Fletcher's Eyes Lingered On The Female As He Tried To Work Her Out. "I'm Just Saying Blackmailing Criminals

Closed starter || @thosemalemuses​

Brooke stood outside the male’s apartment, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Dj, her pimp, had dropped her off outside the male’s door a few minutes ago, telling her he’d be back in two hours. That in itself had shocked her. Zach had paid for an extra hour. Maybe this time he wanted to do more than talk. She didn’t like to guess anymore. People were odd creatures - just when you thought you had them sussed, they would do something to surprise you. Zach was more difficult than most. The blonde couldn’t get a read on him. Not a lot of things intrigued her, but he definitely did. She pressed his doorbell once more, growing a little impatient in the cold night breeze with nothing but a small black dress to keep her warm.

I really want an AU where our muses are married and to their friends they look really awesome and happy but they’re just not. Maybe they are having a difficult time having kids, or they can’t really make ends meet, but whatever it is it’s putting a terrible strain on their relationship, yet in public they act like the happiest couple on Earth.

I'm still here, and I will do my replies soon -- just having some quiet time as I'm not feeling great atm

Closed starter || @butlerbarrow He dreams of being back in that trench. He dreams of all the bodies of his comrades. He dreams of their hands grabbing at him. Dozens of them were gangly, gaunt, and pale, with an air of death. They pull at him, dragging him down into the mud until he can't breathe. His own hands reach for the surface, clawing at the phantom fingers grasping his body. Everything is cold, black, and silent except for the muffled, anguished screams. Robbie thrashed in the bed.

His eyes snapped open, a strangled cry escaping his lips. He sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, his chest heaving with the terror of the dream. For a moment, the darkness of the room seemed to mirror the abyss of the trench, the silence punctuated only by the echo of his own ragged breathing.

Robbie was back in the convalescent home, the sterile white walls a stark contrast to the dark, muddy grave that haunted his dreams. The bandages on his shoulder and back felt like a second skin, a constant reminder of the hell he'd escaped. His head throbbed a dull ache that echoed the head injury he'd suffered. He could still see the faces of his comrades, their screams swallowed by the deafening roar of the explosion. The smell of cordite and burning flesh clung to him, a phantom stench that wouldn't leave.

dxrlingdevils​:

“Oh obviously. It wasn’t planned, a few of the lads from work dragged me out, otherwise you know I would have had you by myside causing mayhem and destruction.” Liam didn’t have it in him to put any more enthusiasm behind his words, if anything it came out as more of a groan. “Wait, you were supposed to have done the shopping yesterday?” His brows furrowed as he attempted to remember only to groan in pain as his head throbbed.

“I mean, that’s what you say but I mean you could have called me.” Becca replied, looking at him, still unimpressed. It didn’t actually bother her he had gone out without her, but it was fun to make him think so. “We’re not talking about what I did or what I didn’t do Liam, we are talking about me needing Fruit Loops, oh and those cute mini marshmallows that you put in my hot chocolate,” Becca stated before placing her bowl on the table and reaching over for the spare pillow that the male had been trying to find.

Rhiannon didn’t respond right away. She let his words settle, watching the way he curled in on himself, the way his frustration laced through every syllable. She didn’t flinch at the bitterness in his tone—just observed, quiet and steady.

After a moment, she looked away, out toward the darkened yard. “I know what you mean,” she murmured. “When there’s too much noise, too many thoughts, and no way to turn them down.” Her fingers idly traced a knot in the wood beneath her. “It’s like being stuck inside a room where all the walls are mirrors, and every reflection is another thing you have to think about.”

She let the thought drift between them, not pushing for a response.

Instead, she sat back a little more, looking up at the stars in the sky. They always had a way of calming her, a way of reminding her how small she and her problems were in the grand scheme of things. “People don’t always notice when someone’s overwhelmed. They just keep talking, keep expecting.” Her gaze flickered toward the window, toward the muffled thrum of the party inside. “It’s easier to let them think you’re distant than explain.”

Her eyes met his again, searching but not prying. “Does anything help?” It wasn’t an empty question, not a meaningless attempt at small talk. Just quiet curiosity, like she was offering him space to answer—or not—without expectation.

Kit's gaze shifted back to his front and he returned to taking eaven breaths. He knew this was futile to continue doing this and silently cursed himself for being out from home for so long. He was thinking of classwork and what he needed to assign for his next class, about the bpm of the current song playing at the party, also trying to calculate a math equation he'd seen in his head, all the while people at the party continued to try and speak to him. It was too much and he soon found himself needing and wanting to go home.

His brain was still buzzing and he could feel himself slipping mentally. He made a mental note to know that he'd be pretty much be operating on autopilot for the remainder of the week. He couldn't understand her feeling of not being around strangers but it all being too much was something all too familiar for him. He was nodding along to what she said absently before taking a small sigh.

At her question his eyes looked back to her as he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on top of them. "It spins everywhere." His reply coming out bitter and irritated. "I can't control it and I just," he shrugged, "I needed a moment." After a moment he continued. "Most people assume i'm just cold but if my brain is already in overdrive and someone speaks to me on top of it..it just becomes too much to handle."

Rhiannon stood frozen in the middle of the road, her bare feet numb against the cold, slick asphalt. The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking her to the bone, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She shivered violently, her body trembling with the chill, but her gaze remained fixed on something distant, something far beyond the reach of the storm. Her clothes clung to her skin, dripping with water, but it was the bare feet that seemed most out of place, her toes curling against the icy ground, leaving behind smudges of wet footprints where she stood.

When she finally spoke, her voice was weak, barely audible over the roaring storm, but there was a coldness to it that seemed to cut through the rain. "I’m fine," she muttered, though the words were barely a whisper, strained with the effort of speaking. She didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t move even as her body continued to shake uncontrollably from the cold.

Her teeth chattered as she spoke again, her voice sharper this time. "You shouldn’t have stopped," she said, her tone distant, as if the words weren’t meant for him at all. "It’s not safe for you here." She let out a soft, breathy sigh, her feet shuffling slightly on the wet ground, but her gaze never wavered from the horizon.

closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

Rain was already spitting against the windshield, blurring the already indistinct lines of the two-lane highway. Lucas gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. The weather report had been dire – flash flood warnings, potential hail the size of golf balls – and all Lucas wanted was to be home, safe and dry. He glanced in the rearview mirror, a habitual check even though he hadn’t seen another car for miles. Empty. Just the churning blackness behind them, reflecting the red glow of their own taillights.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through him as his eyes snapped back to the road. Someone. Standing right in the middle of the lane. Lucas slammed on the brakes, the tires screaming in protest against the slick asphalt. The car shuddered to a halt just inches from the figure.

Heart hammering against his ribs, Lucas shifted into park and killed the engine. The sudden silence was broken only by the increasing patter of rain against the roof and the frantic thumping of his own pulse. "Okay, okay, stay calm," he muttered. This was probably just some poor soul who's car had broken down, he reasoned.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out of the car.

The figure was definitely human, though the darkness and the rain made it difficult to see clearly. They were facing away from the car, head tilted back, as if staring at something only they could see in the storm-wracked sky. Their clothes were damp and clinging to their frame, and a shiver wracked their body, but otherwise, they were motionless.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Lucas called out, cautiously approaching. The flashlight beam danced over the stranger's back. "I almost didn't see you. Are you hurt?"

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he felt her trembling again, her body betraying her no matter how hard she tried to fight it. “Fuck, Pia,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, but there was something else there too—something more satisfied. “So sensitive.”

He watched her struggle to keep quiet, the way she bit her lip so hard it had to hurt. Like she actually thought she could control it. Like she thought he wouldn’t notice the way her body tightened around him, how she was already so far gone again.

Kai's hands slid over her thighs, slow and deliberate, just to feel the way she shuddered under his touch. “You’re really trying, huh?” he teased, fingers brushing up her spine before gripping her waist, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “But I can still hear you.” His grip softened as she trembled against him, his fingers still stroking her gently, drawing out every last aftershock until she finally slumped forward, breathless, still pressed so perfectly into his lap like she wasn’t planning on moving any time soon.

well it was a good thing that no one could hear her, because with the way she felt so sensitive that they'd been together moments prior it didn't take long before she felt her legs trembling again. knowing exactly how to torment her at her most sensitive areas was a little unfair because she was desperate to feel that eruption again.

so she worked with him, angling her arm above the seat to have a better grip and it was a matter of seconds before she felt it again. this time it felt even better and came on so swiftly she felt her whole body contract with tingles.

she was sinking her teeth into her lower lip as to stop the flow of moans that were trying desperately to escape and eventually a few did slip when she wasn't focused so hard on it.

god, now she felt even more embarassed how she was just so needy for him seconds before. how she was still happily in his lap like he was going to tend to her every need all evening.

real talk though, all i am asking for is a cute (and potentially angsty) domestic plot surrounding a girl who has to take responsibility for her younger sibling when their parents bail and a perhaps slightly older man who falls for her. due to whatever circumstances, perhaps he doesn’t have anyone in his life either so his whole life becomes her and helping to take care for the sibling. however, nobody said that the way he helps to support their new lil family is legal. just a thought. 

Plot # 64: A Hand to Hold