-shirt and pants.

Tears are already swelling in his eyes. "I can't- no-!"

"Hold me, Kyle."

Kyle sniffles and pulls you into his arms. You rest against his warm chest, quaking hand grabbing the hem of his shirt. he closes his arms around you and presses a short kiss to the top of your head.

"Do it... Finish the mission... For both of us ok?"

He sobs and nods. You wipe away his tears and squeeze him tightly. You slowly close your eyes and rest back against his chest.

Kyle sits there. He sits there for what feels like hours. He sobs. He wails. He screams until his insides hurt and his voice gives out.

He hugs you in his arms, begging you tell him what he did wrong. His body moves and he brings you into the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and holds your hand tightly, a shaking, sobbing mess.

Price 🥃

You had your back leaned up against a building, heaving in the darkness. Your leg was shot full of pain, twisted and broken from your fall out of a military truck and you were losing blood quickly.

"Captain..." You shudder into your comm.

"Hang on y/n, almost there. Just a little longer."

"I don't know how much longer I have..." You cough blood up onto your uniform and down your chin.

"Hang on soldier, I'm coming. I'm gonna be right there."

You drop the comms and close your eyes. It feels heavy and cold. Your own blood the only warmth against your cold tactical gear.

Price wasn't far away, you knew that. You just had to try and hang on.

Price slams on the brakes of his vehicle when he reaches you. The empty dark streets make him want to move quickly. "Come on y/n!" He rushes over and grabs you. You're bleeding beyond repair but your eyes flutter open enough to see him.

"come on, I'll carry you-!"

You cup his cheek and run your thumb over his rough skin. "John..."

"It's ok- it's going to be ok!"

You ignore him. You have little time left and so many things still to say. A tear runs down your cheek as you shudder out a final breath.

John holds onto you tightly. His hands dig into your forearms even as your hand drops away from his face and your eyes close.

"Y/n..."

He presses his forehead against yours, feeling the life leave your body. His jaw clenches and tears form in his eyes. His body shakes with rage before he starts to cry. Tears slip down his cheeks, overcome with rage and sadness.

"I'm sorry..." He hugs your neck and lays your head on his shoulder and cries. He couldn't lose you. He'd lost so many good men and women he couldn't let you die too.

"Give me one more chance... Give me one more chance I know I'll do it right-!"

He shakes, his body throwing him out of sorts. "I can't lose you all..!"

He sits there alone in the darkness. He was all alone now. No one to come back home to. All he could do was mourn your death in the darkness.

"It was an honor serving with you..." He whispers shakily. He presses a soft kiss to your temple and lays you on your side. He salutes and climbs back in his truck, the sound of enemy patrol on its way...

Hi. No, if this hurt you, I do not apologize 😊

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

[gravehags]

whatever she wants (whatever you want)

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader (x Cirrus, kind of)

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: ghoulette in heat, vibrating dildo, dewdrop is a little shit, cirrus likes to watch, squirting

Words: 2,581

Summary: You really wish there was a manual for this kind of thing.

a/n: wow it only took me 2 months to write something new lol my bad

Tagging: @anamelessfool !

~~~

You are dreaming.

Below you shimmers an expanse of clear blue water as the wind blows through your hair. Your hands thread through the long white mane of the winged horse you are currently sitting astride as you glide through the air. When your steed dips down, allowing her wing to skim along the water’s surface, you feel the cool flecks of water upon your cheeks.

You are completely oblivious to the storm that roils in bed beside you. That is, until, a soft and trembling hand finds its way to your thigh. Slowly, you are pulled from your dream, feeling the warm and wet touch of lips to your shoulder.

“Mmm…hey love,” you murmur, voice rusty. The ghoulette behind you, your brand new girlfriend, whimpers and squeezes your leg. The two of you had only just started to sleep in the same bed after deciding to take your relationship slow and you are slightly stunned at this new wakeup technique.

“Fuck, baby,” Cumulus whines in your ear before swiping her tongue along the length of your neck. It knocks the breath from your lungs and you remain paralyzed on your side, waiting for her next move. Her tail moves beneath the duvet to curl around your thigh, replacing her hand, the spade sliding along the soft inner skin. 

“Cumul–” your words are cut off from the way her hand slips under your sleep shirt, fingertips brushing at the underside of your breast. “Cumulus, what are you doing?”

“Need you,” she breathes and your thighs clench together as she thumbs at your nipple. “Need to be filled up. I-I tried taking care of it while you were asleep. Got off three times and everything but,” briefly she takes your earlobe in between her teeth before relinquishing it, “I need more.”

Oh. You had heard about the ghouls having these cycles and Cumulus briefly mentioned it - what she called her heat - in passing. But Satanas, what were you supposed to do? The two of you had barely made it to second base before this. How were you going to give your love what she needed?

Cirrus.

“Lus,” you say, carefully turning to face her. What you see takes your breath away - her pupils are blown, face flushed, and lips bleeding. You briefly entertain the image of her biting at her bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet as she fucked herself with her own fingers in bed next to you. Now you’re the one blushing and when your tongue runs along your own bottom lip as if to taste what was on hers, Cumulus’ eyes widen and a soft whine leaves her. Fucking hell, you think. Yeah, the two of you wanted to be romantic and take this whole thing slow but you’ve never wanted her more than in this moment.

Focus.

“Lus,” you start again, voice more firm. “I’m going to get Cirrus to help.”

She nods, although you’re not sure if she’s even realizing what you’re saying. Gently, and trying not to touch her and incite anything, you pry yourself from her grip and slide out of bed. Being able to fully see your form - the tattered and soft Ghost shirt you wore to bed last night and the underwear beneath it - causes Cumulus’ breathing to become heavier and you can see her hips flexing forwards underneath the covers.

“Don’t go,” she cries out, looking desperate, “please I need you.”

Your heart clenches.

“I know, love. But I can’t do this on my own okay? I promise I’ll be right back.”

You can’t look at her as you walk to the door and exit her quarters. When you shut the door behind you, you take a heaving breath.

“Oh ho ho, someone’s in for a wild ride,”

To your left, Dewdrop saunters down the hall in his pajama pants carrying a mug of coffee, smirk twisting his face.

“Wha-”

“You stink of her. Thought you two were being all cutesy and Victorian and not seeing each other naked until the wedding night.”

“Ha ha,” you growl, running your hand over your face. “Listen, which room is Cirrus’?”

His eyebrows rocket upwards as he takes a sip of his drink.

“One ghoulette not enough for you?”

“No,” you say emphatically, “I need…help.”

Dew tips his head back and laughs, a couple strands of blonde hair escaping from his bun.

“Oh man you’re really in for it. Down the hall and around the corner, first door on the left. I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” he says, winking as he passes. “Nice bloomers,” he throws over his shoulder before disappearing.

Shithead.

Tugging the hem of your shirt down over your ass, you skitter over to the necessary door and take a deep breath before knocking. Please, please, please, you plead, hands wringing, please open the door.

Satanas, it appears, does answer prayers.

When Cirrus opens the door you choke on your own spit inelegantly. She’s wearing a pair of silky black sleep shorts and a lacy bralette that hides…well…nothing. 

“Hey doll,” her voice is low and she reaches up to throw her dark hair over her shoulder and stifle a yawn. “You’re up early.”

“Cumulus is in heat,” you blurt out.

“Oh?” Cirrus’ lips curl into the same grin Dewdrop had but when she sees the clear panic on your face the smile drops. “Oh.”

“She’s…I don’t know what to do. She wants me to…is she in pain?”

Silently, Cirrus ushers you backwards and exits her room, shutting the door behind her. She’s already striding down the hall on long legs and you trail behind her nervously. When she opens the door to Cumulus’ room she nearly doubles over and takes a heaving deep breath.

“Goddamn yeah that’s a heat,” Cirrus exhales, shaking her head. “Lulu? Honey?”

Cumulus makes a sad little noise from the bed and your heart clenches. How the fuck were you going to help her?

“Here,” she peeps. She’s no longer under the covers and no longer wearing anything. Your hand jerks at your side as if you should cover your gaze and when Cirrus sees you flinch, she smiles.

“You two haven’t fucked yet have you?”

Cumulus keens and writhes on the bed, causing your jaw to fall open.

“No. We were…we were taking it slow. But I want to help her. I need to help her, I can’t leave her like this.”

“Good girl,” Cirrus purrs, and you gasp at the gush of wetness that comes out of you. Cirrus’ eyes dart to the juncture of your thighs and she grins. Walking further into the room, she goes over to Cumulus’ nightstand and opens it, rifling through the contents of the drawer. She makes a triumphant noise and slaps a large, a very large dildo with an interesting bulbous hook on the end onto the bed.

“Now where the fuck did she put the remote,” you hear her growl under her breath as she continues to sift through what you now know is Cumulus’ toy drawer. Cumulus groans, and immediately you’re by her side, hand gently on her calf. You knew she was beautiful, fuck, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen but like this she’s…radiant. Her curves undulate with her movements, breasts bouncing. Between her legs, her white curls are sopping wet as she drips onto the duvet. Your mouth goes dry and suddenly you really wish Cirrus would hurry the fuck up.

“Got it,” Cirrus says a few seconds later and you let out an exhale of relief. “Alright you. Strip.”

Dumbly, you point your finger to your chest and she gives you a look.

“Yes you.”

The eyes of both ghoulettes are on you as you tentatively slip your shirt up and over your head, flinging it to the floor. When you slide your underwear down both Cumulus and Cirrus inhale sharply, with the latter closing her eyes as if to regain her composure.

“Baby you’re beautiful,” Cumulus sighs, fingers cupping her breast and teasing the nipple, hips working in little circles. “So beautiful.”

You blush and look at your feet. This isn’t how you wanted this to go, you wanted to give Cumulus the romance she deserved but. Well. Here you are.

“Sit on the bed for me?” Cirrus says, jerking you back into the present. “And spread your legs.”

You hop on the end of the bed and with some hesitation spread your legs. Cirrus has the toy in her hand and smiles, causing your clit to throb.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, a single clawed finger tracing down your belly and through the curls between your legs. “She’s nice and wet for you Lulu.”

Cumulus lets out something between a giggle and a shriek.

“That’s…that’s my girl,” she breathes, and you don’t have to be looking at her to know she’s beaming. Cirrus, in the meantime, is idly applying lube to the bulbous end of the dildo as she stares between your legs. Finally she reaches down, spreading you apart and taking the rounded end, and presses it against your cunt. You jump at her touch and your jaw hangs as she slowly pushes your end of the dildo in. The thick intrusion has drool pooling in the corners of your mouth.

“Pretty little pussy, too,” Cirrus says with a grin. “Maybe you’ll be nice and share her afterwards.”

“Mmm…yes,” Cumulus practically sings, “would you like that, baby?”

You barely have time to let out an affirmative moan before Cirrus pulls you up and arranges you on your knees in between your lover’s legs. When Cumulus sees the thick length jutting out from you she lets out a euphoric laugh. She looks so…so…divine. So fucking gorgeous. Breaking from Cirrus’ grip you push forwards to slot your lips against Cumulus’. Her hands are in your hair instantly as you lick into her, one hand cupping her inflamed cheek. You don’t even notice as Cirrus settles into a chair in the corner, watching the two of you with narrowed, intrigued eyes. Cumulus pulls you from her lips for a moment and you take the opportunity to latch onto her neck, littering her decolletage with purple bruises. The dildo is stretching you wonderfully as your lips trail down to her breasts.

“Mmm fuck honey, you gonna suck my tits?”

You’ve never heard Cumulus be so vulgar before and you clench around the toy inside you. Rather than answer, you swipe your tongue over her nipple and suckle at the bud while her claws scratch at your scalp. She whines when you pull off one but when you latch onto the other breast, teeth grazing her nipple she’s purring again. Your hips jerk upwards, the tip of the dildo brushing at her entrance and she cries out.

“Need you, need you, need you,” she chants, pulling your face back up to her until your mouths are a breath away. “Need you inside me, fuck, wanna watch you cum.”

“This isn’t about me,” you breathe with a smile, kissing her gently.

“No,” Cirrus says from her corner, causing you to jump. You had forgotten she was even in the room. “It’s not, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to forget about you.”

In her right hand she holds something up.

The remote.

With a flick of her thumb you choke out a whine. The end of the dildo inside of you begins vibrating steadily, reverberating against your clit and suddenly you’re filled with the need to fuck your girlfriend now. Shaking, you pull back onto your knees and spread Cumulus apart, making her keen beneath you, murmuring something over and over you can’t hear. She’s so fucking wet and you can’t bring yourself to tease her any longer. Slowly you fill her, the tension in her body slipping away as you bury yourself to the hilt inside her. You pause with a heavy exhale, hunched over her and hair hanging in your face when the vibrations inside you increase.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Cirrus commands from her throne, “fuck her.”

You nod vigorously, not needing to be told twice as you pull out and slam back into her. Cumulus’ hands are on you, fingers clawing at your hips as you rut into her dripping cunt, driving yourself deeper and deeper every time. Suddenly inspired, you sit back and pick Cumulus’ legs up to place them heavy on your shoulders. Cirrus actually lets out a laugh and claps as you pump into the ghoulette beneath you. To award you for your initiative, Cirrus ratchets up the vibrations to the highest they’ll go and you’re panting as you grip your lover’s ankles. When Cumulus’ moans become pitchy, you know you’ve hit the right spot and a smile cracks your face even as sweat drips down your temples. 

“Gonna make you cum,” you say, looking at Cumulus with a cocky grin, “gonna make you fucking soak the sheets.”

Cirrus is saying something to you, something lewd you think, but when the vibrations hit your swollen clit just right you cum with a shout, hips continuing to jerk violently. When Cumulus cums her scream is exaltant, meeting you thrust for thrust as she drenches the bedcovers. You don’t even notice the vibrations have stopped as you continue to push into her until firm hands on your shoulders still you. With something between a sigh and a sob, you pull out and lean back into Cirrus’ embrace, eyes sliding shut.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, pushing your sweaty hair aside to place a kiss on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “You did so well. Look at her. You both look so beautiful.”

Cumulus is beneath you, looking up at you as if you hung the moon. Weakly, she reaches up to beckon you to her, a beatific expression on her face. Angelic, you would say if you didn’t know any better. Gently, Cirrus reaches around you and eases the dildo out of you before guiding you backwards and off the bed.

“Come on, pet,” Cirrus brings you to the side of the bed and pulls the covers back. Cumulus shifts over and finagles herself under the sheets, welcoming you into her embrace. Her temperature is back to being blissfully cool and she pulls you in.

“How do you feel?” you ask, still slightly out of breath, fingers toying with one of her white curls.

“Better. For now. Thank you, my love.”

Cirrus watches the two of you silently before lightly clearing her throat.

“Rest well, lovebirds,” she says with a smile, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, then Cumulus before whispering in your ear, “You’re a keeper.”

“Thanks, coach,” you grin sleepily and she briefly scratches at your scalp with fondness.

She slips out the door and the two of you are left to catch your breath. When you sigh contentedly, your girlfriend turns to you.

“You didn’t hear what I said earlier, did you?”

You frown slightly and open your eyes.

“No I…I don’t think so. I was kind of caught up in the uh…moment.”

She giggles and reaches a hand up to trace your features.

“I’ll repeat myself then. I love you.”

She loves you. She loves you.

“You what?” you say stupidly, and she snorts and places her thumb firm on your bottom lip.

“You heard me. Now be a lamb and say it back.”

You don’t need to be told twice. When you dream of the water again, she is with you.

#cumulus x reader x cirrus #cumulus x reader #cumulus x f!reader #cumulus ghoulette #nameless ghoulettes #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[joels6string]

you’re a genius and your plot and world-building skills are next level. i’m truly such a fan girl you have no idea 👉🏼👈🏼

i’m politely begging you for a joel miller ANYTHING with prompts 2, 35, 41, and 44. all the sweetness and whatever else you think it deserves! i trust you wholeheartedly with all of P’s characters 🤍 thank you so much for sharing your gift with all of us!!

Stop it...thank you so much. I appreciate you very much💜 Oh goodness, don't trust me with all of them lol. Ezra, you're a gem, but we don't vibe 😂 I was also politely begging for anything Joel Miller so I'll literally happily oblige. Actual loml. I also thoroughly appreciate the subtle shout-out to Buckley the dog. I made a shitty gif and everything for it. I'm fairly certain I'm the only one who likes slow-burning shit like this 😂 but hey, I hope someone else enjoys it too.

Illegible

Joel Miller x f!reader

"Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"//"Stop laughing at me."//"You need some sleep."//"I'm only here for the dog."

Word Count: 3.5k Content: Buckley the dog in all his goodest boy glory, flirting with Joel Miller is like romancing a very handsome brick wall, fluff, mutual crush, two hopeless morons, matchmaker Maria to the rescue, first kiss

Farming rotation had always been your favorite assignment. It was rigorous, exhausting, and the pre-dawn wakeups were less than desirable, but there was something soothing about it. People mostly kept to themselves here, just asking for a hand when needed, and damn if this job didn’t feel useful. Food you’d worked for months to grow fed this whole damn town, and if that wasn’t something to be proud of, nothing was.

Maria knew you preferred it here in the greenhouses, being friendly with her certainly had its perks, too. Your gate patrols had become minimal, the shotgun almost felt foreign in your hands now when you had to head up atop the walls and survey the wilderness for threats from infected and hunters alike. 

It was another early morning, an eerie gray seeping through your thin curtains and rain dripping down the windows ahead of your fieldwork, a heady sigh leaving your lips as you slipped the rubber boots that were two sizes too big onto your feet. But even on days like today, you didn’t mind the work. Sure, the soil would be heavier soaked and your clothes would be clinging to your skin within the hour, but it sure as hell beat fighting for your life outside these walls.

It had been a miracle you’d stumbled across a patrol team a few months back, scared and alone. The vetting was brutal and the townsfolk were wary of the newcomer for weeks after your arrival. But you’d earned their trust through your hard work and willingness to do what was needed. You were a damn fine cook, too, and that went a long way.

By the time noon hit, the rain hadn’t slowed at all. You were shivering despite the exertion, the warmth of the pub calling your name even if it would only be for the hour allotted for your lunch. The cover of the plastic enclosures had done little to keep you dry with how many times you’d gone in and out, the humidity the plants needed keeping you thoroughly damp and chilled. You were finishing your final task, your hands quivering too much for the precision you needed, 

“You look cold,” a Texas drawl chuckled from behind you, “Why are you out in the rain anyway? Can’t this wait?”

“You tell me, boss,” you replied with a grin, your gaze shooting back over your shoulder to see Tommy Miller, his faithful companion Buckley at his side.

“It can wait til it’s dry. Come on.”

The Millers–Tommy and Maria–were good friends, but Tommy’s brother Joel, while revered in the town, was someone you hadn’t had much contact with, not anything of merit anyway. That was an avoidance of your own creation, your thoughts dizzying into idiocy when you were in his presence for more than a few minutes. It was shameful. But it was thankfully easy to maintain. He mostly kept to himself in his big house by the cemetery, his job solely a patrolman thanks to his exceptional skills with just about every weapon under the sun and his proficiency at what some of the town referred to as “extermination.” Joel could kill anything and not bat an eye, and everyone knew it, too. 

“Dinner at our place tonight,” Tommy offered after walking you past the pub and to your front door, “Maria is cooking, but if you wanted to maybe come a little early and make those sweet potatoes, you won’t find a soul complainin’ and I got a basket full.”

“Well, you did get me out of the rain,” you answered, waving goodbye as your body ached for a warm shower and dry clothes.

By three o’clock you were knocking on Tommy’s door and none other than Joel greeted you as it swung open after a single knock, a mug of coffee being swallowed whole by his hand.

“Joel…” you gasped, his hazel eyes widening at the sight of you.

“Tommy said you were comin’,” he muttered, you couldn’t tell if it was just to himself, your stomach flipping just like it had every other time you’d been this close to him.

Joel was tall and broad, his thick gray hair almost brushing his brow and an equally lush and silvered beard covering his jaw and cheeks. Heat flushed your face beneath his gaze–typical–the reason for your stark evasion of the man coming to full fruition here and now. He’d caught your eye long before you knew who he was, not that you’d ever even considered acting on this ridiculous little crush. You were too old for this anyway, and Joel, well, he’d never once acted like he wanted to be bothered by anyone’s attention much less your own. There’d been many shared functions and yet you’d still never graduated past pleasantries, your quick escape plans always being enacted before you could reach the next stage of conversation.

“Are you gonna let her in or leave her to soak?!” you heard Tommy yelling from somewhere in the house, Joel’s obvious alarm from being shaken from whatever mental space he’d gone to playing out too charmingly on his face for you to deny giggling at.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes on the floor as he stepped aside, the sack of spices and honey you’d brought to prep your dish jostling in your arms, “I’ll–let me,” he offered, the way his fingers brushed against the back of your hand had goosebumps erupting across your skin making you thankful for the cover of your sweater.

“Thanks,” you gasped, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic to his ears as it did to your own.

Long strides had him well ahead of you on your way to the kitchen and you took full advantage to shake off the effects of Joel Miller’s studious gaze before joining the group, you didn’t need anyone getting any ideas.

“Welcome!” Tommy greeted almost too exuberantly, “Joel here said he’ll help you with whatever you need to get started.”

“What?” Joel interjected quietly to himself between Tommy’s words, his hands falling to his hips showcasing toned forearms straining against the rolled sleeves of his flannel.

“Anything at all.”

Clearly, something else was at play. With Tommy and Maria barely able to contain their fits of giggles, Joel’s brow knit in confusion, and you standing dumbfounded with Buckley sitting dutifully at your side it looked like something straight out of the sitcoms that had died decades ago. And somehow it felt like you were the butt of the joke.

“Why are you staring like that?” Maria pressed, “You said you wanted to get better at cooking, You’re reading those books. Time to put it into practice.”

“It’s fine,” you finally found the courage to speak, “I can do it.”

“What do you need help with?” Joel resigned with a sigh, turning to the sink to scrub his hands clean. That was a good start.

“No, you don’t have to–”

“Peel these,” Maria instructed, pushing the bowl of sweet potatoes she’d gotten out his way, “Let’s see if you’re as good with a knife on root vegetables as you are Clickers. Hmm?”

“Well, ain’t you funny this evening,” Joel grumbled, snatching the knife to his left and beginning work on his task. 

You almost felt bad for him, watching him struggle to catch only the skin and not the orange flesh beneath it, his tongue clicking in disappointment at himself with every swipe too deep and dropped peel. It was so endearing, Buckley’s little whines matching the way pity had set a breeze on the butterflies that had taken flight in your belly

“Stop laughing at me,” Joel finally snapped after Maria and Tommy’s little snickers had gone on for too long, the knife slamming onto the counter in frustration.

“Let me help you,” you offered, rushing over and plucking the tool from beneath his palm and showing him your technique, his eyes attentive as he watched and listened.

When dinner was served, you took the seat beside him, your appetite whisked away from hours of nervous fidgeting and stolen glances. What you did manage to force down was delicious, but you were more concerned about the reception of your dish from one guest at the table than you were about judging what was on your own plate.

“So,” Maria began after everyone’s forks had started to slow, “I saw you and Gabe hitting it off at work the other day.” What on Earth was she doing? “He’s nice. Good head on his shoulders, competent, great carpenter.”

“Oh,” you stammered, a nervous laugh flitting free, “No, I…I just work with him.”

“I need to get goin’,” Joel announced suddenly, his chair loudly scraping against the floor as he cleared his plate in the kitchen, Buckley getting a pat on the head before he bid everyone a gracious thank you and goodbye for the evening, your nerves settling immediately as soon as the door clicked closed.

After a night of tossing and turning at the replay of the embarrassment of your interactions from the evening, you were back in the greenhouses in much more suitable weather the following day, Maria and Buckley on site to help with the harvesting from half the crops. Gabe had been assigned your partner, something you assumed was no accident after Maria’s prying last night, her quest to get you saddled in with a “nice guy” in full swing.

“Long day, huh?” Gabe chirped from beside you, chest heaving after another heavy load of produce was dropped into the back of the truck, “You doing all right?”

“Yeah,” you answered, keeping your eyes straight ahead on your task, “busy.”

“Lunch!” Maria bellowed, “Let’s go, everyone! No exceptions!”

There went your hopes of skipping the congregated, shared hour in favor of hiding behind the greenhouses for a moment of reprieve. Gabe walked you to the grouping of tables, the citizens of Jackson having banded together to give the farming group a grateful lunch for their labors, a sentiment you should have appreciated but found yourself loathing at the moment. You were too tired, too agitated, and entirely too distracted.

“Joel…” Maria sang knowingly as if she’d been expecting him despite his presence never once having graced the workspace before, “What a surprise.”

“Tommy around? He ran off soon as we passed the gate,” he grunted fresh off patrol, his t-shirt screaming around his biceps ready to tear and his pack equipped with more weapons than you’d ever seen on one person strapped to his back; you couldn’t look away, “Who’s this?” 

“Him? Oh, that’s Gabe.”

Why was his face falling? Were you imagining things? His eyes flicked from you back to the man beside you, a hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his head as he repeated the inspection once again.

“That so?” he drawled, “Never heard of ya.”

Well, that was a lie, and the way Gabe’s face fell that the famed Joel Miller didn’t know he existed, despite the fact that he most certainly did, only seemed to add a little glimmer to Joel’s eye as he watched him scamper off dejected. It was a little cruel, but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you tried to decipher what the hell situation you were standing in the middle of.

“Wait a minute… Are you jealous?” Maria asked tauntingly, your face falling in horror at the blatant accusation made on what you knew was your behalf.

“I beg your pardon?” Joel barked, and you had to hand it to Maria for never being intimidated because if you were on the receiving end of the expression currently staring her in the face you’d have cowered into the nearest corner like a mouse being pursued by a cat.

“It’s a simple question.” “I’m only here for the dog.”

Buckley yapped right on cue as Joel bent over to scratch his ear, Maria’s eyes rolling at one of the most pitiful excuses she’d ever heard in her life, especially from a grown  man. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she groaned.

"You need some sleep, Maria. You're gettin' delusional," he nagged as he stood, following after her as she stormed off towards the tables.

Maria’s question plagued you throughout the week. You hadn’t seen Joel again, but that didn’t stop your brain from spiraling with the hope that maybe she was right. Replaying the brief interactions you’d had with him led you nowhere, the man was entirely illegible, his face a stoic…handsome…mask and his random appearances too few to interpret but also too coincidental to be a coincidence. 

During another dinner alone on the old futon you’d scavenged, a soft knock on your door had you ready to duck under your table and hide until whoever it was left. It had to be Gabe, maybe Maria, but your frayed nerves had already had their fill of human interaction for the week, you wanted two days holed up in your little cabin with your books. Was that too much to ask?

“You home?” a gruff, deep voice called out, a timbre that did not belong to Gabe or Maria. 

Joel. That had you racing to the point you were tripping over your feet, catching him just as he’d begun to descend the three steps leading up to your front door.

“Joel!” you called out too loud, his demeanor unaffected by your outburst.

“Hi,” he greeted cautiously, “Maria told me your backdoor was broken, wanted me to come look at it.”

Your backdoor was not broken. Never had been. However, if you told him that he would leave, but he should leave because he didn’t need to be here…

“It ain’t broken, is it?” he resigned, the answer clearly written on your face.

“No,” you sighed, disappointment carving a hole out of your chest and hollowing it fast enough to have your lungs depleting.

“Well, if it’s all right with you I’ll check anyway. Can’t ever be too careful.”

The thorough inspection he gave your old wooden door surprised you knowing he’d discovered the ruse before stepping foot inside your house, and he did indeed find a few screws that needed tightening. You offered him a coffee that he gratefully accepted, the last of the grounds you’d traded for last month enough for two cups you sat around the small round table in your kitchen to enjoy as the crickets began to chirp outside the windows.

“Thank you,” you erupted, your voice too loud, too excited, his little chuckle confirming he could sense your school girl nervousness.

“Welcome,” that smooth, Texas twang settled in your stomach, pressing downward in the most forbidden of ways, “You know if you need a carpenter–”

“Oh no. I don’t.”

“Right. Okay.”

Wait, that was rude. He was about to offer help and you’d cut him off. His eyes hadn’t left the brown, murky depths swimming in the pink mug you’d given him, his shoulders slumped, chin to his chest.

“If I do though, I’ll let Maria know to tell you–”

“You can just…knock on my door. If I ain’t out on patrol, I’m home.”

“Oh. Sure.”

It felt like your entire body was vibrating, sweat was beading on your brow and it wasn’t a result of the hot coffee you were drinking. He seemed just as tense, you could see his knee bouncing beneath the table and you were desperate to know if it was nerves or simply his way of tolerating the less-than-ideal situation he’d found himself in. But that required a courage you didn’t think you’d ever be able to muster.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he announced after a moment of silence that had dragged on too long, “Let me know if that door needs tweakin’ again.”

Every nerve in your body lit up with the desire to keep him there, your hand involuntarily shooting out and gripping around his wrist as you leapt to your feet less than a second after he rose, fingers barely meeting around the sheer girth of it. Your stomach dropped to the floor when his head whipped around and his stony stare locked on wear your skin met, his lips slightly agape and brow furrowed. You were panting, not caring how it looked or whatever he was assuming, he was probably right. It was time to admit that.

“Are you hungry?” you asked meekly, listing the ingredients you knew you had off in your head to try and come up with a dish you could prepare, forgetting that your half-eaten dinner still sat on the small table beside the sofa.

“I could eat,” he replied barely above a whisper, his eyes shooting over to that very spot. You should have anticipated that level of perception.

“I’ll make you something.”

“If it’s too much trouble–”

“No!”

Now this was getting embarrassing. Your voice was quivering, breath ragged, your brain reminding you it had been more years than you’d like to admit since you’d had a man in any capacity, and it wasn’t like that was beyond a quick release of tension. 

“Calm down, darlin’,” he comforted warily, the pet name hitting you square in the chest, “I ain’t gonna hurt ya…”

That was where his mind had gone? This situation was worse than one you could have ever doomed yourself to in your mind. He thought you were afraid of him? Well, in a way you were, but not the way he was assuming. Your tongue was paralyzed as your brain screamed to fix the situation, your fingers unknowingly tightening around his wrist.

“I know that,” you quaked, “I didn’t think…you would.”

“Okay. Good,” he sighed, tapping your white-knuckling hand with his free pointer finger, “That’s startin’ to hurt, ya know.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!”

Balling your fists at your chest, you retreated backward until you hit the kitchen counter, completely overwhelmed and embarrassed, wondering how in the hell you dug yourself out of this hole or if you’d be needing to find another settlement to move to. You couldn’t look him, Maria, or Tommy in the eye after this. You could just go on patrol and never come back, not like anyone would come looking for you when they found out what a fool you’d made of yourself. 

“Is Maria right?” he asked softly, his tone gentle and relaxed, “I can’t read this shit.”

“What?” you choked, his eyes taking on a warm glow you’d never seen on him before, it made him look younger and somehow even more endearing.

Nonchalantly, almost annoyed, he waved his hand between the two of you, your eyes widening in shock at his question before his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps stealing your attention so brazenly it had a wheezing laugh breaking free from a bright smile.

“That a yes?” he chuckled, eyeing you through his lashes mischievously.

“Um…” you stammered, did he really just think you were going to admit it so openly?

“S’okay if it is.”

The nod you gave him was barely discernible, but he understood, the corner of his mouth stretching up toward his eye as he took a step forward, then another, and then another until his arms were caging you in as they braced on the counter behind you, the smell of pine wood and leather hitting your senses like a tsunami.

“Joel…” 

“Hmm?”

“It’s been a really long time…”

“Yeah. Me too.”

His lips were softer than you expected them to be, plush and silky as they pressed to yours nervously, his beard prickling your skin a sensation you hadn’t felt in too damn long. When he pulled away you sought him out again, following his mouth as your fingers fisted into his shirt, your cue being followed as he came back harder, more intentionally, his nose pressing to your cheek when you pulled him in deeper, a muffled whine hitting him and eliciting one of his own.

“I um–” you began when you broke for air.

“Shh,” he soothed, feeling your fingers tightening in his shirt nervously again, “You don’t need to talk. I can stop, or I can keep goin’. Your call.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth you relaxed, one of your hands releasing his shirt to slide up into his hair, his groan of approval hitting the back of your throat as you opened up to him completely. You barely needed time to learn one another, your mouths finding a fluid rhythm of give and take quickly. His hands felt so good settled easily on your hips, the lack of desperation in his grip a testament to his self-control, something you were clearly lacking as you pulled yourself in closer, tugging on his hair hard enough to sting. If it did he either didn’t mind or purely enjoyed it, not even a flinch settling across his features as he devoured you. 

He stopped you when your hands shot to his belt, arousal and desire having taken your wheel within seconds of this all beginning.

“Not tonight,” he breathed, “much as I want to. I do have standards.”

“Which are?” you inquired, enjoying the way his nose was nuzzling against your cheek.

“At least one damn date. I am a gentleman, after all.”

“Well, let’s just go to the pub now and get it out of the way.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I can do that.”

Part 2: Into Focus

I did not proofread this. I apologize and own any terrible typos.

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller

[strangerquinns]

Dylan O'Brien Concept/Blurbs

SMUT(18+)

new look; dylan o’brien

morning sun; dylan o’brien

bathtub fun; dylan o’brien

wakeup call; dylan o’brien

friends with benefits; stiles stilinski

first time in months; dylan o’brien

party; dylan o’brien (part two)

apart; dylan o’brien

night-out; dylan o’brien

dirty text; dylan o’brien

hard and deep; dylan o’brien

high; dylan o’brien

breaking the rules; dylan o’brien

slow and hazy; dylan o’brien

“use me”; dylan o’brien

in charge; dylan o’brien

happy birthday; dylan o’brien

four months; mitch rapp

strangers in a bar; dylan o’brien

baby making; dylan o’brien

interview; dylan o’brien

smoking; dylan o’brien

shower fun; dylan o’brien

morning; stiles stilinski

good night; dylan obrien

good girl; stiles stilinski

FLUFF

sacred romance prompt: first date

dinner for two; dylan o’brien

a third; dylan o’brien

birthday boy; dylan o’brien

love of my life; dylan o’brien

movie night make-out (smut-ish); dylan o’brien

family; mitch rapp

crush; stiles stilinski

NYC tourist day: dylan o’brien

the first moment; dylan o’brien | i love you, too (part two)

on the streets of New York; dylan o’brien

drunk snuggles; dylan o’brien

happiness; stiles stilinski

potentially romantic prompt; gaze; dylan o’brien

early morning cravings; dylan o’brien

dive bar; dylan o’brien

stay in bed; dylan o’brien

newborn; dylan o’brien

forehead kisses; dylan o’brien

sneaking in; stiles stilinski

tongue tied; mitch rapp

mother nature; dylan o’brien

little white chapel; dylan o’brien

mother nature; dylan o’brien

“mommy, mine!”; dylan o’brien

terrible plan; stiles stilinski

Halloween fun; dylan o'brien

ANGST

need you close; stiles stilinski

the target; mitch rapp

proposed confession; dylan o’brien

one year anniversary; stiles stilinski | part two

jealousy; stiles stilinski | part two

potentially romantic prompts: catch; stiles stilinski

friends with benefits; dylan o’brien

“because I love you,”; stiles stilinski

“hold me”; stiles stilinski

a year in the dark; stiles stilinski

five years later; dylan o’brien

“will i ever recover?”; dylan o’brien (deleted by accident)

“by your side”; dylan o’brien

OTHER (NO THEME)

jealous; dylan o’brien

tied-up; void!stiles

pillow fort; stiles stilinski

red-carpet; dylan o’brien 

sleepover; stiles stilinski

baby; dylan o’brien

thanksgiving dinner; dylan o’brien

pda; dylan o’brien

mending and distracting; dylan o’brien | part two

shining armor prompt: (kill); void!stiles

Oblivious Lovers Prompt Night

Best Friends Brother

The Kiss

Void!Stiles

Perfect

Adore

imagines + mini-series masterlist

blurbs/concepts page two

#lets see if this masterlist will stay intacks #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x female reader #dylan obrien x you #dylan obrien x y/n #dylan obrien concept #dylan obrien blurb #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien fanfiction #dylan obrien fanfic

[milknhonies]

A Lesson in Service

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Your evening becomes a nightmare with the Lord of Radier Manor. He is a starved fox looking to ruin your sweet bunny cunny.

Pairing: Lord!Henry Dalgliesh x Governess!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Non-Con, Blackmail, Abuse, Assault, P in V sex, Loss of Virginity, Gag. Petnames "Bunny, Rabbit."

Word Count: 9k

Author Notes: This was a doozy to write...please I beg you read the warnings. It'll be a whole until I can post another chapter from this story again unfortunately I'm behind and I have a lot of stress going on in my life.

Inspiring Song: "Sippy Cup." By Melanie Martinez

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9th April 22:55 pm.

As your body collapsed at his feet, the pain the sky rocketed your body surged over and melted into the comforts of a soft pillow and mattress.

You were in the place between dreamland and wakeup, knowing you’re asleep but unaware of how to wake up or if you’re even meant to wake-up. You felt warm. The sound of a crackling fire was by your right side. The smell of the embers burning tickled your nose.

With all your strength your groggily opened your eyes and for a moment winced at the orange light of a fireplace. Your eyes felt impossibly slow and sore. The room blurred for a few moments before you fluttered away the awakening blindness and focused on the world around you. You couldn’t see everything in the room, many shadows loomed far in the distance.

You were laying down on a magnificent canopy bed with long draping curtains and the ceiling covered in paintings of swans and gardens and lakes. There was an every feeling creeping into you.

Your heart thudded in panic.

‘This is NOT my room.’

The beating of your heart drummed in your chest as you caught some air in your chest. Nausea penetrated your belly. With a poor attempt to sit up and use the under bed chamber pot, your body refused to move far. A sharp and stinging pain made you glance at your wrists either side of your head. You squinted at the material wrapped around your skin, digging into your flesh. Rope.

Your eyes widened.

With a better glance down, you gasped in horror. Not a single stitch of clothing was to be found on your body. Your legs had been spread wide and tied down to the mattress by your ankles and knees.

A loud whimper that broke into a quick sob escaped you.

You could feel the warm air from the fire place against the most intimate flesh of your exposed cunt. You tried to desperately shut your legs but the rope would not give in. Hot tears rushed down your face.

You tugged on your wrists and legs as hard as you could. Finally you began to scream.

From the shadows flew out a large pale hand that clambered down on your mouth and muffled your voice.

You recoiled in fright as the light of the fireplace beside the bed revealed the face of the Earl who wore a well spread grinning smile. He sat beside you on the bed and loomed above. For a split second you believed he was helping you, saving you from this strange bound arrangement that you were trapped in. Yet the hope lasted shortly as remembering what has happened in the drawing room came back to your mind.

You didn’t know how nor why but you knew with your intuition he had done this. You visualised that truth quickly.

His heated eyes matched his wide feral grin in a sinister yellow light. His soft thumb rubbed underneath your crying eyes, smoothing out the wetness along your cheeks. His curly hair was far messier than it was when the two of you had met.

You flinched and whined pitifully trying to shake his hand off your mouth.

He looked like a beast and you were a delicate feast for him to feed upon.

“Poor little girl,” he sarcastically worried, clucking his tongue he started to stroke your neck gently with his other hand, “Look at you, entirely powerlessness, tied up in a trap like a silly little country bunny abbit. You’re just a sweet innocent girl, yes?” Henry obnoxiously laughed at his own joke..

Helplessly confused, more waterworks spilled. Henry ripped out a handkerchief from his banyan pocket and forced the fabric into your mouth and fingered it down to the back of your mouth near your throat. You tried shaking your face away, but he held you down by pressing on your forehead. You gagged and coughed while the linen soaked in your spit choked and irritated your tongue by its plain taste.

It was impossible to spit out, your tongue was being pressed down by its amount and thus you couldn’t curl your tongue back and push it out.

You screamed behind the gagged helplessly.

‘This nightmare is unbearable! This cannot be real!’

Your conniving employer surveyed your flesh again and ran his hand down your naked stomach to your thighs and purposely missing what was between them. His hand felt like hot fire spreading around your sensitive skin. Your face was hot, he was looking at the parts of you that you hid with great conservativeness in your governess uniform gown.

His night gown stripped away you saw beneath was nothing, no night shirt or blouse, just a heavenly torso which god had blessed him and the world with.

For a man who supposedly sat in his study all day mulling over paperwork, his physique was moulded by gods’ angels. His skin glowed gold beneath the hue haze of the fireplaces light. And light shade of soft hairs centred his chest Ieading down his belly to his pelvis. A small thatch of hair bordered a thick red piece protruding from him. His cock.

Yoi whined loudly in terror as he climbed onto the bed and over the top of your tied up body. His thighs knelt between your knees. His movement and grace were so perfectly fluid, his protruding middle muscles with his strong hunt for your body. You begged for him to stop, but the gag did all but muffled your howling fears.

You may have been innocent of relations between men and women, but it was well aware what his lordships apparent intentions were. He was about to abuse you, rape you, take you in the ways of the laws of marriage. You were to be soiled! You were to be ruined from any hope of being a proper bride to a future husband.

Anxiety drastically rose in your chest that panted desperately.

You pleaded from your cloth stuffed mouth, “please my Lord, please, you must not do this! I am a virgin of god,” tears slid freely down your face.

 ‘Don’t hurt me, please stop sir!’

You felt faint but this time you didn’t go under the pressure of unconsciousness. Your body thrusted and tugged at all your tethers. You were losing hope quickly of your escape and so overwhelmed with shock and fear you didn’t know what else to do except sob and beg him to stop this humiliation.

You prayed, ‘what have I done to be so foully punished lord? Help me and aid my freedom quickly!!’

“Hush, hush my little girl ,” Henry placed a finger against his lips to signify the silence he requested, “My apologies for such an unexpected event. It’s just…when I first met you yesterday in my study, your cheeks were such a pretty shade and I wondered how that same colour would look on your little arse. And really, when you bowed before me like a silly chicken- I couldn’t help but imagine my cock between your quim whiskers. By God I was afraid my cock would grow right then and there."

His hands crawled like a spider down to your treasure of untouched purity. A squeal jumped from your lungs and through your gag as his fingers delved into your folds.

Leaning over and softly murmuring into your ear, Henrys warm breath tickled your sensitive skin, “Miss Y/L/N, I do find myself at a stand point where I am madly fascinated and curious of your sweet body. My desire grows with every little noise you make. I am dearly looking forward to when I get to shove my cock right up into this little cunt.”

And as he said it, his forefinger cramped its way inside of your, his first knuckle not pushing any further as Henry gasped. The lord had discovered your thin lining of skin that hailed you as pure as any infant of lust might be. Virginity was going to be his prized.

You weakly lifted your head, and you stared fearfully into his glittering soulless eyes, “Just relax, little bunny. You'll be alright, the more you squirm the more you might bleed.”

You froze as his tongue began to lick and suck at your chest and neck.

“stop it! You must stop it!!! Please! Lord Henry no!!” you squealed beneath the gag.

The vile man stopped his administrations on your neck and applied his heated lips to your face. Not being able to kiss you properly without removing the gag, Henry resorted to the softest kisses to your lips and corner of your mouth. The intimacy of being kissed in such a manner shocked you to your core, it was terribly taboo.

‘What am I saying? Everything is bloody Taboo!’

You drew in a shaky breath when he finally abandoned your mouth to lick along your jaw, and he found the vulnerable skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Pulling out his finger from your tiny cunt he watched your body collapse into the bed; the stress was exhausting and your tensing body gave in. His hand pawed through your soft curls above and around your bits.

You moaned and cried a little more as you witnessed Henry suck the same finger he had shoved into you. His dark eyes rolled to the back off his head while he grabbed at his stiff erection.

You felt weak by the sight. In a book about human anatomy, the males’ appendage was not that shape, length or thickness.

You squeaked in fear, hating yourself for being so weak and so scared of him. Your mind felt so heavy with any plan you could devise on how to fight him or convince him to stop. You attempted to beg for his mercy again but he just cruelly smirked.

Jerking your head up, you gave him the sweetest eyes. Tears cupped in the wells of your lashes as your nose sniffled. You shook your gag covered head, “please.”

Henry sighed pleasingly as his fingers wrapped around his cock moved up and down. He was absolutely looking forward to hurting you, to taking away your innocence and to owning you. He bit his lips with a slight smile.

‘How precious, she doesn’t even know the real reason her father’s friend had sent her to Radier Manor? Colin you cruel wicked bastard!’ Henry scoffed internally and purred to his darling damsel in distress as his hand removed itself from his cock to cradle you intimately again. His fingers spread the lips of your mound wide to reveal all the folding petals of your sweet smelling virgin flower.

“Awe now look at that, my pretty little girl , puffy and unmaimed, just so sweet.” Your eyes widened.

Henry had considered giving you a taste of pleasure by a few simple rubs but thought against it,

‘Why should I give her pleasure? This is for my enjoyment, not her. I’ll just fuck her dry.’

Your head rolled back and forth on the pillow as you pleaded, but Henrys attention was now solely centred on the soft folds between your legs. He pushed any troubling doubts to the side and grabbed hold of his eager, dripping cock, blood pounding wildly in his ears.

Henry launched his body onto of yours. You begged and wheezed out to him to release you but he would not.

Dimly aware he was panting with animalistic desire, he allowed pure the beastly lust to take control. He aligned his well crafted cock between your nether lips surrounded by a cuckoo’s nest. Spreading the shiny beads of moisture leaking from the head, the lord slid his shaft back and forth over your entrance. You squirmed and whined and fidgeted as the skin of his blunt tip rested lazily ontop of your entrance.

For one last time, you, the kind governess of the Dalgliesh children begged with tears in your eyes and mucus forming in your nose, “Mercy, please don’t hurt me!”

“Hush child,” Henry whispered with his deep voice and slowly embedded himself inside of you.

You yelled out at the invasion.

‘Pain, oh god please make it stop, make him stop!!’

He lowered his mouth to your face, breathing in your sweat as he down right raped your tied up body, thrusting into your pussy harder, trying to get deep down.

You choked and gasped and reared up beneath him as his pelvis touched your thighs, while your spine curled upright to the heavens with the agonising discomfort of his penetration. Your chest heaved up and down as your body trembled from the erupting pain. His sharp finger nails dug into your hips which he grasped, keeping you firmly still.

‘This is wrong!!’

‘Have mercy!’

You were overwhelmed by the violent assault he was taking out on you physically. Never before had you imagined this was the awful torture women would suffered beneath their husbands.

‘Had his wife endured such pain…twice for the children!?’

The raw cutting into your hole, cutting up the ruins of your maiden head was an invasion into your whole soul being. Your heaving chest let loose a gut retching wail, after holding your breath too long.

Your tear flooded eyes squinted in hatred and disgust at him. The gag around your cheeks loosened and fell down your chin. Your crying was continued as you screamed at him “I hate you! Die you monster! Stop it!”

Henry however only laughed and slapped you across the face. It was not a particularly hard slap, but it stung.

The blood rushed into your cheek that was covered in salty release of sadness. Sliding deeper with every stroke, he released your hip to grip your jaw and hiss sharply into your ear, “You feel so bloody good whore, you’re nothing but a nice warm quim to shove my cock in,” he thrusted in deeper,

You yelled wordlessly in anger while Henry cackled with every pounding, “You’re my. Tight. Little. Rabbit.”

You were now coming to the stand point where you knew you couldn’t fight no matter how hard you wanted or tried.

‘Give up, keep still, it’ll be over soon,’ you told yourself full of sad hope.

His cock, even though causing pain found a strange area in which your body did enjoy, much to your horror.

You could not hold back, the tension within you layered and built higher until it unexpectedly exploded inside blinding pleasure spiralling throughout your entire body. Your eyes saw nothing but white for a mere few seconds. You gasped for air, shocked at the heady sensations swamping you, wondering what strange wildness had taken over your body. You knew Henry had done it somehow.

He sat up and trapped you by the waist in a bruising grip, savagely pounding into you as hard as he possibly could. You grunted and whimpered painfully when he finally release his essence inside of you with a fairly guttural grunt and a groan. His cock still inside you.

He swiped his forehead of the built up sweat when he finished, sweeping his curls hair away from his face. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He hushed and cooed to you as you continued to cry.

The Earl moved away, and you shivered as his cock slid out from your body. The wave of disgust I’m him and in your self for not fighting harder damaged your soul.

“Say thank you, Sir,” he whispered in your ear, you shook your head at him and choked on your tears.

“Say thank you, Sir,” Henry snarled at your stubborn silence as his right hand curled over and pressed down on your throat.

“Thank you…sir,” you croaked, your voice breaking.

“You are sweeter than I could have imagined,” he told your, his voice dripping with a honey thick tone you would’ve found so charming and attractive if this had never happened. Now you could only trembled at it, find yourself afraid of it. Tears leaked down into the pillow. You turned your head away and shut your eyes tightly praying this was somehow a terrible nightmare.

“If you obey me little girl and learn not to talk out against me, you will find I can be a very kind master. Understood?”

You nodded but kept your eyes closed. You felt his lips press to your ear lobe, and he inhaled the smell of your skin again.

The Earl flipped himself onto his side, lightly stroked your cheek. You wept and shuddered under his ‘embrace’, torn between tears and anger, overloaded with conflicting emotions, wrung out from the carnal encounter.

 Unsure how to respond anymore, you only sniffled in reply. Your body trembled in shock as your mind struggled to absorb and understand what had happened this night.

‘How could this have happened? What did I do to deserve this?’

“Sleep,” he commanded and despite having been unconscious before this nightmare, your exhausted body ached. You wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear into darkness completely, just to be away from him.

A single tear escaped to roll down your cheek. You pulled at your the ropes around your wrists again.

Distantly you heard him say, “You’ll need your energy for when you wake.”

No more fight left within you, not that you could put up much one anyway; You let him gathering your bound body in his arms.

His filthy fingers scratched against your scalp as you slowly fell asleep to all the nightmares that would never scare your again due to his mistreatment tonight. You thought back to the kitchen where you should’ve just left. You wish you could go back now and find the butcher knife Chef Mikkelsen used so often, so you could ram it into the black heart beating beneath your cheek.

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Tuesday 10th April. 06:05 am.

Pain, hate, fear, pleading screams, mocking laughter.

This time you knew you were awake. You knew deep down the previous hours had not been a dream. And you knew what the Earl of Jersey had done to you. When your orbs fluttered open you immediately sobbed. Your knowledge was confirmed accurate. A stingy bite came from between your crusty thighs.

Lord Henry was no where in sight.

The room was bathed in natural light from a window with the curtains drawn back. You quickly came to an understanding that the light coming from a window at your right specified it must’ve been morning.

Facing your feet was a door way. Beside the door was a dark leather arm chair facing the bed and a bookshelf.

The room was painted in light cream coloured wallpaper. There was a vanity with a full mirror to your left. You could see most of your nude body tethered to the bed in the vanity mirror. Beside it was a grand wardrobe thrice the size of the one in your room. To your right was a grand fireplace.

The wood was still red with burning embers but the fire had died.

You reached down to rub your raw body. You gasped.

Lifting your right wrist up to your face you noticed a bruising hot rope burn ringing around it.

Your right hand was free…and so were your feet!! But your left hand remained trapped. Sitting up and tugging your right hand down between your thighs you scratched all the dry flakes of old arousal away before slapping your thighs in anger.

You muffled a scream in a multitude of emotions ranging from mourning to the desire to murder.

Folding your face into the ridges of your palm, you sobbed hard until all your bones twitched from the intensity of your wails. Your toes and fingers curled until the knuckles bore a pale hue. Your chin and lip quivered as your nose twitched. Snorting back your tears, you continuously rubbed them with the bottom of your palms. Tears flowed like waterfalls over your warm cheeks.

Your pain stricken tears loomed over the room you were trapped inside. Staring at the door you thought back on your last memories...you swore the monster encased you in his arms; but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Still naked and afraid you slowly and ever so carefully turned on your bottom and slid your feet onto the floor. Your left hand still trapped by the impossibly tight knotted rope, you made it a life crisis to find some kind of item to cut through it.

Your steps were cut short by more than five steps. You knew last night the rope on your wrists wouldn’t have let you move so easily or far.

 ‘Strange, he had definitely untied the other limbs and lengthened the space for me, why?’

You glanced at the dresser. You held your breath, your five step space had been used up, and so with all your persistence you stretched your right hand out to one of the top draws next to the mirror. A click signified your success as your finger managed to pull out the draw by its ring handle and reach inside to feel a cold, hard object.

‘I must leave this place, I can’t be here! I will leave and find another option in teaching, maybe London has available opportunities; I’ll do anything to keep Odette safe! Dear God, Set me free and guide me to safety!’

Holding it steadily and firmly you lifted out your prize.

‘Scissors!’

The sharp weapon of sewing was in your grasp. you bubbled with excitement.

‘I’m going to be free!’

Your slightly shaking hand with the metal tool shot to the rope that trapped you to this scene. Your beating heart loudly pounded in your ears, your breath suddenly laboured. You were terrified, what if he hurt your again? You couldn’t let that happen; you needed to run.

‘I will go to Mr Ransome! He’ll ride me to the harbour, I’ll catch the next ship out back to the main land!’

Your hand hacked away persistently.

Snip

Snip

Snip

A finally with your last cut came undone the rope tying you to the bed.

A mixture of joy and fear harboured your soul.

‘I now need to leave through the door!’

The moment you were loose you considered running out the door, but a slight breeze halted you entirely. Your eyes flickered down. Bare to the world was not an option for you to run through the house and escape, you’d be a large sore thumb! It would be a worse humiliation to be so open in front of the household along with the possibility of little Mary and Michael catching you with their innocent eyes.

You looked to the bed with quick thinking and stripped it of its contents. After laying down the scissors you wrapped the layers around your body as best and securely as you could.

But tying your last part of your self made dress, the sound of a click and handle turning from the very door you planned to escape through made you panic and trip over your make shift skirtsfalling onto your backside.

Your hand immediately launched for the scissors still on the bed and swiped them behind your back.

The door flung open with a loud creak. As expected the handsome beast stood in the door frame. you scrambled to your feet, just as the Earl Henry entered the room with his hands behind his back and chest puffed up like a rooster. You bit your lip and looked to your feet, you didn’t realise how small and intimidated you could be made to feel again.

He was fully dressed in a common three piece suit. A pocket watch hung from a clip on his waist.

His leather shoes squeaked as long the floor.

Walking in, he pushed the door closed with his two fingers and in his other hand was a tightly held key that locked you both inside. Slipping the tool of your escape into his pocket, Henry noticed how you; his victim was in a different position that last time he’d left you.

The bastard had a smug grin on his face. His eyes set on your freed wrists and back to the bare bed then back to your covered torso. Dressed in the costume toga of a roman vestal virgin despite its ironical symbolism; it was so sweetly innocent.

He fluttered his eyes and chuckled a little, “It pleases me to know you have learnt simple etiquette; to rise with a bowed head in the presence of those superior to you.”

Your teeth sneered as your eyes glared up at him, “I’m not standing for you,” you licked your lips and sighed, “I was just…startled that’s all.”

You hid the scissors inside the folds of your make-shift skirts, pretending that you were simply smoothing the sheets you’d draped yourself in while gradually stepping further and further away from him to circle around the bed. Distancing yourself from the danger was the easiest and possibly safest strategy to run outside the door.

He shook his head and flashed a mean grin, “Well, all my girls here know when to show respect to their lord and Master.”

His footing rounded you quickly and slammed your hips into the duchess draws, the back of your head snapped back and cracked against the mirror. Tears released instantly even while you screamed at yourself to hold your composure. You made no noise, no whimper or whine, even with the spreading burning headache from the back of your head.

Just silent tears.

His large warm hand lifted up and rubbed your cheek, collecting your falling droplets. You flinched half believing he rose his hand to strike you. His fingers guided your face to the side and thumb jabbed into your jaw and chin. He moved your head side to side.

After so much silence of the earl inspecting your face, you hissed, “I am not one of your ‘girls’ and I do not belong to anyone, therefore I shall not bow or rise under the command of a pompous man with the greed of a naughty child!”

His eyes widened along with a sickly smile.

“My, you sure have a mouth on you.” He chuckled, his finger circled behind the your ear.

His eyes looked into the broken mirror, “The sooner you acknowledge that you are not merely a governess here, the better off you’ll be…little girl.”

An icy tingle spread from your neck to your feet while heat spread through your lower belly and down between your legs.

‘The way he spat, ‘Little girl’, why do I…do I enjoy such a demeaning name!?’ Your lips wobbled.

“Do not call me by that and do not touch me!” you hissed through your teeth and slapped his hand away.

Your other hand beneath the folds squeezed the handle of the scissors tightly with your dear life.

You knew that if you stabbed him, he could die and that you might hang for it.

‘He had ruined you! He had stolen your purity! your special flower!’ you internally lamented.

He shook his head happily like a silly teenager discovering the most immature joke that he found hilarious, his hand glided down your neck and to your chest. With a great boldness and savage hands he roughly groped your breasts wrapped in the sheets and sharply tugged a nipple he found.

A loud pain gasp stole out of your mouth.

Hatred and hellfire sparked in your soul. You quickly grasped Henrys wrist in your hand and threw it aside before pushing him strongly back.

“I said, don’t touch me!” you screeched and lifted up the scissors; you wanted to plunge them into his chest!

Alas, he miraculously anticipated your moves. Henry caught your weapon holding hand by the wrist and twisted it, causing you to cry out in pain and releasing the silver tool with a floor clattering thud.

He quickly wrenched your other arm behind you and clasped both of your wrists together in one hand as he pulled on one of your many ties that secured your sheet dress in place. The ‘gown’ came undone and melted off your body onto the floor.

You fought, believe me you screamed like a banshee and kicked and stomped and smacked your sore head against his rocked hard chest to possible knock the air out of him, it’s unfortunate he was unaffected by your attacks.

“Unhand me you... you... you... Pig!!” you screamed, wriggling in his arms.

Your feet attempted to stomp harshly down on his shoes. Yet it became a little game of shuffle and kick.

“Pig?” he laughed with a bark like sound, “Is that the best you could think of? Pig?! You couldn’t even manage the word arse or idiot or even bitch?” his deep laughter vibrating through his chest, pressed against you, sharing his mirth. “I know you to be naïve little one, but so innocently proper?

Oh this is just absolutely too much,” he gasped, tears of laughter in his eyes.

You scowled at him.

‘I just tried to kill you!’ you thought in horror and anger, ‘you think it’s funny I could’ve ended your life!’

“Release me at once you brute!” You shouted over your shoulder.

“Now, now, not yet,” he grunted and shoved your front into the mattress of the bed, “You seem to be unable to control yourself in the presence of a man...no, why in fact, my presence, the presence of your Master. Once you show some self-control or respect, you’ll be held down right beneath me,” he murmured in a silky voice as he held your wrists together and undid his belt.

You heard the clink and began to tremble. You bit your lip and cried silently into the fabric pressed on your face. The leather wrapped around your elbows and tightened sharply. Henry bound your arms together as he fastened the buckle of his belt. He looked over his work and nodded before running fingers down your contorted shoulder blades, causing you to jump and accidentally release the smallest hiccup. You were a troublesome innocent to him. Still a little girl.

‘Goodness!’ He thought, ‘She is old enough to be my own daughter...’ But was there a hint of guilt in his black heart? Ha! Of course not!

His lips pressed beneath your ear and purred “Tell me little bunny, what did you think of me? When we first met I mean, back in my study.”

“I thought nothing!” You lied, wriggling beneath him, you were trying so hard to turn your body over and face him, you were only able to when he ripped your shoulder over and pressed his hands down on your shoulders with his face so close to yours, your noses touched.

“Oh really, because not for one moment do I believe that. I believe you…had an attraction didn’t you?” he leered, his tongue licking his lips.

 His large hands cupped the sides of your face, pulling you against his moistened lips, his tongue pushing past your soft lips, pressing against your own.

Your eyes completely widened, pupils constricted. You were stunned by his shocking boldness. A kiss was the last thing you thought he’d do, you didn’t think such a ‘love’ used thing would be in his abilities after his rash behaviour the night before.

 However, when you felt his large tongue pushing itself past your lips like a slimy thick worm, you felt sickened. You tried to pull away but he held your face against his own, you strained against the belt except was unable to lift a limb to him.

You thought about one of his smart quotes about your mouth…‘you sure have a mouth on you’. Henry felt a lift in your lips that formed a small smile against his lips. Cheeky and brave for once, you hatched a nasty thought. You returned his affectionate attentions.

Henry grumbled to himself, he didn’t want you to relax, he wanted you to be scared of him and hate him. He wanted you to fight! It was too strange to him and felt just so wrong after initially fighting against him, you now were warming up to his touch?

Instead a second later he felt pain of raw fire- he yelped and ripped his face back while feeling his bottom lip; he was bleeding! you had bitten him! He couldn’t believe it! But in a way he could!

And despite the agonising bite mark, he loved it!

He may have wanted your submission yes, but he also wanted to see the red in your eyes. Henry wanted your loyalty and your hate. Deep down he considered he enjoyed a woman disliking him and looking at him with disgust written on your face; it awakened what he felt when he saw his wife.

He admitted to his own butler that he loved to fuck his wife as she screamed how much he repulsed her and his existence with his cock tightly shoved inside of her cunt. Something about the situation would always arouse him.

Last night he was bored with you. After all, you only cried and begged. He wanted his governess to screech and claw just how you did now.

Besides, this gave him reason to ‘dutifully punish’ you. Your biting teeth was the second time you’d assaulted him in the last ten minutes, Henry now wanted to hear you really scream.

His hand sharply slapped across your face enticing the very noise he craved.

“You’ll pay for that,” he barked as he pulled your whole torso forwards across his lap, lifting your legs onto your knees, below your chest was his lap. He raised his clean palm high above his head and whipped it down hard against your bottom.

You didn’t scream, didn’t cry, didn’t wail and didn’t weep. You choked.

All the air had encased itself inside your chest until Henry softly rubbed your arse; a little silent choke emitted from your lips before the air escaped in terrible wailing sobs.

“Hurts doesn’t it, little rabbit, sore beneath your cotton tail?” The Earl cooed as he rubbed his governess’ bottom in a circular motion before swiftly spanking you again. You squealed from shock more than pain this time as you struggled to roll off his lap.

“Let me go! I demand you release me! How dare y-”, but your words were cut off by three successive spanks to your rear, causing you to gasp, rendering you speechless.

He goaded you, “I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t hear what you were saying, care to repeat it?” You may have been humiliated, however you were not going to cave in again!

You looked back over your shoulder at him with your meanest scowl, “I said ‘how dare you touch me!?’ You disgustin-“ but was once again rendered speechless as he pelted upon you an additional four more hits to your rear. Heaving and shaking, fight away more tears you growled at him; steam practically blew out of your nose and ears.

The Earl paused, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Tell me little bunny rabbit, have you ever been spanked before?” he rubbed your bottom again, “Probably not... your father was far too busy gambling his wealth to lay hands on his daughter.”

You perked your head and listened carefully, ‘how did he know about fathers’ money?’

“The west country are such a soft people, not to mention squirmy cowards,” he continued. “But that was just a warm up.”

You were fast losing whatever equal footing you thought you had. As you felt his spidery hand rub its way up your bare leg in between your thighs you struggled against his lap, feeling his palm increase the pressure against your spine. His hand froze and pulled away. He laughed loudly at you and patted your bottom.

“Awe little rabbit, by all means struggle! It is a tremendous show to the audience and surely you can feel me press against your rubbing chest, can’t you darling?” He asked, emphasizing the hardness within his pants by grinding up into your ribs.

You felt nausea as though you were going to cause terrible indigestion. He was true to his word as you felt the hard poking of a firm bulge against you. You froze, aware that your motion was indeed causing your tormentor increasing pleasure.

“Oh, don’t stop now bunny, that felt so good!” he taunted.

“Let me go, Henry!” you yelled, careful to remain still against him.

SMACK!

Tears sprung to your eyes, a squeal escaped you, the stinging in your cheeks were ten times worse than his others he’d administrated before.

“Do – not – ad-dress – me – by – my – name,” he grunted, spanking your with each word, seven hard spanks in all, echoing around the room.

You focused all your energy on keeping silent, not acknowledging his power over you. Your pride meant everything if you were to continue to fight and escape, you couldn’t give in, not even in the face of such torment.

“You shall address me as befitting your stature – and let me emphasize, dear little girl, that you may be the governess of my children and I may be your employer, but we are in no way equals,” He stated, as he ran the palm of his hand over your, feeling the heat radiating off your buns.

“Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

You remained silent, you wouldn’t let him get the satisfactory of hearing your cry again, tears he would see but no cry, no matter how hard he hit your, you would not give up!

Clearly not impressed nor pleased by your, Henry dug his finger nails into one of your reddened cheeks, piercing the tender flesh, causing you to whimper in pain and then fall back to quick silence.

“I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” he huffed.

“Yes! Yes... you were very clear,” you gasped and repeated “We are not equals.”

Feeling him lessen the pressure on your hot arse, you hesitated before continuing.

You clenched your whole body and braced for his rage you knew would spit out when you said very smartly, “From our very first meeting Lord Dalgliesh, I discovered the evidence to prove that you are in fact…inferior to me.”

‘Inferior…uncouth slug, foul pig, son of a bastards’ whore!'

The look he shared turned you colder than a corpse in grave mud....

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