#SIP trunk features

[wholesalevoice]

What Features Are Offered by Leading SIP Trunk Providers?

When it comes to business communication, having a reliable and efficient system in place is crucial. That's where SIP trunk providers come in. They offer a range of features that can enhance your communication infrastructure and take it to the next level. From VoIP integration and call routing to PSTN connectivity, leading SIP trunk providers have it all.

Imagine seamlessly integrating your VoIP system with your existing infrastructure. With SIP trunking, this becomes a reality. Leading providers offer robust VoIP integration capabilities, allowing you to streamline your communication channels and improve overall business efficiency. Whether you need unified communications or advanced call features, SIP trunk providers have the tools to make it happen.

PSTN connectivity plays a vital role in ensuring reliable communication between SIP trunks and traditional phone systems. With leading SIP trunk providers, you can count on robust PSTN connectivity that enables crystal-clear voice quality and uninterrupted communication. Their SIP gateways act as a bridge between the digital and analog worlds, ensuring seamless connectivity and eliminating any potential disruptions.

Efficient call routing is another feature offered by leading SIP trunk providers. They leverage advanced technologies to optimize call routing, saving you costs and improving the overall call experience. Intelligent call routing directs calls to the most appropriate endpoints, ensuring that they reach the right destination quickly and efficiently.

But it doesn't stop there. Leading SIP trunk providers also offer wholesale voice solutions for enterprise needs. Whether you require scalable and flexible communication options or comprehensive disaster recovery solutions, these providers have you covered. They understand the unique requirements of businesses and provide tailored solutions to meet those needs.

When selecting a SIP trunk provider, factors such as quality of service, security features, and service level agreements should also be considered. Leading providers prioritize these aspects, ensuring that you receive a reliable, secure, and high-quality communication experience.

In this article, we will delve deeper into the features offered by leading SIP trunk providers, explore real-world case studies, and provide you with a comprehensive guide on selecting the right provider for your business. Stay tuned to discover how partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider can revolutionize your business communication.

Understanding SIP Trunking Services

SIP trunking services, offered by reputable SIP Trunk Providers, have become a vital component of modern communication systems. Using the session initiation protocol (SIP), businesses can connect their private branch exchange (PBX) systems to the public switched telephone network (PSTN) through an internet connection.

With SIP trunking, traditional phone lines are replaced with virtual connections, allowing businesses to make and receive calls over the internet. This eliminates the need for separate physical phone lines and enables cost-effective and efficient communication.

One of the key benefits of SIP trunking is its flexibility. Unlike traditional phone systems, which have a fixed number of lines, SIP trunks can be easily scaled up or down to accommodate the changing needs of businesses. This scalability allows for better resource allocation and cost savings.

SIP trunking also offers improved call quality and reliability. By leveraging the internet for voice transmission, businesses can enjoy high-definition audio and clearer conversations. Moreover, SIP trunk providers often include robust redundancy and disaster recovery solutions, ensuring uninterrupted communication even during unforeseen events.

Another advantage of SIP trunking is its ability to enable PSTN connectivity. Businesses can connect their SIP trunks to traditional phone systems, allowing them to make and receive calls using existing hardware. This integration helps organizations leverage their existing infrastructure while enjoying the benefits of SIP trunking.

Overall, by adopting SIP trunking services from reputable providers, businesses can streamline their communication systems, reduce costs, and enhance their overall productivity. The next section will explore the integration of VoIP systems with SIP trunking, highlighting the benefits of this unified approach.

VoIP Integration for Enhanced Communication

SIP trunk providers play a crucial role in enabling seamless integration with VoIP systems, enhancing communication capabilities for businesses. By embracing VoIP integration, companies can leverage the power of unified communications to streamline their operations and improve overall efficiency.

Unified communications refers to the integration of various communication tools and platforms into a centralized system. This allows employees to access a wide range of communication channels, such as voice calls, video conferencing, instant messaging, and email, all from a single interface. With VoIP integration facilitated by SIP trunk providers, companies can achieve a higher level of collaboration and productivity.

Through the integration of VoIP systems, businesses can experience several benefits. Firstly, VoIP enables cost-effective communication by utilizing the internet for voice calls rather than traditional phone lines. This eliminates the need for separate phone systems, resulting in significant cost savings for businesses.

Additionally, VoIP integration allows for greater flexibility and scalability. SIP trunk providers offer businesses the ability to add or remove VoIP channels as needed, accommodating fluctuations in communication requirements. This scalability ensures that businesses can easily adapt to changing needs without incurring unnecessary costs.

Benefits of VoIP Integration:

Cost-effective communication through the use of internet telephony

Improved collaboration and productivity with unified communications

Flexibility and scalability to meet changing communication needs

Enhanced mobility and remote accessibility

Seamless integration with existing communication systems

In summary, VoIP integration facilitated by SIP trunk providers empowers businesses with efficient and unified communication solutions. By leveraging the benefits of VoIP systems, companies can optimize their communication workflows, enhance collaboration, and achieve a competitive edge in today's digital landscape.

Robust PSTN Connectivity for Reliable Communication

When it comes to business communication, reliability is key. That's why having robust PSTN connectivity is crucial for businesses seeking uninterrupted and dependable phone system connectivity. SIP trunk providers play a vital role in ensuring this robust connectivity through the use of SIP gateways.

SIP gateways act as the bridge between SIP trunks and traditional phone systems, allowing for seamless communication between the two. They enable businesses to connect their IP-based phone systems to the Public Switched Telephone Network (PSTN), ensuring that calls can be made and received without any disruptions.

With SIP gateways, businesses can leverage their existing phone systems while taking advantage of the cost savings and additional features provided by SIP trunking services. Whether it's making local or international calls, SIP gateways ensure that the communication is reliable and of high quality.

By partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider that offers robust PSTN connectivity, businesses can enjoy the benefits of a dependable and efficient phone system. They can confidently communicate with clients, customers, and partners, knowing that their calls will go through smoothly and without any hiccups.

Benefits of robust PSTN connectivity provided by SIP trunk providers:

Reliable and uninterrupted communication

Seamless integration between SIP trunks and traditional phone systems

Cost savings by leveraging existing phone systems

High-quality voice calls, both local and international

With robust PSTN connectivity provided by SIP trunk providers, businesses can achieve reliable and consistent communication, allowing them to focus on their core operations and serve their customers effectively.

Efficient Call Routing for Cost Savings

When it comes to business communication, efficient call routing plays a crucial role in ensuring seamless connectivity and optimizing costs. Leading SIP trunk providers offer robust call routing capabilities that enable businesses to streamline their communication processes and drive cost savings.

Call routing involves the intelligent distribution of incoming calls to the most appropriate destination within an organization. With SIP trunking, businesses can leverage advanced call routing features to enhance their overall communication efficiency. These features include:

Automatic call forwarding: Incoming calls can be automatically redirected to different extensions or departments based on pre-defined rules. This ensures that calls are efficiently routed to the most suitable individuals or teams, minimizing the need for manual intervention.

Time-based routing: Businesses can set up call routing rules based on specific time frames. For example, calls received outside of office hours can be redirected to voicemail or a designated on-call team, ensuring that no important calls go unanswered.

Geographical routing: SIP trunk providers also offer geographical call routing functionality. Calls can be directed to different locations or branches based on the caller's geographical location. This ensures that customers are connected to the most relevant and geographically suitable agents or representatives.

By implementing efficient call routing strategies, businesses can achieve significant cost savings. With intelligent call routing, organizations can reduce unnecessary call transfers and minimize the time spent on handling each call. This optimized call flow helps enhance productivity and customer satisfaction while reducing operational costs.

Moreover, leading SIP trunk providers offer flexible pricing models for their call routing services, allowing businesses to pay for the specific call routing features they require. This ensures cost-efficient communication solutions tailored to their unique needs and enables them to avoid unnecessary expenses.

With the right call routing capabilities provided by leading SIP trunk providers, businesses can maximize their communication efficiency, reduce costs, and deliver exceptional customer experiences.

Wholesale Voice Solutions for Enterprise Needs

SIP trunk providers offer wholesale voice solutions tailored to meet the specific communication needs of enterprises. These solutions enable businesses to streamline their voice services while enjoying cost savings and improved efficiency. Let's explore how wholesale voice, wholesale VoIP, and wholesale voice termination can benefit your enterprise.

Benefits of Wholesale Voice Solutions

Cost Savings: Wholesale voice solutions allow enterprises to purchase voice services in bulk at discounted rates, resulting in significant cost savings compared to traditional voice services.

Scalability: These solutions are highly scalable, allowing businesses to easily add or remove channels based on their changing communication needs.

Reliable Performance: Leading SIP trunk providers ensure high-quality voice termination services, providing crystal-clear voice communication for seamless business operations.

Flexibility: Wholesale voice solutions offer businesses the flexibility to choose the most suitable voice termination options, such as local, international, or toll-free numbers.

Centralized Management: Enterprises can manage their voice services centrally, reducing administrative complexities and enhancing overall control of their communication systems.

Wholesale VoIP and Voice Termination

Wholesale VoIP allows businesses to transmit voice calls over the internet. By partnering with a reputable SIP trunk provider, enterprises can benefit from wholesale VoIP services that offer extensive coverage, competitive pricing, and exceptional call quality. Wholesale voice termination refers to the process of routing voice calls to their intended destinations across various networks. SIP trunk providers ensure seamless voice termination, ensuring that businesses can connect with their customers and partners without any disruptions.

Scalability and Flexibility of SIP Trunking

When it comes to business communication, adaptability is key. That's why SIP trunking services from leading providers offer unmatched scalability and flexibility, allowing businesses to easily adjust their communication infrastructure as their needs evolve.

With SIP trunking, businesses can add or remove SIP channels effortlessly, enabling them to optimize their resources and costs. Whether you need to accommodate a sudden increase in call volume or scale down during slower periods, SIP trunking allows for seamless adjustments without disrupting your operations.

By partnering with reliable SIP trunk providers, businesses gain access to the internet telephony solutions they need to connect with customers, clients, and partners across the globe. Leveraging the power of SIP channels, organizations can establish high-quality voice calls and exchange data efficiently, regardless of geographical boundaries.

What's more, SIP trunking services enable businesses to integrate modern communication technologies seamlessly. By leveraging internet telephony, companies can enjoy the benefits of unified communications, combining voice, messaging, and other collaboration tools into a single, cohesive platform.

By harnessing the scalability and flexibility offered by SIP trunking, businesses can future-proof their communication systems, ensuring they can adapt to evolving customer demands and industry trends. Whether it's expanding to new markets, supporting remote workforces, or implementing advanced communication features, SIP trunking provides the foundation for growth and innovation.

In the next section, we will explore the robust redundancy and disaster recovery solutions offered by leading SIP trunk providers, ensuring uninterrupted communication even during unforeseen events.

Redundancy and Disaster Recovery Solutions

Leading SIP Trunk Providers understand the critical need for uninterrupted communication in today's business landscape. That is why they offer robust redundancy and disaster recovery solutions to ensure seamless operations even during unforeseen events.

Disasters such as natural calamities or system failures can significantly disrupt communication channels, leading to loss of productivity and potential revenue. However, businesses can mitigate these risks by partnering with SIP Trunk Providers that prioritize disaster recovery solutions.

Redundancy for Reliable Communication

SIP Trunk Providers leverage redundant infrastructure to maintain service availability and minimize downtime. By deploying multiple data centers located in geographically diverse regions, these providers ensure that even if one location goes offline, communication remains uninterrupted. This redundancy eliminates single points of failure, resulting in highly reliable and resilient SIP trunking services.

Furthermore, leading providers employ advanced failover mechanisms to seamlessly switch traffic to an alternate data center in case of any disruption. This automated process helps maintain continuity and enables businesses to overcome challenges without any significant impact on their communication systems.

Disaster Recovery Solutions for Business Continuity

In addition to redundancy, SIP Trunk Providers offer comprehensive disaster recovery solutions to safeguard businesses during emergencies. These solutions include backup strategies, data replication, and failover procedures to ensure that critical communication services are quickly restored in the event of a disaster.

By implementing disaster recovery plans and backup systems, SIP Trunk Providers can swiftly recover data, reroute calls, and restore services, minimizing any potential loss of communication and allowing businesses to resume operations promptly.

Benefits of Redundancy and Disaster Recovery Solutions

Ensures uninterrupted communication, enhancing business continuity

Minimizes potential revenue loss during downtime

Provides peace of mind knowing that communication channels are protected

Facilitates quick restoration of services, reducing downtime impact

Improves overall reliability and resilience of communication systems

By partnering with a SIP Trunk Provider that prioritizes redundancy and disaster recovery solutions, businesses can effectively safeguard their communication infrastructure, enabling them to stay connected even in the face of adversity.

Quality of Service and Service Level Agreements

When it comes to SIP trunking services, the quality of service (QoS) offered by SIP trunk providers is paramount. Whether you are a small business or a large enterprise, ensuring reliable and high-quality communication is essential for seamless operations.

Quality of service refers to the performance and reliability of the voice and data transmission over SIP trunks. It encompasses factors such as call clarity, minimal latency, and consistent bandwidth allocation. Achieving a high level of quality requires the expertise and infrastructure provided by reputable SIP trunk providers.

SIP trunk providers understand the significance of QoS and strive to deliver exceptional performance. They maintain robust networks and employ advanced technologies to ensure crystal-clear voice calls and smooth data transmissions. By prioritizing QoS, businesses can avoid issues like dropped calls, poor audio quality, and data loss.

In addition to QoS, service level agreements (SLAs) play a crucial role in guaranteeing reliable communication. SLAs are contracts between businesses and SIP trunk providers that outline the expected level of service. They define metrics such as uptime percentage, call completion rates, and response times for support inquiries.

With SLAs in place, businesses can have peace of mind knowing that their communication system is backed by guarantees. In the event of any service disruptions, providers are bound to resolve issues promptly, minimizing downtime and ensuring uninterrupted operations.

SIP Trunk Providers: Ensuring High-Quality Communication

Advanced network infrastructure: Leading SIP trunk providers invest in state-of-the-art network infrastructure to deliver superior quality of service. They prioritize traffic to minimize latency, jitter, and packet loss.

Bandwidth management: Providers allocate and manage bandwidth effectively to ensure consistent performance even during peak usage periods. This allows businesses to maintain optimal communication quality without bottlenecks.

Quality monitoring and optimization: SIP trunk providers continuously monitor and optimize their services to identify and address potential quality issues. They employ proactive measures to maintain the highest standards of communication quality.

Redundancy and failover systems: To ensure reliable communication, providers have redundant systems in place. In the event of any network or hardware failures, failover systems seamlessly switch to backup routes, minimizing service disruptions.

By partnering with a reputable SIP trunk provider, businesses can leverage their expertise and infrastructure to achieve exceptional quality of service. This translates into clearer calls, smoother data transfers, and enhanced overall communication experiences.

Next, we'll explore the security and encryption features offered by leading SIP trunk providers to ensure the privacy and protection of your communication. But first, let's take a moment to visualize the importance of quality of service in SIP trunking services.

Security and Encryption Features

When it comes to business communication, security is paramount. Leading SIP Trunk Providers understand this and offer robust security measures and encryption features to ensure the confidentiality and integrity of your communications.

One of the key security features offered by SIP Trunk Providers is Transport Layer Security (TLS). TLS encrypts the communication between your organization and the service provider, preventing unauthorized access and eavesdropping. It provides end-to-end encryption, keeping your data secure from the moment it leaves your network until it reaches its destination.

In addition to TLS, providers often employ Secure Real-time Transport Protocol (SRTP) for securing voice and video calls. SRTP encrypts the media streams, making sure that your conversations cannot be intercepted or tampered with. This adds an extra layer of protection to your sensitive business communications.

SIP Trunk Providers also implement firewalls and intrusion detection systems to safeguard against unauthorized access attempts. These security measures monitor and block suspicious activity, protecting your network from potential threats.

Furthermore, some providers offer multi-factor authentication (MFA) to enhance security. With MFA, users are required to provide additional verification, such as a unique code sent to their mobile device, before accessing the SIP trunking service. This reduces the risk of unauthorized access even if login credentials are compromised.

By leveraging the security features provided by leading SIP Trunk Providers, businesses can have peace of mind knowing that their communications are protected from external threats. Choosing a provider that prioritizes security ensures the confidentiality, integrity, and availability of your critical business communications.

SIP Trunk Provider Comparison: Factors to Consider

When choosing the right SIP trunk provider for your business phone solutions, it's essential to carefully evaluate and compare different options. To ensure that you make an informed decision, consider the following key factors:

Reliability: Look for SIP trunk providers that have a proven track record of reliable service and uptime. Check customer reviews and testimonials to get an idea of their performance.

Call Quality: High-quality voice calls are crucial for effective business communication. Consider providers that offer advanced technologies and prioritize call quality.

Scalability: Your business communication needs may change and grow over time. Choose a provider that allows easy scalability, enabling you to add or remove trunks as per your requirements.

Cost: Compare pricing plans offered by different providers, considering both setup costs and ongoing charges. Look for transparent pricing models without hidden fees.

Compatibility: Ensure that the SIP trunk provider is compatible with your existing phone system and equipment. This compatibility will simplify integration and minimize potential disruption.

Customer Support: Evaluate the level of customer support offered by each provider. You'll want a provider that provides timely and reliable support to address any issues that may arise.

Security: Business communication requires robust security measures to protect sensitive information. Look for providers that offer encrypted communication and have strong security protocols in place.

By carefully considering these factors, you can select a SIP trunk provider that best meets the unique needs of your business, ensuring seamless and efficient communication.

How to Select the Right SIP Trunk Provider

When it comes to implementing SIP trunking for your business, selecting the right SIP trunk provider is crucial for achieving seamless communication. With numerous providers available in the market, it can be overwhelming to choose the one that best fits your business needs. To help you make an informed decision, follow this step-by-step guide:

Evaluate your business requirements: Before selecting a SIP trunk provider, assess your communication needs. Consider factors such as the number of concurrent calls, anticipated call volume, and desired features like call routing and voicemail-to-email.

Research reputable providers: Look for SIP trunk providers with a proven track record and positive customer reviews. Research their industry experience, customer support services, and the range of features they offer.

Compare pricing: Obtain quotes from different providers and compare their pricing structures. Consider any additional fees, such as setup fees or charges for exceeding usage limits.

Evaluate call quality: Quality of service (QoS) is crucial for ensuring clear and reliable communication. Inquire about the provider's network infrastructure, redundancy measures, and service level agreements (SLAs) that guarantee call quality.

Inquire about network coverage: Ensure that the provider's network coverage aligns with your business requirements. If your business operates in multiple locations, confirm that the provider can offer reliable service in all those areas.

Consider scalability: Assess the provider's scalability offerings to accommodate your business growth. Check if they can easily add or remove SIP channels as your communication needs evolve.

By following these steps, you can confidently select the right SIP trunk provider for your business. Remember to prioritize factors such as reliable service, competitive pricing, and excellent customer support. With the right provider, you can enhance your business communication and streamline your operations.

Benefits of Partnering with a Leading SIP Trunk Provider

Partnering with a leading SIP Trunk Provider can offer numerous advantages and play a pivotal role in enhancing your business communication. These providers bring a wealth of value-added services, reliability, and expertise to ensure seamless connectivity and efficient operations.

One of the primary benefits of partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider is the access to advanced technology and infrastructure. These providers invest heavily in state-of-the-art equipment, software, and network infrastructure, enabling businesses to leverage the latest communication solutions. This ensures that your organization stays ahead of the curve in today’s fast-paced digital landscape.

A leading SIP trunk provider also offers unmatched reliability. By utilizing redundant networks, advanced failover systems, and disaster recovery solutions, they ensure uninterrupted communication even during unforeseen events or network disruptions. This ensures seamless connectivity and minimizes downtime, allowing your business to operate smoothly.

Furthermore, collaborating with a reputable SIP trunk provider grants access to a range of value-added services. These include features such as auto-attendants, call recording, call forwarding, and virtual phone numbers. These services enhance the functionality and efficiency of your business phone system, improving customer experience and overall productivity.

In addition to the technical aspects, partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider offers the advantage of expertise and support. These providers have a team of experienced professionals who understand the intricacies of SIP trunking and can provide valuable guidance and support. Whether it's setting up the system, troubleshooting issues, or optimizing performance, their expertise ensures that you get the most out of your SIP trunking investment.

Moreover, working with a trusted SIP trunk provider strengthens your business's security and compliance. These providers implement robust security measures, including encryption protocols and firewalls, to safeguard your communication channels and protect sensitive data. This peace of mind allows you to concentrate on your core business without worrying about potential security breaches.

By partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider, businesses also benefit from cost savings. As compared to traditional phone systems, SIP trunking offers significant cost advantages, including lower long-distance and international call rates, reduced maintenance costs, and simplified infrastructure. These savings can directly impact your bottom line and contribute to overall business growth.

In conclusion, partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider offers a plethora of benefits, such as advanced technology, enhanced reliability, value-added services, expert support, improved security, and cost savings. By leveraging the expertise and services provided by these providers, businesses can streamline their communication processes, enhance productivity, and stay competitive in the ever-evolving business landscape.

Conclusion

Choosing a leading SIP trunk provider is crucial for businesses seeking enhanced communication capabilities. Throughout this article, we have explored the key features offered by these providers and how they can benefit your organization. By understanding SIP trunking services and their integration with VoIP systems, businesses can achieve seamless communication across different channels.

Robust PSTN connectivity ensures reliable communication between SIP trunks and traditional phone systems, while efficient call routing capabilities can lead to cost savings and improved efficiency. Furthermore, wholesale voice solutions offered by leading SIP trunk providers cater to the enterprise needs of businesses, enhancing their communication infrastructure.

Scalability and flexibility are inherent in SIP trunking services, allowing businesses to adapt to changing communication requirements easily. With built-in redundancy and disaster recovery solutions, interruptions to communication are minimized, ensuring business continuity. Additionally, these providers prioritize quality of service through service level agreements, guaranteeing reliable and high-quality communication.

Security features and encryption protocols offered by leading SIP trunk providers ensure the confidentiality and integrity of business communications. By carefully considering the factors mentioned in this article and conducting a thorough assessment, businesses can select the right SIP trunk provider that aligns with their specific needs and goals. Partnering with a leading SIP trunk provider brings a host of benefits, including value-added services and expertise that optimize business communication.

In conclusion, choosing a leading SIP trunk provider lays a strong foundation for reliable, secure, and efficient business communication. By embracing high-quality SIP trunking services, businesses can streamline their communication systems and gain a competitive edge in today's digital landscape.

[luckyroll3]

Save a Horse; Ride a Cowboy

Summary: On a month-long sabbatical from your stressful New York life, you escape to a remote Australian cattle station, only to meet Chan—a cocky, womanizing cowboy with no interest in commitment. The chemistry is instant, and soon you’re swept into a wild, no-strings-attached fling. He’s charming, carefree, and exactly the distraction you’re looking for. As your time on the ranch draws to a close, so does your steamy affair, leaving you refreshed… but will you be able to leave him behind? You’re not so sure.

Fuck Boy Bang Chan x Reader (f); Fling, Smut

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, smut, etc.

Word Count: 8,737

The first-class seat envelopes you like a cocoon as you sip champagne and watch the clouds drift by, miles from the suffocating bustle of New York City and the endless briefs, contracts, suits and other things you deal with as a corporate lawyer for a Fortune 500 company. You let out a long exhale, the stress already beginning to melt away. An eternity later, the Sydney airport materializes below, and you step into the blinding Australian sun, squinting as you make your way to the rental car. 

The GPS guides you into the heart of the outback, red dirt and scrubby bush stretching endlessly on either side. Sweat beads on your forehead as the AC sputters its last breath. Suddenly, the engine lets out a prolonged groan and the car rolls to a stop, steam billowing from the hood. 

"No, no, no..." You bang on the steering wheel before getting out of the car to pop the hood. You tap frantically at your phone. No service. Of course there’s no fucking service, you think to yourself as you toss the phone back into your bag. According to the GPS, the ranch is still 15 miles away. 

You sit on the scorching trunk, the heat of the metal dampened through your jeans, scanning the shimmering horizon for any sign of life. One hour passes, then two. Your mouth feels like sandpaper, your water bottle long since drained. As the sun climbs higher, a figure appears in the distance, barely a speck against the vast blue sky. It grows larger, taking the shape of a horse and rider. The horse canters closer until it towers above you, its coat glistening with sweat. Your eyes travel up the muscular legs of the rider, past slim hips and a broad chest, to settle on a face that makes your breath catch. 

You hear him say your name, watching as his pink, full lips form each syllable. His Australian accent makes the pronunciation sound sexy. 

“That’s me,” you answer. “And you are?” You use your palm as a make-shift visor to block the blinding glare cast by the bright ass sun as you look up at him, your eyes taking in his features. Those gorgeous pouty lips are accompanied by a strong jawline, a broad nose, and beautiful deep brown eyes that stand out against his tan skin. The face shaded beneath the wide-brimmed cowboy hat is absolutely breathtaking.

He swings down from the saddle in one smooth motion. "I'm Chan, the foreman," he says with a vibrant, dimpled grin. "We were getting worried when you didn't show up on time." 

His gaze rakes over you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your tank top clings to your curves. You feel stripped bare under his appraisal, heat rising under your skin that had nothing to do with the relentless sun. There is a glint in his eye, a confidence bordering on arrogance, that both unnerved and thrilled you.

"Car trouble," you reply, struggling to keep your voice even as you state the obvious. "I don't suppose you could give me a ride?"

Chan's lips quirk. "I think I can manage that." He holds out a hand, pulling you up off the car with surprising strength. "Ever ridden before?"

"Oh, I’ve ridden before,” you joke with a smirk, “just not a horse.” You swing your backpack onto your shoulders as the sound of Chan’s hearty laugh echoes through the air, his head thrown back in amusement. 

“Okay, then. Let’s get you on.” He gives you a quick lesson on how to mount the horse, instructing you where to place your hands and guiding your foot into the stirrup. With his strong hands grasping your waist firmly and steering you, you mount the horse. The leather of the saddle creaks under your thighs. After checking to make sure you are situated and comfortable, he effortlessly hops onto the horse directly in front of you. "Hold on tight then," he instructs as he throws a wink over his shoulder. "And enjoy the view."

You tentatively wrap your arms around his waist, fingertips brushing against the hard planes of his abdomen. As the horse lurches forward, you instinctively tighten your grip, your chest pressing against Chan's back. Even through his shirt, you can feel the heat of his skin, the flex of muscles as he nudges the horse forward. The rocking motion of the gallop jostles you against him in a way that feels almost indecent. You try to create some space between your bodies but Chan only chuckles, the vibration rumbling through you. 

"Relax, city girl. We've got a ways to go." He readjusts your arms around his body, bringing you back to the position you were in initially before you tried to distance yourself. 

His words held a suggestion that makes your pulse quicken. The scrubland blurs into streaks of ocher and sage as you surrender to the rhythm, to the solid warmth of Chan's body against yours. By the time the ranch comes into view, nestled in the shadow of a rust-colored mesa, your thighs ache and an unfamiliar tension coils in your core. Chan swings down and reaches up to help you dismount, his hands firm on your waist. For a charged moment, you are suspended against him, close enough to see the golden flecks in his eyes, to feel his breath ghost across your lips. Then your feet hit the ground, and the spell is broken.

"Welcome to Wandalla Station," Chan says, his voice husky. "Let me show you around." 

As he leads you past the weathered barns and corrals, you can't shake the feeling that you’d signed up for more than you bargained for. But as you sneak a glance at Chan's profile, the way his shirt stretches across his shoulders, the way his jeans cling to his round ass, the way he walks with a certain swagger, you find yourself craving the adventure. New York and its pressures feel worlds away. Here, under the endless outback sky, anything seems possible.

He leads you down a gravel path towards a small cottage. “I’ve sent someone with the tow truck to get the car and I’ll call a mechanic in the morning. You should have your luggage within the hour, but if there’s anything you need in the meantime, let me know.”

“I should be fine. Thanks.”

“This is you. There’s cold water and fizzy drinks in the refrigerator.” 

You nod as you set your backpack on the table. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Not a problem. I’m looking forward to having you with us over the next month.” He flashes his smile again before heading back out. “Dinner’s at 7:00,” he calls over his shoulder as the door shuts behind him. 

****

Over the next week, you try to throw yourself into ranch life, eager to embrace the change of pace. But it quickly becomes clear that your city skills are of little use here. The first time Chan takes you out to muster cattle, you can barely stay in the saddle. The horse seems to sense your inexperience, tossing her head and sidestepping skittishly. You’re pretty sure she gives you a side-eye. 

"Easy there, city girl," Chan calls, reining his mount effortlessly beside you. "You've got to show her who's boss."

His tone is teasing, but there's a glint in his eye that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m pretty sure she knows she’s the boss.” Chan smirks at your joke. 

You grip the reins tighter, determined to prove yourself. Chan reaches over, his hand covering yours.

"Like this," he murmurs, guiding your hands. His touch is electric, lingering a beat longer than necessary. "You'll get the hang of it soon."

And slowly, you do. The days take on a rhythm of their own - early mornings, the scent of eucalyptus on the breeze, the lowing of cattle. You learn to appreciate the burn of your muscles after a long day, the satisfaction of a job well done. 

And always, there's Chan. 

He's never far, his presence a constant pull. He flirts as easily as he breathes, his charm as natural as the landscape. You watch him joke with the jackaroos, see the way the station hands, male and female, hang on his every word. And when his gaze finds yours across the paddock, you feel the heat of it like a brand.

"Looking good out there," he says one afternoon, leaning against the fence as you brush down your horse. It’s taken the entire week, but she’s finally come around to liking you, just a little bit. But you’ll take what you can get. "You might make a proper jillaroo yet."

You roll your eyes, but you can't suppress a smile. "I thought I was just a ‘city girl’."

Chan grins, slow and devastating. "Oh, you are. But I've got a feeling about you. I think you might be fun."

Fun? you say to yourself, wondering how he’s defining the word, wondering what actually constitutes being fun in his eyes.

He saunters closer, reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers graze your cheek and your breath catches. For a suspended moment, you're caught in his orbit, drowning in the depths of his eyes and dimples. 

Then he steps back, the spell broken. He picks up the saddle and begins walking towards the barn. "Drink later?” he asks over his shoulder. “The crew's heading to the pub. I'll save you a dance?" His eyes meet yours.

You nod, not trusting your voice. As he walks away, you breathe out slowly, your skin tingling where he touched you. 

You know you're playing with fire. Chan's reputation precedes him - the love 'em and leave 'em type, a heartbreaker with a trail of conquests, a literal fuck boy. But out here, with the red dirt beneath your feet and the vastness of the sky above, consequences feel far away. 

That night at the pub, the crowd is lively; there are workers from the ranch as well as locals from town. You perch at the bar, watching Chan work the room. He's magnetic, laughter trailing in his wake. When he catches you looking, he winks, that damnable dimple flashing. 

As the live band plays, you watch Chan dance with a few girls. As he thanks one girl and she walks away, another swoops in to take her spot. He sways with each of them, their bodies grinding against his as he guides them expertly through the moves. He’s a great dancer. Your body aches to be next to him, to feel his touch.

Eventually, he finds his way over to you, leaning casually against the bar in front of your stool. 

“How’s your night going?”

You take a sip of your beer, savoring the cool liquid as it slides down your throat. "Not bad. Though I think I'm still adjusting to outback nightlife." 

Chan chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What, this isn't like your fancy New York clubs?" 

"Not quite," you laugh. The pub is crowded and noisy, music blaring from the speakers now that the band is packing up. The air is thick with the scent of beer and sweat. She hasn’t been to a place like this since law school. "But it has its charms." 

"Oh yeah?" Chan leans in closer, his voice dropping low. "And what might those be?" 

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity you find there makes you clear your throat. You're suddenly aware of how close he is, the heat radiating from his body. "Well," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady, "Good music. Cold beer. And…the company's not bad either." 

Chan's grin widens. “Well good then.” He finishes his beer and turns to face the bar. “Lia honey?” You turn to see he’s referring to the pretty brunette bartender at the other end of the bar, currently handing off two full pitchers or beer. 

“Another one?” she asks as she walks to the register to deposit the cash she was just handed. 

“Yes, ma’am. And I’m covering her tab,” he points his thumb in my direction.

“Got it.”

Chan returns his gaze to me. “Anything you want, it’s on me.”

“Thanks. So do you do this for all the ranch guests.”

“Not at all.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Just the ones I find incredibly sexy.”

“Here you go, Chris.” Lia slides him another bottle of beer. 

“Thanks, mate,” he says without breaking his eye contact with you. 

“I guess I’ll take that as a complement,” you respond when Lia walks away. 

“You should. You are incredibly hot, city girl.” He brings the bottle to his lips, taking a large gulp. He licks beer from his lips before another devastating grin crosses his face. 

You try to think of a response, but you’re a bit flustered. Instead of speaking, you sip your beer. Chan notices and chuckles at the effect he’s having on you. 

“Channie!” someone calls from the pool table. “You’re holding up the fucking game. Are you coming or do you need more time to flirt?”

“I’m coming, ya cunt!” he yells, before turning his gaze back to you. “Talk more later, yeah?” You nod. “Great!” 

While Chan and his friends play pool, you continue to watch him. As Chan lines up his cue, muscles flexing beneath his tight black t-shirt, you lean against the back of the stool and take a sip of your beer, your eyes focused on him as he shoots. He notices you watching and grins when you don’t avert your gaze. The game continues, but your eyes keep drifting back to him, each time meeting his gaze. A small smile creeps across your lips as you both share a moment of silent understanding before he takes his next shot.

"He's trouble, that one," a voice says beside you. You turn to see the bartender leaning against her forearms on the bar, her smile knowing. "Chan Christopher Bahng, breaking hearts across the Outback."

"You know him well?" you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

She laughs. "Everyone knows Chan. I'm Lia, by the way.” You introduce yourself and shake her hand. “He and I go way back. We’ve been friends since the first day of Kinder."

“What's his deal?” you ask, intrigued. 

“His deal?” Lia repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Chan’s a good bloke, don’t get me wrong. But when it comes to women…. He’s a notorious flirt. He manages to have a fling with every new woman who moves to town and every tourist who passes through the ranch. He can’t help himself.”

You take another sip of your beer, contemplating her words. So, he’s a smooth-talking player, you think to yourself. I can work with that. But men that looked and acted like him often had small dicks or were bad in bed. You were willing to find out though.

“And despite him always telling them he’s not interested in anything serious or something more, they always fall for him…then have their hearts broken.”

“You too?” You hope she doesn’t think you’re being forward or nosy. 

“Eew, gross.” She makes a face like she’s dry heaving and that causes you to laugh. “Fuck no! He’s like my brother. Where you ladies see hot guy, I see a dirt eating, hair pulling, crybaby.”

“Heh! Sorry, I was just curious.”

“No worries. Can I get you another? Or something more expensive since Channie’s paying?” She wiggles her eyebrows and chuckles.

“Oh Lia, you and I will be great friends,” you say with a laugh. “I’ll just do another beer.”

As you watch Chan flirt and charm, you can't help but imagine his hands on your skin, his lips on your neck. The wanting is a physical ache, a pull low in your belly. 

Later, alone in your bed, you let your hands wander, tracing your fingers over your body. You imagine Chan above you, his eyes dark with desire. You feel his hands exploring every inch of you, his touch feather-light, and the heat of his breath against your ear as you sink your fingers into your core. As you pump your digits in and out, and alternate with rubbing your clit, you can’t help but to moan. When you cum, his name is a whisper on your lips. 

In the stillness after, you stare at the shadows on the ceiling. You know this is dangerous territory. You came here to escape complications, not to create new ones. But as sleep claims you, it's his face you see, that roguish grin inviting you to take a chance.

****

Your second week is going much better. You’ve learned a lot and are already showing signs of improvement. And the tasks you initially found annoying and tedious are now calming and meditative.

The sound of footsteps echoes through the stables, jolting you from your thoughts. You've been cleaning tack for the better part of an hour, the monotonous task giving your mind ample time to wander—to him. 

"Working hard or hardly working?" His voice is a lazy drawl, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turn to find Chan leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk playing on his lips. "Some of us take our jobs seriously," you retort, but there's no real bite to your words.

He saunters closer, invading your space. The air feels electric, charged with the tension that's been building between the two of you. "And some of us know how to have a little fun."

You roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance even as your heart races. "Is that what you call it? Fun?"

His hand reaches out, brushing a straw of grass from your shoulder. His touch lingers, trailing across your shoulder and down your arm. "You telling me you don't want to have fun with me, city girl?” His eyes lock on yours for a second before he leans down to whisper in your ear. “How long are you gonna play hard to get?" He pulls back to resume looking at you.

Your breath hitches. This close, you can see the faint scar above his brow. You can smell the scent of him—leather, vanilla, and sweat. 

"I'm not looking for complications," you manage, your voice shakier than you'd like.

His grin widens. "Who said anything about complications? I'm a simple man, sweetheart. I see something I want, I ask for it. I see something I like, I go for it."

And there it is, laid bare. The offer, the temptation. No pretenses, no promises. Just raw, unbridled desire.

Your eyes drop to his mouth. Those full, sensual lips that have starred in countless of your late-night fantasies. "And what is it you like? What is it that you want?" Your gaze flits back up to his eyes. You can be just as direct when you want to.

He leans in again, his breath hot against your ear. "I think you know."

Something snaps inside you, the last of your reservations crumbling. You surge forward, capturing his mouth with yours. He responds instantly, his lips fierce and demanding. It's a clash of teeth and tongues, a kiss that's more battle than caress.

His hands grip your waist, lifting you onto the workbench. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer. You can feel him, hard and insistent, pressing against you. The two of you make out furiously while Chan rubs his contained, hard cock against your crotch. 

When he brings his hand to your belt buckle, you hesitate. "Wait," you gasp, breaking away. "Not here."

His eyes are dark, pupils blown with lust. "Then where?"

You shoot him a coy smile. "Tonight, after dinner. My cabin." He brings his lips back to yours and kisses you slowly, deeply for another minute.

“Tonight. After dinner. Your cabin,” he repeats, each phrase punctuated with a kiss. 

Later that evening, in the privacy of your cabin, you discover just how talented Chan's hands and mouth can be. He plays your body like an instrument, coaxing out symphonies of pleasure. His mouth moves from your lips down your neck. He leaves no part of you untouched - hot breath against sweaty skin, teeth and tongue tracing every curve along your collarbone, then moving to your breasts. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, tugging, biting, teasing, before lavishing the same attention on the other breast. His lips continue their journey across your body, stopping briefly to kiss your belly button, then landing between your legs. 

He spreads your legs wide and buries his face between them, inhaling your scent deeply. His stubble scratches against your thighs as he teases you with gentle licks and nips. His tongue finds your clit and sucks gently, sending shocks outward. Then he slips several fingers inside you. You arch your back, moaning softly. "Chan...", you whisper, amazed at how good this feels. Your hips buckle up to match his movements, desperate for more. His fingers delve deeper, finding your G-spot and dragging against it rhythmically. You keep reaching down to tug at his hair, telling him how good he is without words. He groans against your clit, a mix of satisfaction and desire. The resulting vibrations teasing you more. You lose track of time, caught in the haze of pleasure. You're on the brink of coming but you want this to last forever. As you push him away, he looks up at you and grins. 

“Come here,” you whisper, and he is all too happy to oblige. He slowly climbs up your body and captures your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

He positions his dick at your entrance, inserting just the tip before pausing. “Tell me you want it,” he demands, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“I want it,” you reply, staring into his eyes, 

When he finally sinks his hard cock into you, it's with a completeness that steals your breath. He’s huge; the girth fills you up and stretches you out, making you ache for more. His hips push into yours, rocking you against his shaft.

“Oh god,” you moan as his thick length slides in and out of you, grazing against your sweet spot with precision on each pass. You lose yourself in his intoxicating rhythm, in the slick slide of skin on skin. His touch is everywhere—bruising, worshiping, consuming. His mouth claims yours, adoration and lust mingling in the messiest of kisses. 

Your hands explore his broad shoulders as he positions himself deeper within you, pumping in and out of your wet heat. You dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks that will likely fade but that you hope will remain a reminder of this moment between the two of you for days to come.

Your climax is again building quickly, the waves of heat starting to pulsate outwards from your pussy. He murmurs dirty things in your ear that only serve to heighten the sensations. It simultaneously pulls you back to reality and causes you to lose yourself all in one breathless moment. 

"Almost there," he growls against your neck before biting lightly. You aren’t sure if it is a statement or a question. Your sharp intake of breath only fuels him, driving him harder into you as he pulls out to slam back in with a force that makes stars explode behind your eyes.

And when you shatter, it's with his name on your lips, coupled with praise and expletives escaping in a burst of raw pleasure. You come hard against him, writhing underneath him as a guttural sound escapes from somewhere deep within your soul—a mix between pain and ecstasy and pure bliss—the kind that only comes from being truly fucked well. And if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t even remember the last time you got fucked, much less the last time you were fucked like this. Fucked into the stratosphere.

He groans loudly, too, at feeling how wet you are when your walls compress around him, thrusting himself faster within you as cum explodes from his tip into the condom. He buries himself inside with one last hard thrust before collapsing beside you. 

In the afterglow, as you lie tangled in sweat-dampened sheets, Chan trails idle fingers along your spine. "Not bad for a city girl," he teases.

You swat at him playfully. "You're not so bad yourself, cowboy." You were impressed and he’d already proved you wrong. Big dick and good in bed. What more could a girl want?

He grins, that boyish, carefree grin that first drew you in. "Oh, sweetheart, you ain't seen nothing yet."

And as he rolls you beneath him, his mouth hot on your neck, you know he's right. This is just the beginning. The start of something reckless and wild and utterly intoxicating.

In the days that follow, you find yourself in Chan's bed more often than your own. Stolen moments between chores, frenzied couplings in the hush of night. Each touch, each kiss, is a brand, a claim. 

He takes you apart with expert hands, learning your body, your desires, the right combination of buttons to push. He whispers filthy promises in your ear, telling you all the wicked things he plans to do. And he makes good on every single one. He also always makes sure you cum every single time.

It's a haze of lust and sweat and pleasure so intense it borders on pain. You've never been so thoroughly ravaged, so completely consumed. Chan is insatiable, and you match him, hunger for hunger.

But it's more than just the sex. It's the way he makes you laugh, the easy banter that flows between you. It's the unexpected moments of tenderness—a brush of his hand, a soft look when he thinks you're not watching.

You remind yourself that this is temporary. That you're both just in it for fun. But in the quiet moments, when he's draped around you, one hand playing in your hair, the other hand tracing shapes into your hip, his heartbeat steady against your back, you can almost let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is something real, something lasting.

You know it's foolish. Chan is a wildfire, burning bright and hot. And you? You're just the kindling, destined to be consumed. But as he pulls you closer, his lips finding yours in the dark, you can't bring yourself to care. For now, in this moment, you let yourself burn. Let yourself drown in his flames.

The days blur together in a haze of stolen glances, teasing touches, and searing encounters that leave you aching for more. Chan is an addiction, one you can't seem to shake. Every time you tell yourself to pull back, to remember that this is just a fling, he's there with that cocky grin, those bulging muscles, and those skilled hands, drawing you back in.

"You're thinking too hard again," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he comes up behind you in the stables. "I can practically hear the gears turning."

You lean back into him, savoring the solid warmth of his chest. "Maybe I like thinking."

He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "I can think of much better things for you to be doing."

His hands skim your sides, teasing, promising. His mouth sucks on your neck. You bite your lip, desire warring with doubt. "Chan..."

"Shh." He turns you to face him, his eyes dark with want. "Stop overthinking. Just feel."

And then he's kissing you, deep and demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs. You cling to him, lost in the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against yours. Nothing exists but this, but him.

It's Lia who finally pulls you back to reality. Over drinks at the local bar, she fixes you with a knowing look. "You're falling for him."

You startle, nearly choking on your beer. "What? No. It's not like that. We're just having fun."

She arches a brow. "Honey, I've seen this story play out a hundred times. Girl comes to ranch, falls for Chan's charm, thinks she can change him. It never ends well."

Your cheeks burn, shame and indignation blooming in your chest. "I'm not trying to change him.” And you weren’t. Chan had been very clear about what this was and what it wasn’t. You had also agreed to not make it a thing. “I know what this is. It’s short-term fun. In less than 10 days, I’ll be back on the other side of the world, back to my life, and Chan will be a distant memory. A lovely memory, but a memory all the same. There will be no declarations of love or pleas for change." It sounded convincing. You just hoped you actually believed it yourself.

Lia's expression softens. "I hope so. Chan's a good guy, but he's not the settling down type. I'd hate to see you get hurt. I kinda like you."

“I appreciate that. But you don’t need to worry.” You smile at her before taking another sip of beer.

Her words echo in your head over the next few days. You try to distance yourself, to rebuild the walls Chan so easily tore down, in an attempt to maintain the casualness of your relationship. But he's always there, drawing you in with a look, a touch, a filthy whisper in the dark.

It comes to a head one evening. You're in the stables, brushing down your favorite horse, when you hear a familiar giggle. Your heart clenches as you peer around the corner to see Chan leaning close to one of the new ranch hands, his grin wide and flirtatious. You recognize that look, that pose, that tone.

Jealousy claws at your throat, bitter and choking. You know you have no right, no claim on him. But the sight still stings, a harsh reminder of what you are. What you aren't.

You avoid Chan for the rest of the day, throwing yourself into your work, and using the time to remember and recommit to the original purpose of your entanglements with him. But he finds you that night, concern etched on his handsome face.

"Hey, have I done something wrong?" he asks, reaching for you.

You step back, crossing your arms over your chest. "No. I just... I thought you might want some space. To spend time with... other people. I feel like I’ve been monopolizing your time." You uncross your arms, hoping to seem less closed off.

Understanding dawns in his eyes. "Is this about Jess? We were just talking."

"I know." You swallow hard, hating the quaver in your voice. "I just don't want to crowd you, or cramp your style."

Chan frowns, stepping closer. "Is that what you think? That I'm tired of you?"

You shrug, looking away. "I wouldn't blame you if you were. I'm sure you want some variety."

Strong fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I want you." His voice is low, intense. "I'm having the time of my life with you. I'm not ready for this to end."

Butterflies flutter in your chest. "You're not?"

"Hell no." He grins, that familiar cocky tilt of his lips. "I mean to have you every way I can, as many times as I can, before you go back to your real life and forget all about little old me."

"I could never forget you," you whisper, the truth of it aching in your bones.

His eyes soften, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Then let me give you some more memories to take with you."

He kisses you then, deep and slow, his hands sliding under your shirt. You melt into him, into the heat of his touch, the promise of his words. For tonight, for the next week, he's yours. 

And you plan to make every second count.

The days of your final week blur together in a haze of passion and pleasure, stolen moments and heated glances. You work side by side during the day, the sun beating down on your skin, sweat dripping down your spine. But every brush of Chan's hand against yours, every smoldering look, promises a replay of the previous night's ecstasy.

And oh, how he delivers on that promise.

Each night, he takes you to new heights, exploring your body with a dedication that borders on worship. He learns every curve, every sensitive spot, playing you like a finely tuned instrument until you're singing his name in breathless gasps and pleas.

But it's not just physical. In the quiet moments after, when you're tangled together, spent and sated, he makes you laugh with his wild stories and shameless flirting. He listens intently as you share your own tales, offering bits of wisdom wrapped in his signature cheekiness.

You try to memorize every detail - the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the rumble of his laugh against your ear, the shape of his dimples, the feel of his calloused hands on your skin. You etch them into your brain, a bittersweet collection to carry back to the life you left behind.

And then, suddenly, your last night is upon you.

There's a heaviness in the air as you walk into Chan's cottage, a sense of finality that weighs on your chest. He feels it too, you can see it in the set of his shoulders, the flicker of something raw in his eyes.

"So this is it, huh?" His voice is light, but there's an undercurrent of emotion he can't quite hide.

"I guess so." You aim for a smile, but it wobbles at the edges. "Time for me to turn back into a pumpkin."

"Nah," he steps into you, hands settling on your hips. "You're a goddess, remember? Whether you're here or in New York."

Your heart clenches, affection and sorrow twisting together. You'll miss this, miss him, more than you ever expected. But you know this is how it has to be.

You wind your arms around his neck, fingers threading into his hair. "Then take me to bed. Give me something to remember you by."

His grin is slow, wicked, sending heat spiraling through your veins. "Oh, baby. When I'm done with you, you won't be able to think of anything else."

And then he's kissing you, deep and desperate, like he wants to crawl inside you and never leave. You answer in kind, pouring every ounce of passion, every unspoken feeling, into the press of your lips, the slide of your tongue.

Clothes hit the floor in a flurry of impatient hands, the need to feel skin on skin overwhelming in its intensity. He walks you back to the bed, lays you down like you're something precious, something to be cherished.

And then he sets about making good on his promise.

He worships every inch of you with hands and lips and tongue, bringing you to the brink again and again only to pull back, to tease, to prolong the sweet agony of your desire. He whispers filthy praise into your skin, telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are, how he's going to make this a night you'll never forget.

When he finally sinks into you, it's with a groan that sounds like it's been punched out of him, raw and harsh and so unbearably sexy. He starts to move, deep, rolling thrusts that light you up from the inside, sparking along your nerve endings like wildfire.

You match him stroke for stroke, hips rising to meet his, nails raking down his back. He hisses as you scrape his skin. You're lost in him, in the motion of your bodies, the mingled sounds of your gasps and moans, the searing heat building in your core.

It's both too much and not enough, this feeling, this moment. You want to stay here forever, suspended in this blissful torment, this excruciating ecstasy. But you can feel your orgasm approaching, the coil winding tighter and tighter, demanding release.

"Chan..." It's a plea, a prayer, a benediction. 

He knows, he always knows. "I've got you," he rasps, his rhythm increasing, driving into you with a force that steals your breath. "Let go. Cum for me."

And you do, his name a broken cry on your lips as rapture crashes over you, through you, exploding in dazzling bursts of light behind your eyelids. He follows a heartbeat later, your name a reverent groan as he spills himself inside the condom, his face a mask of exquisite agony.

You cling to each other as you both come down, sweat-slicked and trembling, exchanging soft, sipping kisses that slowly bank the fire still smoldering in your veins. There's an ache in your chest, a looming sense of loss, but you push it away. This isn't the time for sorrow.

This is a time for gratitude, for celebration. For the joy and freedom and unbridled passion you found in his arms, in this wild Outback that now feels more like home than any place you've ever known.

You fall asleep wrapped around each other, your head on his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath your ear. In the morning, you'll untangle your limbs, share a final, lingering kiss. You'll drive away with a smile on your face and an unfamiliar lightness in your soul, ready to face whatever comes next.

But that's tomorrow. Tonight, in this perfect, shining moment, there is only Chan, and the blissful afterglow of being thoroughly, wonderfully, unforgettably fucked.

You wake a few hours later, surprised to see it’s still dark out. As you slowly open your eyes, the warmth of Chan’s body next to you envelops you. His peaceful expression makes your heart flutter. His thick, full lips call to you and you kiss them gently, causing him to stir awake.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs. “What a nice way to wake up.” He pulls you on top of him and deepens the kiss, his growing erection pressing against your folds. Your own body responds, as you involuntarily begin to grind your crotch against him resulting in him quickly growing harder beneath you. “Shit,” he whispers as his cock springs to attention. “The things you do to me….”

“Well, I’m about to do it one last time.” You take his bottom lip in between your teeth and pull gently before letting go and kissing it. 

Without a word, he reaches over to the nightstand to pull a condom from the decorative glass jar he uses to hold them.

But you quickly grab his arm, shaking your head in protest. "No," you say softly but firmly.

“No?” His eyes narrow to slits as he examines your face.

“No.” You move your hand to his cock, gently massaging it with slow strokes up and down. You make sure to run your palm over the tip each time you reach the top, eliciting soft moans from him. “I want to feel all of you against my walls,” you whisper, biting your lip seductively. Your crotch has not slowed its delicious grind against the base of his shaft. “If that’s okay.”

He can’t contain the wide grin that spreads across his face, his excitement evident at the prospect of fucking you raw. “Is that so?” he asks amused, the pronunciation of the last word heavy with his Australian drawl. You nod. He chuckles before continuing in a soft voice. “Whatever you want, love.” 

You lift your hips to position yourself over his cock before slowly sliding yourself down, allowing your head to roll back as you revel in each inch and savor every sensation as you take him all the way in.

Your body moves with a fluid grace as you ride Chan's length, the muscles of your thighs clenching and releasing in perfect rhythm with your hips. His hands find their way to your waist, gripping it tightly as he watches you. You bring your hands to his chest, stabilizing yourself on top of him. 

The bed springs creak in harmony with your movements as you continue to grind against him, feeling his cock hit every spot that needs hitting. You bite your bottom lip, trying to hold back a moan at the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

As you pick up speed, Chan's grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helps to guide your hips back and forth as he thrusts upwards. Each thrust makes you feel both vulnerable and powerful at once. You look down at him, taking in the sheer desire etched on his face, and it ignites a fire within you. You quicken your pace even more, loving the way his eyes roll back into his head with pleasure.

You lean down, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss that leaves you both panting for air. You break the kiss and let out a low growl, nipping at his jawline before looking at him again. "You like that?" you ask breathlessly.

His response is a groan mixed with another moan as he nods, his eyes still closed tightly. "God yes."

Encouraged by his response, you speed up once more, your movements becoming more frenzied as you grind against Chan with renewed intensity while you chase your final release. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," Chan groans, his hips bucking up to meet yours. “Why do you feel so good?”

You lean down, pressing your chest against his as you kiss him deeply. The change in angle causes him to hit even deeper inside you, making you gasp against his lips. Chan takes advantage, his tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts up to meet your movements.

You can feel yourself getting close, that familiar tension building. Chan seems to sense it too. One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and it's like a match to gasoline.

Suddenly, your body goes taut, and your inner walls clench rhythmically around Chan’s cock as you cry out, “Ahhhh!” The sight, sound, and feel of you coming undone pushes Chan over the edge. He groans your name. 

You rest your forehead against his as the two of you try to catch your breaths. You feel the sticky mess start to slide out of you. You don’t mind though, instead feeling a sense of contentment. Apparently neither does he; he is just as lost in the moment, his eyes closed and lips parted, as you breathe in each other’s air. Neither of you feel compelled to move and separate from each other to clean up the evidence of what was surely a poor decision on both of your parts. Absolutely fucking reckless; you both know better. Yet, in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The need for more was undeniable, and rational thinking be damned. 

The bad decisions always feel so right, don’t they.

He breaks the silence first. “That’s certainly one way to say goodbye,” he says with a grin against your lips. 

You chuckle and press a kiss on them. “Didn’t I tell you I could ride?” you whisper. 

His laughter rings out in the room as he wraps his arms tightly around you. 

****

The sun is high and hot as Chan loads your bags into the rental car, the red dirt of the Outback stretching out behind him. There's a bittersweet tinge to the air, a sense of an ending, but also of a new beginning.

You lean against the car, watching him, trying to memorize the lines of his face, the play of muscles under his bronzed skin. He catches you looking and flashes that familiar, cocky grin.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he teases, closing the trunk with a decisive thud.

"Don't tempt me," you shoot back. "I might just wallpaper my apartment with them."

He laughs, sauntering over to you. "I'll send you some nudes to add to the collection."

"You do that." The banter is easy, familiar; it soothes the ache of leaving. "Just don't be surprised if they end up on a billboard in Times Square."

"Mate, I'd be proud." He settles his hands on your hips, his touch igniting sparks under your skin despite the layers between you. "I'll show those city boys what they're missing."

Your chuckle is a little wobbly, emotion welling up in your throat. "I'm going to miss you," you confess softly. "Miss this."

His eyes gentle, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Me too," he murmurs. "More than you know." He stares deeply into your eyes. “Think you might ever return? Cause I certainly wouldn’t mind if you did,” he says softly.

You turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “If I did, I’d need luxury accommodations next time.” You say, only half-joking. “I don’t know that I could rough it again!” You grin.

He snorts. “Ha! I thought you handled it well enough, city girl. Five-star accommodations can be arranged, if necessary.”

“That would be much appreciated. And if you’re ever in Manhattan, you should give me a ring.”

"Tempting." His thumb strokes your cheekbone, his gaze turning thoughtful. “New York City might be a bit too posh for a bushman like me. But if I ever make it there, you’ll be my first call." 

"I'll hold you to that," you whisper. 

Silence stretches between the two of you as you stare into his eyes. And then he’s kissing you, soft and sweet and full of unspoken emotion.

It ends too soon, as all good things must. 

He leans in, rests his forehead against yours. "This doesn't have to be the end, if we don't want it to be," he whispers. 

You pull away from him and raise an eyebrow. “Oh wooooow,” you say in a singsong voice. “Did someone catch feelings?”

A blush starts at his neck and travels up his face to his ears as he runs his fingers through his hair. He smirks and responds, “Maybe just a little.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “But don’t tell anyone; it could ruin my rep.”

You laugh and push him away playfully. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Before you know it, you're behind the wheel, the engine humming beneath you. Chan leans in the window, his smile soft around the edges.

"Drive safe," he says quietly. "And don't forget about me when you're back in your fancy office, bossing people around."

You swallow hard, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. "Never," you vow. 

And then you're pulling away, the ranch and the man getting smaller in your rearview mirror. You watch until you can't see him anymore, until the Outback swallows him up like a mirage; there one moment and gone the next.

But he's not gone, not really. He's there in the ache of your muscles, the bruises on your ass, the bite marks on your neck, the delicious soreness between your thighs. He's seared into your skin, imprinted on your soul. 

The drive to the airport passes in a haze of memories, snapshots of stolen moments and heated encounters flashing through your mind. The curve of his smile, the roughness of his hands, the way he made you feel alive, desired, free. It was a fantasy come to life, and now it's time to return to reality.

Check-in and security are a blur, and then you're settling into your first-class seat, the plush leather cradling your weary body. As the plane lifts off, you gaze out the window, watching the harsh, beautiful landscape fall away below you.

Despite the melancholy tugging at your heart, you feel lighter somehow, unburdened. The weight of expectation, of obligation, seems to have disappeared somewhere in the red dirt and endless skies of the Outback.

You came looking for escape, for distraction, and you found so much more. Freedom. Passion. A piece of yourself you hadn't even realized was missing.

And Chan... The thought of him brings a small, secret smile to your lips. He'd been everything you needed and nothing you expected. A friend, a lover, a safe place to land. Not a forever thing, but a perfect interlude.

As the plane carries you back to your life, to the bustle and pressure of the city, you close your eyes and let yourself drift, savoring the last vestiges of this stolen time.

You don't know what the future holds, if your paths will ever cross again. But you know you'll carry a piece of him, of this wild, perfect dreamtime, with you always. A reminder of who you are, of who you can be, when you strip away the masks and expectations.

After all, you muse, smiling to yourself as the clouds engulf you, that's the beauty of a fling. It's fleeting, but it's forever a bright flash of light against the darkness, a memory to hold onto when the real world intrudes.

And as for Chan... well, the Outback will always be there, waiting, if you ever need to find yourself again. And maybe, just maybe, so will he.

With that thought, you chug the rest of your champagne, then let yourself sink into sleep, dreaming of red dirt and strong hands, of laughter and passion beneath a sea of stars, as the miles unspool behind you, carrying you forward, carrying you home.

My Masterlist

[leaderwon]

VALENTINE'S DAY WITH SUNGHOON!

Synopsis : Sunghoon takes you stargazing on Valentine's night. Wrapped in blankets under the sparkling sky, you share heartfelt words and make wishes that only the stars can hear.

Warnings : Kisses, A little bit corny? ig lol

Wc : 4k+

masterlist

Valentine's Day had always been a day filled with flowers, chocolates, and grand gestures. But this year, Sunghoon had something different in mind. When he texted you earlier in the day with only a cryptic message that read, “Dress warm and trust me” your curiosity was piqued.

Now, as you stood bundled up in your thickest coat and scarf, you watched Sunghoon double check the contents of his car trunk. He was dressed in a cozy sweater and jeans, his sharp features softened by the excitement dancing in his eyes.

“Got everything?” you asked, unable to hide your smile. He grinned, closing the trunk with a satisfying thud. “Yup. Are you ready for the best Valentine's night ever?” “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you teased, though your heart was already racing with anticipation.

The drive was peaceful, filled with the low hum of music and the occasional chatter about your day. Sunghoon's hand found yours on the console, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. The simple touch made your chest warm despite the chilly weather.

After about an hour, Sunghoon pulled off the main road onto a narrow dirt path. Tall trees lined either side, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

“Are you taking me to a secret hideout?” you joked. He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Something like that. You’ll see.”

When the car finally came to a stop, Sunghoon hopped out and hurried to your side to open the door. “Come on” he urged, his excitement infectious.

You stepped out into the crisp night air, your breath visible in the cold. The area was completely secluded, with an open field stretching out before you. Above, the sky was a canvas of stars, each one twinkling like a tiny diamond.

“Wow” you breathed, tilting your head back to take it all in. “Pretty amazing, right?” Sunghoon said, his voice filled with pride. You nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

He grabbed a thick blanket from the trunk and led you to a spot in the middle of the field. After spreading out the blanket, he gestured for you to sit down.

“It’ll be warmer if we sit close,” he added with a sheepish grin.

You didn’t need any convincing. Settling beside him, you let him wrap another blanket around both of you. The warmth from his body was immediate and comforting.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, simply gazing up at the night sky. The stars seemed endless, each one shimmering with a quiet magic.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a star?” you asked softly. Sunghoon tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I think I’d rather be down here with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “That was smooth” you said, laughing to hide how flustered you were. He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I try.”

The conversation drifted to memories of your relationship, your first date, late night phone calls, and all the little moments that had brought you closer. Sunghoon’s laughter was a melody you never tired of hearing.

As the night grew colder, Sunghoon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small thermos. “Hot chocolate?” he offered. “You came prepared” you said, impressed.

He poured two cups, the rich aroma filling the air. You took a sip, savoring the warmth that spread through your body.

“This is perfect” you said. Sunghoon looked at you, his expression soft. “You make everything perfect.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Setting down your cup, you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. The world felt quiet and still, as if it had paused just for the two of you.

“Do you want to make a wish?” Sunghoon asked suddenly. You lifted your head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He pointed to a particularly bright star. “They say if you make a wish on the brightest star, it might come true.” “Is that a scientific fact?” you teased. He chuckled. “No, but it can’t hurt to try.”

Closing your eyes, you made a silent wish, your heart filled with hope and love. When you opened them, Sunghoon was watching you with an unreadable expression.

“What did you wish for?” he asked. “I can’t tell you,” you said, grinning. “It won’t come true if I do.” “Fair enough,” he said. “But I think I already have everything I could ever wish for.”

Tears pricked your eyes at his words. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” “Only because you are special” he said, his voice earnest.

The night continued with more laughter, stories, and moments of quiet contentment. As the stars glittered above, you knew this Valentine's Day would be etched in your memory forever.

When it was finally time to leave, Sunghoon helped you to your feet and gathered the blankets.

“Thank you for tonight” you said as you walked back to the car. “Anytime” he said. “But I have one condition.” “What’s that?”

“We have to do this again next year.” You smiled. “It’s a deal.”

As you drove back, hand in hand, you knew that no matter where life took you, nights like this would always remind you of the love and magic you shared with Sunghoon.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[ambiguous-avery]

Cake by the Ocean

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You x Sam Winchester | WC: 971

Summary: You said it without thinking (or did you?), and they heard you loud and clear.

Tags/Warnings: Established polyship (no wincest), fluff, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: Another one for my Summer Snapshot Challenge! I love a good misunderstanding. You know the boys would totally be into it! 💜 Title from the song “Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE. Summer Snapshot Challenge 2025 Masterlist

It was a rare moment for the three of you. No monsters. No ghosts. No licking wounds in a shitty motel room. For the first time in as long as you could remember since you started hunting alongside the Winchesters, the three of you were able to enjoy an honest-to-God vacation.

You, Sam, and Dean were sprawled out beneath a large, striped umbrella, beach towels spread out beneath you. Sam was working his way through a paperback mystery on one side of you, and Dean enjoyed an ice cold beer on the other, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. And you were tucked right in between the two shirtless boys, happily sipping away at something fruity with a paper umbrella while enjoying the view – of the waves and your men.

“Mmm,” you murmured, stretching your legs out and polishing off your drink. “I could really go for sex on the beach.”

Dean practically choked on his beer, and Sam’s attention was abruptly pulled away from his story. You blinked at them innocently. “What?”

Dean pushed his glasses up onto his head, squinting at you like you had just grown a second head – but, you know, a hot second head.

“You usually make those kinds of declarations before noon, or is this, like, a vacation thing?” Dean asked, his eyes flicking from your mouth to your thighs then back up to your face.

“Am I wrong? You can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like the perfect thing to cap off a day like this. Warm sand, ocean breeze, a little salt on the skin…” You grinned. Sam cleared his throat and lowered his book.

“You, uh, been thinking about this for a while?” 

“Are we talking like ‘sand in places it doesn’t belong’ kind of sex on the beach? Or an improvised blanket situation?” Dean turned to face you fully, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like you’ve thought it through a bit already, Dean.”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, “there are logistics involved.”

“You know that we do have a motel room like fifteen minutes away from here, right?” Sam’s tone was a mix of exasperation and matter-of-fact, but clad in only his swim trunks, there was no hiding the flush creeping down his neck.

“Oh my god you two are adorable.” You threw your head back with a laugh. Both Winchesters shared a look, confusion etching across their features. “I’m talking about the drink,” you clarified, shaking your empty glass so the ice clinked against the sides. “Vodka, peach schnapps, cranberry juice? Sound familiar?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Dean's mouth fell open slightly, and Sam's face went from flushed to absolutely crimson. You watched as the realization dawned on them both, and you couldn't help but dissolve into another fit of giggles. “Oh, you should see your faces right now,” you gasped between laughs, clutching your stomach. “Dean, you look like a fish. And Sam–” You turned to the younger Winchester, who you swore was trying to hide behind his paperback. “Are you trying to disappear into that book?”

Dean recovered first, as he always did, that cocky grin sliding back into place as he set his beer in the sand and rolled over top of you.

“Oh, you think you're real funny, don't you?” he drawled, caging you in with his arms as sand shifted beneath your towel. His green eyes sparkled with mischief and something darker. “You did that on purpose. Getting us all worked up over a cocktail.”

“I think I'm hilarious,” you shot back, not even trying to hide your grin as you looked up at him. The sun created a halo around his messy hair, and damn if he didn't look good enough to eat. “But I could go for the other kind, though. Blanket, not sand. Unless you two have strong opinions otherwise…” That stopped him short. Sam's book hit the sand with a soft thud.

“You're gonna be the death of us,” Dean muttered, but he was smiling as he said it, leaning down to press a kiss just above your collarbone.

“What a way to go though, right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Dean replied, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “Beats getting ganked by a ghost any day.”

“Guys, we're on a public beach,” Sam reminded you both, though he made no move to pick up his fallen book. Instead, he shifted closer, his large hand sliding the hem of your sun dress up and coming to rest on your bare thigh.

“Never stopped us before,” you teased, enjoying the way Sam's eyes darkened at your words. Dean chuckled against your neck.

“Remember that case in Arizona? Behind the abandoned theater?” Dean hummed.

“Or the cave in Oregon,” Sam added unexpectedly, a rare smirk playing on his lips. You sat up slightly, pushing Dean back just enough to look between them.

“Well, well, well. Look who's suddenly on board with public indecency.”

“I never said I wasn't on board,” Sam said, his voice quieter but no less heated. “I just like to… assess the situation first.”

“Glad one of us is responsible,” Dean said, not taking his eyes off you. “Always thinking with his big brain.”

“I think I’d prefer if you two thought with something else right now,” you said, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. Sam looked like his brain had just blue-screened, and Dean was looking at you like you were a challenge and a reward wrapped up neatly in a sundress.

“Careful, sweetheart. You keep talking like that, and you’re getting more than a drink with dinner.” The ice cubes in your glass clinked against each other as it slipped from your grasp and onto the beach towel under you.

“Here’s hoping.”

---

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Dean taglist: @jollyhunter @aylacavebear @globetrotter28 @bettystonewell @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @maddie0101 @sir-thisisadndserver @colours-of-thewind @kiddieclaws @mostlymarvelgirl @rurwu @imalapdog @losers-clvb @zyra-7 @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @alexfms97 @jbear750 @tinysnacklefan @chevroletdean @pisces-celeste @springflwer07

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Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

[loveesiren]

Champagne & Sunshine (Pt.1)

JJ Maybank x Reader

Synopsis: Y/n celebrates six months in the OBX with her best friend JJ and the rest of the Pogues. Although Kiara isn't overly happy about it.

Warnings: Alcohol, language

Word Count: 3.8k+

Y/N's POV:

You pulled up to the beach in your dad's '95 Benz Truck. The one you had just inherited for your birthday. Your dad offered to buy you a new car but you wanted this one. It was your favorite.

"There's Barbie!" You hear JJ holler as you get out of the car.

You smile, holding up two bottles of champagne. You swayed you hips, your long hair draped over your shoulder. JJ was practically drooling at the sight of you in your booty shorts and crop top, belly ring dazzling in the sunlight.

"Well if it isn't miss Kylie Jenner, ladies and gentlemen." Kiara scoffs.

"Good to see you too, Kie." You smile at her. You didn't hate Kiara. But she had a thing for JJ and it was quite literally impossible for JJ to focus on anything else when he was in your presence. You remained friendly to her. You were friendly to everyone.

"What's the special occasion, mama?" JJ asks as you approach him and wrap your arms around him. He grabs your hips and pulls you into him, his arms snaking around your lower back as he takes in your scent.

"I've officially been in the OBX for 6 months and I've made some amazing friends!" You say happily.

"Weren't you like the Kook Queen of LA? How'd you even end up with us again?" Pope asks playfully.

"Cuz this one here wouldn't leave me alone," You chuckle, pointing to JJ.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to not be obsessed with you?" JJ smiles.

You can feel Kie rolling her eyes but you couldn't care less.

"I don't think stalking the new girl and somehow managing to fall flat on your face every time she speaks to you is the best method to getting the girl." Pope laughs.

"She's here isn't she?" JJ says, motioning to you standing right beside him.

You laugh at their exchange. "Here," You hand Pope a bottle of champagne. "I have more in the cooler," You motion to the G-Wagon. "JJ, help me out?"

"Anything for you, m'lady." He says, following you closely back to your car. You open the trunk and JJ grabs the cooler. You grab some towels and walk back over to where everyone sat on the beach.

You lay a towel down a bit further from wherever else sat and you and JJ sat down.

"There she blows!" JJ said as he popped off the cork to the champagne. You giggled as some of it spilled onto your tan skin. "Ladies first," He says, offering you the bottle.

"Such a gentlemen," You tease before pressing the bottle to your lips and taking a sip.

JJ watched you, smile wide on his face.

"Hey, if you're sick of being hit on by the Kook Klan you can come slum it with the Pogues."

You turn around to see a shaggy haired blonde boy smiling widely at you. You return a smile. "Pogues?"

"Yeah, ya know, we aren't all rich and pretentious like those ones," He nods towards Rafe and Topper, the two boys who had been on your tail all night. "But we know how to have a good time."

"Uhm, yeah, that sounds good. Kind of sick of hearing about golf." You chuckle.

"Well you're in luck, Princess! All we do is surf."

"I love surfing!" You say excitedly. "I haven't been out here yet."

"A woman after my own heart." He smiles. "I'm JJ."

"Y/N," You respond, offering your hand.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the Pogue life!" JJ says as he throws his arm around your neck and guides you down to a small fire his friends were sitting around. "Guys, this is Y/N! Y/N, this is John B, Pope, Kie, and Sarah. Sarah is Rafe's sister but she's way cooler."

"Hey guys!" You say sweetly. Everyone offers you a smile, Kie's smile was less that genuine but you didn't let it bother you.

"Holy shit, where are you from and why did you follow JJ over here?" Pope asks jokingly as he takes in your features.

Your long hair extensions, bright pink claws, your mini skirt and heels, you were obviously not from the Outer Banks and you were definitely not a Pogue.

"California! Calabasas." You smile. "You guys seem cooler than those douche bags." You laugh, turning and pointing to Rafe and Topper who were glaring in your direction.

"So sorry you had to be subjected to my brother and my ex," Sarah giggled. "They are both douchebags."

You laughed. "Yeah, I gathered that almost immediately."

You and JJ sat down. "So, Y/N, you surf?" John B asks, almost expecting you to say no. You were nice, but you definitely seemed like you'd rather spend a day at the mall than on the water.

"Yep!" You say, shocking everyone. "Used to go every day back home."

"Think you can keep up here?" JJ teased.

You turn to look at him with a flirty smile. "Barbie, eat your heart out."

Ever since you and JJ met that night, he'd been head over heels for you. You grew incredibly close to him and his friends. You'd spend your days surfing, absolutely schooling them almost every time. Days out on the Pogue, fishing and drinking. It was a whole different life than you were used to and you couldn't be happier. Truth was, you had it bad for JJ too, but you loved teasing him.

You laid down in JJ's lap, letting the sun kiss your bronze skin. He twirled your hair around in his finger. "Did you get new extensions?" He asked.

"Yeah, it was about damn time. Mine were so grown out."

"So soft..." JJ mutters as he works on braiding a small part of your hair.

"Want me to get you some extensions, J?" You giggle.

"Absolutely," He chuckles.

You take another sip of champagne before reaching your hand up and stroking your nails down JJ's leg. You could feel goosebumps form on his skin under your touch and you smiled.

It had been six months of dancing around the obvious with JJ. The way he was constantly hanging all over you, making you laugh. The way his eyes lit up when you entered the room. The way he'd stumble over his words whenever you offered a flirtatious remark.

And your actions didn't go unnoticed either. The way your long legs were always draped over his lap. The way you beamed up at him when he was goofing off. The way you blushed whenever he called you Barbie or Princess.

Never in a million years did the island of Kildare think they'd see what could be the sixth Kardashian sister pine over a "loser" like JJ Maybank but that's exactly what happened. No one ever made you feel so happy and free like JJ Maybank did.

The Pogues were happy for you both, well, except for Kiara. She was civil, but her jealousy was obvious. The Kooks, well, the Kooks hated it. Whenever they got a minute alone with you at a party they'd talk shit on JJ and your friends, saying you're too good for them. You'd just scoff and go find your best friend, grinding against him and hanging on his neck while you looked them dead in the eyes. You left your fake, pretentious friends back in Calabasas. When you moved here and met the Pogues, you became a whole new person. You finally felt like you belonged.

"Are we gonna surf or what?" Kiara asked, eyeing you and JJ being overly friendly.

"Hell yeah we're gonna surf!" You shoot up, running to your car and grabbing your board.

The waves were fierce today and you were the first one in the water, catching the first wave immediately and riding it out perfectly before the others could even catch up.

-

"She's way too good at this. I still can barely stand." Sarah says to Kie and John B.

"Yeah, when we first met her I thought there was no way she could keep up." John B replies, watching you ride out another wave.

"She's not that great," Kie scoffs.

"Come on, Kie. I know you've had a thing for JJ but Y/N is cool! And JJ seems happy, that's what's important right?" Sarah says.

Kie watches as you and JJ take on a wave together. She chews on her lip, admiring the boy she'd been in love with for so long. But Sarah was right, JJ really was happy. Happier than he'd ever been since you came into their lives.

"I am happy for him. I just wish she wasn't the only thing he cared about." Kie responds.

"He still cares about you, Kie. About all of us. He's just...he's never had...that." John B says, motioning to you. JJ had some hook ups, of course, but he'd never had a girl that was so obviously into him the way he was in her, even if they still were too shy to admit it.

"Just didn't think he'd fall for a girl like her," Kie says quietly before paddling out into the water.

-

After a long day of surfing, and finally helping Sarah ride out a full wave, you headed back to the Chateau.

"You did so good, Sarah!" You say, clanking your glass to hers before slurping down more champagne.

"I literally cannot believe I did that," She chuckles. "Thanks for teaching me."

"Any time babes!" You says, swimming over to her and kissing her on the cheek.

John B and Sarah sit across from you and JJ in the hot tub, the champagne coursing through your veins was obvious as you and JJ got more and more touchy, as you always did when the liquid courage took over.

-

Kie and Pope sat in the lawn chairs just outside the hot tub.

Kie watched as you sang the lyrics of Champagne and Sunshine, clinging to JJ as you did. The way his face lit up at the way you smiled made her frown.

"I'm sorry, Kie." Pope said, placing a hand on her knee.

"What does he see in her?"

"I don't know, I mean, she's goofy like him. She surfs. She's always happy-"

"Not helping, Pope." Kie cuts him off. Kiara had trouble seeing past the fake hair, fake nails, and fake lashes. As if those things meant your personality was fake. But you weren't fake. You were nothing but kind to everyone you met. Your feelings for JJ were genuine. You were more than happy to be a "Pogue". Even if you looked like a Kook, you wanted nothing to do with that side of the island.

"Sorry," Pope says. "I just mean, I think she's a good match for JJ. And I know that's not what you want to hear but he's happy. And you'll be happy too."

Kiara offers a small smile and nods.

"If it were me, I know who'd I choose." Pope says.

Kiara looks up at him with wide eyes. Pope offers a sympathetic smile and Kie quickly looks away, hiding the pink that was spreading across her cheeks.

-

You were all tipsy, laughing and singing along to the music. JJ's hand squeezed your hip as he brought a lighter to the joint between his lips.

You straddled his lap and he looked up at you with wide eyes. "Hey, princess!" He says, really enjoying the feeling of your clothed pussy hovering just above his member.

You looked down at the blue eyes you'd fallen so madly in love with. You smile and take the joint from between his lips. You bring it to yours and inhale deeply before passing it off to John B without taking your eyes of JJ's.

You smile, placing your hands softly on either side of JJ's jawline and pull his lips to yours, exhaling the smoke into his mouth. He inhales as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into him.

Your lips lock together and you can feel the electricity course through your body. Six long months of waiting for this moment. Six months of falling head over heels for your best friend.

His lips were soft, the kiss was gentle, but hungry. You could tell he'd been waiting for this minute for as long as you had.

The world disappeared around you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Yours danced with his as you felt his arm grip your waist tighter and his fingers gently pulled at your hair.

"Ow! Ow!"

"Fucking finally!"

You smile against JJ's lips as you hear your friends holler around you. You flip them off as you continue lose yourself in the one man that's ever made you feel at home.

You don't notice Kiara storming off into the Chateau and Pope following her.

"Shit," You hear Sarah whisper.

You pull back slightly and and lock eyes with JJ, biting your lip as you try to contain your smile.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that." JJ chuckles.

"I think I might have an idea," You tease, leaning into him and wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

JJ places kisses along your neck and shoulder. You could feel him smile against your skin.

JJ's POV:

I can feel her smiling against my neck. Did that really just happen? I thought to myself. My absolute dream girl was clinging to me as tightly as I clung to her. Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

"You're so perfect." I mumble against her skin.

She chuckles and leans back, her Y/E/C eyes studying my face. "Shut up," She teases. I smile and bring both my hands to her hips, brushing my thumb over skin as I looked up at her. I think I'm fucking in love.

"Hey guys," John B's voice ruins the moment.

"What?" I ask, not taking my eyes off Y/N.

"Uh, don't get me wrong. I love this for you guys. But I think Kiara is upset."

Y/N's expression changes as she slides off my lap and moves away. The loss of her touch left me feeling cold even though I was immersed in the hot water.

I groan under my breath. I didn't want it to seem like I didn't care about Kie but I didn't have those feelings for her. Y/N was everything I've ever wanted. And Y/N was far too sweet. If Kie was uncomfortable, of course she was going to back off.

"I'll go talk to her," I say, hopping out of the hot tub and placing a kiss on Y/N's temple.

I see Kie and Pope on the couch when I enter the Chateau. "Kie, can we talk?" Kie looks up at me with tear stricken eyes. "Pope, scram!" I say as I sit on the coffee table across from Kiara. Pope does as he's told. "Kie, what's going on?" I ask, taking her chin and forcing her to look at me.

"Doesn't matter, JJ." She said sourly.

"It does matter! You're my best friend. Why are you upset?"

"Just go back to your valley girl," She mutters. I clench my jaw. Kiara was constantly judging Y/N for not being Pogue material. She'd never taken the time to get to know her.

"Why do you hate her?" I ask, standing up from the table and walking around the room. "What has she done to you?"

"I don't hate her JJ," Kiara begins. "I just...she's not a real Pogue! She's fake as fuck!"

"Fake hair doesn't make her fake, Kiara. You haven't even tried to be her friend."

Kiara just scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Look Kie," I sigh. "I love you. You're my best friend, okay? But I really, really like Y/N. It would mean a lot to me if you could get along with her. She's nothing but nice to you."

Kiara purses her lips and nods as she stares at the ground. "I don't think that's going to happen."

Y/N's POV:

"Fuck, I feel bad." You say, grinding your acrylic nail between your teeth.

"Don't feel bad, Y/N. JJ is obsessed with you, and it's obvious you're into him too. You guys deserve to be happy." Sarah reassures you.

"Kie's never liked me. I feel like I just came in and fucked everything up."

"You didn't," John B says. "JJ's never been happier. We all love having you around. Kie will come around in time."

JJ and Kie come out of the Chateau. They both looked unhappy and it made your stomach turn. JJ came over to you and pressed his lips to your ear. "Can we go to your place?" He asked.

JJ stayed at your house often. It wasn't a weird request. But you could tell something wasn't right in his voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." You say as you climb out of the hot tub. You dry yourself off with your towel and grab your bag. "We'll catch you guys tomorrow!" You say as you and JJ start towards your car.

"Hope she's still pretty when you fuck all the fake off her!" A tipsy Kiara yells after you. You and JJ stop in your tracks. You'd been nothing but nice to Kiara since the night you met her. You tried to be her friend and she always shrugged you off. You were honestly sick of it.

You turn on your heel and start back towards her. "What the hell is your problem, Kiara?!" You spit.

"I just think JJ deserves better than some Malibu Barbie who will turn on him as soon as shit gets hard." She hisses back.

"You don't fucking know me!" You yell. "You've made no effort in getting to know me! Everyone else seems to like me. I've never given you a reason to fucking hate me aside from the fact that you're obsessed with JJ and he doesn't feel the same towards you!"

She scrunches up her face at your words.

You'd been nice for too long and you could feel the California version of yourself coming out. You approach her calmly as you cross your arms over your chest. You lean towards her, tongue sliding across your bottom lip. "You can hate me all you want. That won't stop JJ from absolutely losing himself inside me tonight." You whisper with a smile.

You chuckle before turning around and heading back to your car. You hop in the driver's seat. You watch as everyone is silent. JJ stares at Kiara for a moment, you can see her trying to hold back tears. JJ shakes his head at her before turning and climbing into your car.

The car ride was silent as you headed towards Figure Eight. You couldn't help but start to feel guilty the longer you drove. You didn't want to hurt Kiara. You were just so fed up with her treating you this way.

"Hey you two!" Your mom gushes as you and JJ walk into the kitchen.

"Hey mom!" You say.

"Hey, Mrs. Y/L/N!" JJ says.

"Are you guys hungry? I made pizza!"

You and JJ exchange a glance. Neither of you really had an appetite after what just happened. "Maybe later," You say. "We're gonna go watch a movie."

"Okay, Sweetie. Your father and I are meeting some friends at the club. We'll be home later."

"Sounds good!" You say, dragging JJ up the stairs to your room.

Your parents loved JJ. Back in California there were no Kooks or Pogues. Your mom and dad grew up working for everything they have now. They were the last people to judge. They knew about JJ's home life and insisted he stay at your house whenever he needed. He was nothing but respectful to your parents and your little sister, Marley.

Your parents were rich and boujee and well respected but as soon as they got home and kicked off their designer clothes, they were stoners at heart. You came from a long line of hippies. Your parents wouldn't forget that. However, they still loved life's luxuries and wanted the best for you and Marley, so they put on a Kook front for the new island you now called home.

Once you and JJ were in your room, he flopped onto your bed and groaned.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said to Kie. I-"

"Don't be sorry, Y/N." JJ said. "She's been such a bitch to you since you moved here. I don't blame you for getting upset."

"Still. I shouldn't have said what I said." You moved to your closet, slipping out of your bikini and throwing on a t-shirt and panties. You grabbed some gym shorts for JJ and tossed them to him. He had left many clothes at your house over the last six months.

"I tried to talk to her. Tried to ask her to be civil," He said as he slid his shorts on. "She's just fucking stubborn."

You nodded, heading to your bathroom to take your make up off. JJ followed you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled at the gesture.

"Can I do it?" JJ asked as he saw you reaching for your lashes.

You giggled. "Yeah, JJ, you can do it."

You sat down on your closed toilet and looked up at JJ, closing your eyes. He took your lashes between his fingers and slowly began pulling.

"Just yank it off, JJ!" You laugh.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"It won't hurt, just rip it."

JJ does as he told and you smile at the instant relief your eyelid felt.

"So weird," JJ says as he fiddles with the lashes in his fingers, flicking them to the side like they are a spider.

"If it freaks you out why do you always want to do it?" You giggle.

"Cuz it's satisfying," He tells you as he leans down to pull your other lashes off. Once he does, he grabs your make up remover and a cotton pad, slowly removing all the make up from your skin. You relax under his touch, enjoying the way he knows how to take care of you.

Once he finishes removing your make up, he ties your hair back, careful of you extensions like you showed him. He washes your face and puts on you moisturizer.

"There. So fucking pretty." He says as he admires your bare face.

You smile up at him, begging for him to kiss you but you know he's too shy.

JJ leads you back to your bed and you both climb under the covers. "What episode were we on?" He asks as he scrolls through Kardashian reruns.

"Uhhhh, Khloe divorcing Lamar." You say. JJ finds the episode and throws the remote to the side. He wraps you tightly in your arms and your throw your arm and leg over his body, nuzzling against his chest.

You felt your eyes growing heavy as JJ ran his fingers over your arm. You couldn't help but smile as you thought about your life. Last year you were stuck in a place full of fake ass people who didn't give a shit about your well being. Now, you were laying in bed watching the Kardashians with a boy who literally couldn't get enough of you. A boy who took the time to learn everything about you. How to care for your hair extensions, take off your make up properly, what colors you liked your nails. A boy who knew you were petrified of spiders and heights. A boy that could make you laugh for hours on end. A boy who'd bring you your favorite food at 2am just because you texted him that you were hungry. A perfect boy.

You couldn't deny the fact that you were absolutely in love with JJ Maybank.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

[goldenherc9]

Herculean Gains: Arab Edition

For my great bro @musclejedi-tameem at his request, here ur transformation akhi

Tameem adjusted his thick glasses as he stepped into Herculean Gains, gripping his notebook filled with workout research. His oversized sweater hung off his skinny frame, and his jeans were a little too loose. He had read every fitness guide, studied every diet, but no matter what, he stayed the same—thin, awkward, and weak.

As he glanced around, he felt wildly out of place among the massive bodybuilders grunting and flexing in front of mirrors. Then, a deep, booming voice shattered his thoughts.

“Yo, akhi, what’s up with this skinny situation?”

Tameem turned and nearly choked. Standing before him was Hercules Gold, a legend in the gym world. With golden skin, bulging muscles, and a jawline sharp enough to cut steel, he looked like a god among men. His tank top barely covered his massive pecs, and his gym shorts revealed quads that belonged in a museum.

“I—I’m just here to—”

Hercules smirked. “Nah, bro, I already know. You’re trying to get huge, right?”

Tameem adjusted his glasses. “Uh, yeah, but—”

“Say no more.” Hercules pulled out a massive blue shaker, filled with a thick, shimmering liquid. “This is Himbo Juice, my dude. Special Arab edition—extra saffron for maximum gains.”

Tameem hesitated. “What’s in it?”

Hercules laughed. “Too many questions, bro. Just drink.”

Tameem sighed. He had tried everything else—what was one sip? He grabbed the bottle and took a deep gulp. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, heat exploded through his veins.

BOOM!

His arms surged outward, skinny twigs transforming into biceps the size of watermelons. His chest expanded, stretching his sweater to the limit until—RIIIIP!—it shredded into pieces, revealing thick, sculpted pecs and abs.

His jeans didn’t stand a chance. His legs grew like tree trunks, quads bursting through the fabric. His feet expanded, sneakers replaced with bright neon gym shoes. His glasses slid off his face as his jawline became sharper, his features more chiseled.

And then, his brain… slowed down. His thoughts became… simpler.

“Uh… bro?” Tameem muttered, blinking dumbly.

Hercules grinned. “Yeah, that’s it, akhi. No more nerd stuff. Just protein, flexing, lifting and looking hot.”

Tameem turned to the mirror, flexing, grinning. “Haha, bro, I look sick!”

Hercules clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the Himbo Life.”

Tameem laughed, his old self gone, replaced by pure muscle, arrogance, and gains.

--------‐-----‐--------------------------------------------------------

Wanna a tf then ask away with what ya want (more info the better) or DM me with it bros, i will do my best on the tf you want, time to transform mah dudes

[sturns-mermaid]

SUBMITTING TO AUTHORITY 4

other parts here | not proofread | chris ver | chai bot

I'm not responsible for what you consume on the internet, read at your own risk!

🖤 wc: 1.6k | got carried away | divider: @/inklore, @/aquazero

Previously on submitting to authority...

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as he sat on your desk and you stood between his legs, your thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m sorry too,” he whispered, hands moving to your waist. “You’re such a good boy for me, I’m just not used to affection, is all” you whisper kissing his pouty lips. “Come here baby,” you coo pulling him into a hug. “Don’t pull that shit again, got it?” you say pulling back and fixing his tie. He smiles at you, his cheeks still red as he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away and meeting your gaze.

WARNINGS: sub matt x dom reader, shy matt, pet names, teasing, matt standing up for reader

The sun crept in through your bedroom window, casting a golden glow on your features as you slept. Your alarm soon interrupted the peaceful moment going off, showing you would have to get ready for work. Every morning you dreaded waking up and having to go to the office. Being the CEO, of course, you had the worst of it, having to answer countless emails and file paperwork. Thankfully, this was the time of the year when everything slowed down. There was less paperwork to file, fewer meetings to attend, and less corrupt sniffing around the headquarters. You sit up stretching and rubbing your tired eyes, your phone dings, grabbing your attention as you grab it off the charger and see a message from Matt.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ smiling to yourself, you clutch your phone to your chest, and thank goddess you were home alone so no one could see this side of you. How you let out a happy squeal every morning when you got a good morning text from him. Of course, you would never admit it out loud. ‘Good morning, my favorite employee, I slept fine. What about you sweet boy?’ to say the least, Matt was giggling and kicking his feet every time you replied to his message. It had become a daily occurrence for him to text you every morning. He would always send you a picture of him getting your morning coffee. 

You walk into the doors of the office building being greeted by all the wandering employees and the front desk person who you forgot the name of, your head held high as you walk to your office. Passing by Matt’s cubicle every morning like clockwork, he smiles at you spinning around in his chair as you hold out your coffee to you. “Mmm, so good” You moan as you take a sip, teasing him as you see his cheeks redden. He clears his throat, dragging his chair back to his desk as he tries to keep his composure. It was always so hard around you to keep his thoughts and reactions underway. Half the time he was sure just looking at you could make him come in his pants, but he tried so hard not to be pathetic and be good for you. It got so bad he always kept an extra pair of work slacks in the trunk of his chair just in case. It’s not like he meant to but you always looked so good.

His eyes snapped up to your face as he noticed you had made your way to sit on his desk, heels slipping off, leaving you in your black tights. Your foot toying with the growing bulge in his pants. “You seem distracted, everything okay?” you ask, playing innocent as your foot presses harder down on his clothed member. He lets out a whine at the touch, his body on fire as you continue your movements. “Gotta stay quiet baby, don’t want things to end like last time.” you tease knowing that last time people gave him judgemental looks for your last encounter in his cubicle. You lean forward your hand making its way to cover his mouth as your other hand works on unbuckling his belt. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” you whisper watching as he frantically nods. 

The moment ended too soon as you heard the elevator ding from the front entrance and the loud clicking of heels. “Fuck…” you muttered as you moved your hands away from his face and his half-undone belt. Matt, being utterly confused, fumbled with his hands as he adjusted himself. “What is it?” he questioned, moving closer to you, his hands traveling up your thighs as you covered your face with your hands. Your business rival, your number one enemy. Her company had been number one on the charts for years and every year you are so close to beating her, a smidge percentage off. The results were coming in a few weeks, which business would be the top seller and which one would be the winning company.

She always showed up to ‘wish you luck’ which was her making sure you knew she was going to win. “Well, well, if it isn’t Ms. Second Place.” She stood in the doorway, her voice laced with mockery, echoing as you rose from Matt’s desk, adjusting your skirt. “What do you want?” you asked coolly, slipping your heels back on. Her eyes raked over you, then briefly flicked to Matt, who stood awkwardly, holding his hand out in a stiff, uncertain gesture. “So this is how you spend your time on the job? Are you the office pet now, instead of the boss?” she sneered, dismissing Matt’s hand with a casual flick before stepping toward you, closing the distance.

Your jaw tightened, and you felt the surge of anger rising, but you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay composed. “I could say the same for you,” you snapped back, knowing she’d never put in the same level of hard work. “We all know how you got to the top.” Her smile was cold, sharp. “Sometimes, you have to make... sacrifices. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” She stepped closer, her eyes trailing down to your skirt. “Pathetic,” she muttered, her voice low with disdain. “You think you can beat me? Where’d you get that skirt? Marshalls?” You felt her fingers trace the edge of the fabric, and a chill ran through you.

You took a small step back, refusing to let her rattle you. “At least I’d win with honesty,” you bit back, your voice cutting through the air like a blade. “Which is more than I can say for you.” You pointed at her, an obvious jab at her plastic surgery—something she didn’t pay for with her own earnings. “Tell me, what’s your secret—how much did you invest in that?” Her eyes flashed with fury, but she held her ground. Matt, on the other hand, had been silent, caught between shock and awe. He had no idea you’d ever had a target on your back like this. He’d always been intimidated by you—he wasn’t proud of it, but it was the truth. “Look, at least she didn’t have to... sleep her way to the top,” Matt found himself blurting out before he could stop it. “What is it, collecting life insurance policies?” All eyes snapped to him, and his face drained of color.

Your mouth dropped open as you turned to him in disbelief, but before you could react, she shot him a glare so venomous it could’ve burned a hole through him. “You think that’s funny?” Her voice was ice, but her footsteps clicked sharply toward him as she closed the gap. Matt swallowed hard, taking a cautious step back. “Very cute,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Getting your little employee to defend you.” She turned to you with a malicious grin. “But good luck—you’re going to need it.” With that, she turned on her heel and strutted out, her footsteps fading into the distance.

You stood there, her words hanging in the air, you were determined more than ever to win that first place. Her words stung but not as much as they would sting when she saw the results and saw your company on the top charts instead of hers. “Hey, are you okay?” Matt whispered from next to you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded, your head tilting slightly to the side as he placed kisses over your soft skin.

Closing your eyes, the feeling of his plump lips on your warm skin, you relaxed some of the tension leaving your shoulders. An idea sparked in your mind, your eyes fluttering open as you smiled to yourself, you need a break. And you knew just the thing that would relieve all of this tension built up in your overworked body, you were so stressed with all the news about the company’s stock market and sales charts you just needed to let go and clear your mind.

“Matt?” you questioned, earning a hum in response as he nuzzled his face closer to your neck. “Do you want to stay with me over the weekend?” you questioned swaying your hips in his arms. “Mmm,” he mumbled against your skin, his hands moving to cup your breasts. The day flew by fast as you tried your best to not get distracted by Matt, he looked so good you had called him into your office just to stare at him while he got all shy and flustered. Finally, it was the end of the day and you were walking towards the exit of the building after clocking out, your gaze met Matt who was waiting outside for you. 

You had Matt right where you wanted him, from the moment you arrived at your condo you wanted to pounce on him but he insisted you guys cuddle and watch a movie together. And now he was in your bed at last, your hands trailing all over his body memorizing him. “So pretty baby,” you whispered as he lay sprawled out on your bed, you had already undressed him which left him a whining mess.

“Need you so bad,” he whimpered feverishly, leaning his head up to kiss you. Your hand moved to his chest to push him down onto the soft mattress. “Shh, stay still for me,” your hands working on tying him up with pretty pink ribbons. Tightening the fabric around his wrists to your bedpost, causing him to buck his hips forward. “Mama please…” he pleaded, his lips forming a pout. “Be patient sweetheart,” you cooed, kissing his forehead.

a/n: SORRY Y'ALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY SMUT PART NEXT TRUST 🤭

tags: @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @brianna-grace12 @scorpio1205 @submattenthusiast @courta13 @mattsplaything @conspiracy-ash @anyaa2s @hazedsturns @eclipsturns @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @immaqulate @t0riiiis @heartsonlyforchris @blushsturns @hearts4werka @mattsbows @sweetshuga @leoslaboratory @pair-of-pantaloons @riasturns  @lezleeferguson-120 @sturnsflirt @sturnsblogs @fratbrochrisgf

[tony-the-tigers-juicy-armpit]

Getting BOYPREGNANT From The MULE Man Who DOESN'T SHOWER. A pornographic furry tale by Jay Ripper, a.k.a tony-the-tigers-juicy-armpit

(stank / mpreg / piss / degradation)

(2048 words)

Loneliness is a fuck of a thing. It's pale, and cold, and lands on your cheek like a butterfly, then sinks into your skin like smoke does to wallpaper, and flutters through your stomach and soul until its taken over your entire essence. Other people start to see it. You start to see it, to hate it. It's not insecurity, it's just lack. A yawning, throbbing pit of desire. It shouts for attention, its screams like hellfire that turn insecurity and shyness to ash.

It's like that one meme said:

I am reforged in the crucible of necessity.

I am so, so fucking horny.

Some piece-of-shit website told me that the dumb dildos hang out at "Ol' Murph's", a dim bar on the other side of town. I'm not looking for a date tonight, I'm looking to get stuffed in a way there's no coming back from.

Or the other way around. I could give a shit.

I comb my blonde hair to the side over my faggish pink fur. Tight shirt, tight jeans, tight briefs. Keeping it simple. This night will not be instagrammable.

With some trepidation I venture across the city, peeking through the thin front windows of Ol' Murph's, some light joint-casing before diving into the pit of not-literal sharks. I climb the steps and step inside. Like a door to nowhere, the inside has a completely different atmosphere than the street outside. All of the patrons are hunched over the bar in sweat-stained work clothes. The sound of the door opening and closing gets the attention of him, a tall, burly mule with dark brown fur. He twitches his head toward his direction, a wordless invitation.

The floor creaks under me as I walk over, and between him and another large man is a little empty stool. I hear a few of the men exhale through their noses; Weak chuckles.

"I'll-" I begin, my voice cracking, "I'll have a whiskey and coke." I say to the bartender.

"Comin' right up." he says. The mule nudges me with his arm.

"Haven't seen you 'round here before."

"Yeah, I- uh, I'm new in town."

He's handsome. A worn trucker hat casts shadows over his striking features, his piercing eyes. He's wearing a singlet stained yellow, and I know that even if he wore a full winter coat I'd be able to smell those armpits, deep in his thick tree-trunk arms. I'd only been sitting here for 30 seconds, and it seemed to have doubled in strength in that time, salty, meaty, sweet, and bitter. I could feel my insides begging, presumptuously spinning up a new egg, glowing righteously inside me. Below his shirt his pecs bulge, his musclegut stretching the fabric and spilling over his belt.

"New in town, huh? Can't remember the last time a pretty boy like you came in here."

My face felt hot. The bartender served me my drink. "Careful with that one," he said to me, regarding the mule.

"Psh." the mule replied. He turned back to me. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Liam." I replied. A gay name. He smiled, and offered a handshake.

"Ben." he said. I shook his hand, and he squeezed savagely, his scent seeming to transfer into my body through our handshake, and I felt it everywhere, pushing the loneliness out, and replacing it just with him. My face got hotter. I sipped my drink, exhaling hard into it. Ben put a hand on my shoulder and then moved down, rubbing my back as if to comfort me.

"Vic, would you get little Liam another drink on me?"

The bartender nodded. Ben pat my back. For just a second my eyes flicked around at the other drinkers talking quietly amongst themselves. One gave me a look of pity, as if to say, "boy, you're in for it". Ben's musk roared at me, and I was drawn back in.

I took another, larger sip, starting to drink less responsibly. I've always been able to handle my liquor, but even if I couldn't, who gives a shit at this point?

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked. I chuckle humorlessly, betraying my loneliness in a way I didn't intend. He hummed understandingly, seeming to read me with more accuracy than I was expecting anyone here to. He asked that just to remind me of that. If I'm new in town, then of course I don't have a boyfriend.

I'm being manipulated.

😏

I got comfortable in my seat, putting my hands on the bar. Ben put one of his over mine. I start on my second drink.

"I know this city like the back of my hand. I could show you 'round." he said, idly stretching in a way that aired out his underarms. My eyes became half-lidded for a moment. He leaned in close to my ear. "Or," he began, every syllable vibrating my entire body, "we could just head back to my place."

I turn to face him, and he kisses me. I put my hand on his shoulder, and swoon completely. My dick jumps, in tandem with the pulsing of his musk's strength, its hypnotic bitterness, and I feel like I'm floating. He kisses sloppily, our spit dripping between us. I grab my glass and down the rest of my drink, and nod at Ben.

=✯

True to expectations, he lived about a block from the bar. He shoved the door open into his living room and pushed me inside, shutting the door and grabbing me. He kissed me again, bringing my hand down to his crotch. He was half-chubbed, already almost the size of his forearm.

"You ready, sweetheart?"

I nodded. He stripped his shirt off and pushed me onto the dirty sofa that reeked of beer and sweat. He straddled me, trapping me in place, and shoved his pit in my face. I couldn't help but smile, my eyelids fluttering as I shoved my face all the way inside it, tasting Ben's masculine, arrogant tang.

"What a slut," he said, watching me lick his dirty body, "look at yourself." he teased. I barely heard him, every thought clouded by the brain-chemistry-altering stink that came from his entire body. He kissed me again, and unzipped my pants, pulling my cock out from my fly.

"Aww, little thing." he said, flicking it, my precum dripping down my shaft. "Why don't you pull my pants down and see a real cock? Smell my nuts next, since you're such a fuckin' pig."

I nodded eagerly, my toes curling just from anticipation. He stood up, and I shoved down his waistband. His foot-long hog stood at attention like a dedicated soldier, his grapefruit-sized nuts hanging below, dripping with sweat. I couldn't even wait for him to order me, dropping to my knees and putting one ball in my mouth, moaning on it as the wet, salty taste started to slide down my throat.

"You're fucking helpless." he said. And he was right. I jerked my little dick quicker as I tongued his rank taint, his pubes getting caught in my lips, the stench filling my mouth and nose like liquid. I was drowning in it. I dragged my tongue along his long, imposing cock, which seemed to go on forever. I wrapped my lips around it, and took the head into my mouth. He groaned in pleasure. "Fuuuuuck." he grunted. He grabbed the back of my head and shoved me down further down, his girthy inches disappearing into my throat as he moaned selfishly, using me like a toy. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, both from the ecstasy of sucking Ben's cock and the threat of losing consciousness. He shoved me back and forth, giving me brief milliseconds to breathe, faster and faster and faster until suddenly- he stopped. I braced myself for the milky, salty taste of jizz, but was met with the taste of steaming piss.

I felt Ben's evil laughter as he filled my stomach with mule urine, while I jerked out a pathetic load onto his floor. Even after my orgasm, I needed more.

"You're just taking it, huh? Dirty bitch." he insulted, pulling his cock out of my throat and releasing his orange piss onto my face, soaking into my shirt, my pants, my underwear, my socks, my fur. I opened my mouth wide and let it fall on me. I heard a crinkling noise, and an empty beer can fell on my head. "I'll keep chugging, and you can have it secondhand. You'll be smelling like me for a month." He put his cock back in my mouth, chugging a beer with the other hand, humping the bottom of my neck from the inside, his musclegut pressing into my head. My belly started to bloat a little from the sheet volume of piss. And finally, he ran out.

"How's it feel, slut?"

I nodded dumbly. He gently smacked my face, grabbing my chin to get my attention. "I said how's it feel?"

"I love you." slipped out. He threw his head back and cackled, dropping another empty can on my head. "Yeah?- HAhehe- you like me, Liam?"

I nodded profusely.

"Then why don't I give you a reason to stay?" he said. The egg I'd felt shine earlier sang to me, and I couldn't plug my ears to save my life.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"Sir? I didn't even tell you to say that. You're naturally a bitch, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're my bitch now, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you wanna have my baby, don't you?"

I hesitated. He waited. I swallowed, and accepted my fate.

"Yes, sir."

He grabbed me, and picked me up, prying open my mouth with one hand and spitting in it, then carrying me to his bedroom, tossing me onto the bed. He shoved his piss-stained, sweat-soaked underwear into my mouth and dragged me to the edge of the bed, stripping me nude and standing above me, slapping his cock onto my stomach. From between my legs, it reached my diaphragm.

"It's good you agreed. I don't even have condoms."

He lined his tip up with my desperate hole and pushed in, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in pure ecstasy. Pain and gratification mingled inside me, synthesizing into pleasure, into desire, into further desperation. His sweat, the piss I was still covered in, his body...He went deeper than I could've imagined, stuffing me full, his musclegut covering my dick entirely, resting in a layer of his own urine. After an eternity of inches, he started to thrust his entire cock in and out, bright shapes blurring my vision as the most intense fuck of my life had just begun, making me squeak with each hump. He grunted brutishly, music to my ears, the entire room, the entire world, seeming to chant the same message.

GET PREGNANT.

"Harder. Please, harder, daddy." I begged. He cackled again and obliged, planting his fists on either side of my head and pummeling my hole with strength I couldn't gather if I lifted weights and did squats for 10 years. He lowered himself, making out with me as he turned me inside out, his spit and piss covering the whole lower half of my face.

"I'll be a good dad, y'know. I'm only mean to sluts." he grunted into my mouth. I moaned, and jizzed onto his belly. He didn't relent, and I still wasn't satisfied. My egg deposited into my womb, waiting to be flooded with his sperm. I felt it wait, throb, beg, as we made out.

"Cum all the way inside. Please. Please. I need it." I begged.

"I know you need it, bitch. I bought you a drink, I let you swallow my piss, and now you'll be seeing me for a loooong time."

He slammed into my hole and shouted, grunted, moaned, as his balls spilled into my womb, bloating out my belly with his hot sperm. I felt the greatest pleasure and peace of my life, cumming again onto myself, rope after rope, as he gave his seed to me in a scorching flood. Swimmer after swimmer punched into my egg, and Ben's meaty chest bounced as he breathed. He embraced me, rutting fully into me.

"You're mine. Forever."

[greyfongschemmenti]

This Is How It Feels | Part 3

Pairing: Regina Mills x reader

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 1k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant hum of life in the town square formed a soothing backdrop as you sat against the sturdy trunk of a tree in the center of Storybrooke's park. Your first week at this town and you decided to sketch. With your sketchbook propped up on your knees, you let your pencil glide across the paper, capturing the scene before you with practiced strokes.

Lost in the rhythm of creation, you barely noticed the approach of footsteps until a familiar voice broke through your reverie.

"Mind if I join you?" came Regina's smooth voice, her presence casting a shadow over your sketchbook.

Looking up, you were surprised to see Regina standing before you holding two coffee cups, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Wordlessly, you nodded, gesturing to the space beside you.

Regina settled gracefully onto the grass, her gaze lingering on your sketchbook for a moment before turning to meet your eyes. "I noticed you sitting here earlier," she said, her tone curious yet warm. "I thought you might appreciate some company."

As she spoke, Regina offered one of the cups with a knowing smile. "Hopefully it’s to your liking," she said, handing you the cup. "Just the way you ordered it the first time we met."

Your brow raises in curiosity as you listen to her words “you…remembered my coffee order?” 

Regina’s smile falters “was that okay?” 

You smile and are grateful for the gesture, you accept the coffee with a nod of thanks, taking a sip and savoring the familiar taste. Regina's attention to detail did not go unnoticed, and you found yourself struck by the thoughtfulness of her gesture.”I really appreciate it. Thank you Regina”

After a moment and a soft dusting of the charcoal from your page you’re the first to break the silence. “So how’s your day going, Esteemed Mayor Regina” you give her a slight smirk. She lets out a soft laugh “Besides dealing with the citizens of Storybrooke, proposals and meetings all before my morning coffee. same old bureaucracy, different day. But it's all part of the job, I suppose. How about you? How's life as our newest visitor?” 

You take a deep breath as you think of a response then sigh “Oh, you know, just trying to navigate the ups and downs of everyday life. But a good cup of coffee always helps smooth out the rough patches. But you fixed that so my day just got better” you look up at her and give her a genuine smile which she mirrors on her own face. 

Regina looks down to hide her smile while she runs her hands on her lap, “Ah, the universal remedy: caffeine. Can't go wrong there.”As the two of you sat in comfortable silence, They both sip their coffee in silence for a moment before Regina speaks, “So, tell me about yourself. Where do you come from? What brings you to Storybrooke?” 

You let out a breath as you turn to look over at Regina and take in her features taking a pause to consider her questions. “Well, I've been traveling around the world for some time now. I’m a nature photographer with a side of art. Enjoying the world’s wonders.” you began smiling softly before it falters a bit “But despite all the beauty I've encountered, I've felt like something was missing. So, I embarked on this journey with no destination in mind, just following where the universe led me. And here I am, in Storybrooke.” Regina listened attentively, her expression thoughtful as she absorbed your words. And as you spoke of your desire for a new beginning, for a place to call home amidst the vast expanse of the universe, Regina's eyes softened with understanding.

"It sounds like you've been searching for a sense of belonging," she said, her voice gentle yet knowing. Regina knows all too well about her own sense of belonging. She looks over at you and you share a look. Her words resonate deeply within you, echoing the unspoken longing in your heart. In Regina's presence, you felt a sense of connection, a kinship that transcended words and borders. You nod “Sometimes, no matter how far we roam, we still long for that sense of belonging.”

“I can relate to that more than you know.” She looks away suddenly, not her confident self, but she quickly recovers “Your journey sounds fascinating. Traveling the world and having a talent to draw incredible things” she glances at your sketches of people and buildings of her beloved town.

You give a small smirk as you look down at your drawings “It has been, in many ways. But it's also been lonely at times. That's why I'm grateful for encounters like this, moments of connection with others.”

“Well, I'm glad to have met you” she softly smiled as she looked at you and noticed you sketching. 

You look up at her and smile “I enjoyed this. If you ever want to share a coffee and talk. I guess you know where to find me” 

You stand up, ripping out a page and close the book before offering a hand to Regina. Regina watches in surprise as you stand up and tear out a page from your sketchbook, the action unexpected but somehow fitting in the moment. As you close the book and offer your hand to her, she hesitates for just a moment before accepting it, noting the warmth of your touch as your hands linger longer than usual.

Taking the piece of paper from you, Regina's gaze flickers down to the sketch, her breath catching at the beauty captured on the page. The sketch of Regina sitting by the tree where she was moments ago. Her expression is soft and at peace, something she hasn’t seen in a long time. 

For a moment, Regina is speechless, touched by the gesture and the sentiment behind it. She looks up to meet your eyes, her own softened with gratitude and understanding.

"Thank you," she says softly, her voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies her usual stoic demeanor. 

With a small smile, you bid farewell and walk off to where you're staying, leaving Regina to gaze down at the sketch in her hands, a tangible reminder of the unexpected connection forged in the quiet moments of an ordinary day.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the park, you realized that perhaps, in this serendipitous encounter with Regina, you had found the answer to your quest for belonging—a community to call your own, and a journey that had led you home at last.

[wolfpants]

fic complete: terrible people (a drarry fic)

This fic is now complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has had a hand in helping me get this to the finish line, and especially to @getawayfox and @citrusses for all of your betaing and alphaing advice! And to everyone who has been reading along as we've been posting - we love you! It's been so exciting to see all of your comments in our inboxes these past few weeks.

Terrible People | Rated E | 52.8k words

Fic by @wolfpants | Art by @getawayfox

Draco finds it a little too easy then to slot himself in against Harry from behind. Their touches are turning more frequent, more thoughtless. A swipe of an arm here, a press of fingertips there. Brushing hair from eyes. Standing close. Resting chins against shoulders, palms against hips. They don’t kiss, or hold hands. Not outside of fucking. But all of these other touches, these little intimacies—it’s a harmful temptation, in all manners of meaning, but it’s a temptation Draco cannot, and will not, get enough of. Delicious little sips here and there of Harry. A fantasy that can live and die on holiday, as is the fate of most wonderful, disastrous, ill-judged things.

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

Tags: EWE, minor Harry/Charlie, past Draco/Zacharias, background relationships, romcom, meddling friends, beach holidays, cruises, clubbing and bars, truth or dare, Healer!Draco, sports media mogul!Harry, FWB, FWB to lovers, miscommunication, idiots in love, recreational drug use, drinking, smoking, a veritable cocktail of Muggle and Wixen tech, forced proximity, smut and smut tags in the work

🌊🕶🩳🍹

read terrible people on ao3

[mimaveil]

I Know Your Dad and He Wouldn't Mind (IV)

Governing Concept: can’t an up-and-coming actor send nudes to his onscreen dad, torrid, get dumped, and not learn his lesson post-pandemic? gosh. normie pocket dimension of ask for a key, or the comedy-of-marriage-minded sequel to sex, or a bag of rocks (i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii)

prev: do you have anything that smells like old dick (warm bulb), so are you courting me or (morel map), do you want to suck a dick or do you want to solve a puzzle (sydney rock pool)

chapter summary: don't look a gift whore in the eye (terror & magnificence)

cw: nsfw, qurl what LAdubcon is this

Steffi the whore, upon entry, is a slender acanthus column, around Owen’s age. Long, ductile neck propping up an oblong, unremarkable face. Moody, sumptuous bottle-green eyes. Bulky stud earring, malachite, with a shell pearl on a two-inch dangle.   

Ben introduces them, eager, trashy, like he hadn’t been rounding off in Owen’s mouth mid-doorbell ring. Their bodyshot argot, thermometer Latin, Stef’s my spoiler—more my cutman—those declensions… 

All courtesy, Ben pours their guest a drink in a frosted highball, clear lip. On the stub end of the Weetabix L-sectional, rage-on at an ebb, Owen gives a short wave. The other, smaller couches are bark and congee. 

In his juiced-tangerine trunks and dolphin teeshirt, rude to be less dressed than the help in black? The feature, he means. His sole encounter with sex workers had been complimenting a stripper’s acrylics (blueberry-ombre almond, “like a Rothko!”) in a friend’s dorm room six years ago. Her bodyguard had stayed in the hallway, door open to six study chairs in a circle; his friend had gotten his ass shaved. Some birthday prank. 

Sipping his fluted glass, Stef notes Owen’s presence with the aloof politeness of a sporting-dog being shown the watering hole in the boarding house. Sparkling, juniper berry—the scent tugs at Owen. He’d seen the slim cans, stacked to six in the fridge. 

Stef sits next to him on the Weetabix sofa, all serif, carpenter trousers, linen? Open-ladder stitch down the, side-thigh to shin. Nothing gaping or gaudy. The piques of skin are fine as print.

On the couch, now, the air blurs. The Aperol’s burned off; the spaghetti clags. That vaguely familiar mouth, written in cursive, votive. A question unfurls for him, in Gothic blackletter: iron glyphs and tridents, spike-spike-spike—

“Scoot,” Ben says, smacking Owen’s right shoulder. “This is my seat.”

—

Based on the music, they’re playing Portal 2 on Xbox 360 in the living room while Owen froths his dick in the tub.

This is the girls’ bath on the west side of the house, shared with the guestroom. Not great, but he couldn’t have stood it, showering in the guest bath tucked against Ben’s open-air hang with his new boy, their conspiratorial slouch, insulting each other in punctured/playful Romanian.  

The vintage tub, fat lip, is a menace. Owen pumps Dove foam, avoiding the forced jollity of the carnival-stripe towels, the wet confetti rugs on drowsy-syrup flooring. He hunches, still knocks over three 12-oz haircare bottles, arrayed by promise (Thickening, Repairing, Curl-Quenching). 

Torrid, he’s not going to jerk off into a conditioner bottle. This isn’t Haneke. He doesn’t want to be touching himself here, in Ben’s arena; he could do that anywhere (well, not anywhere) for free. What he wants is, foolishly written, fullsex now. 

Medicine cabinet swings open. Inside’s a double-bladed razor, just sharp enough, half-ounce pot of eye cream, an empty contact lens case. Under-sink’s full of bulk buys from Costco, Ben tagging along on his friend’s card. 

Dripping, Owen pulls a face in the mirror. The whole night’s been splot after splot of hot cooking oil to the wrist. The Kirkland lotion smells expired, so he smears the entire pot of coffee-cherry-quinoa eye cream on his face, hands and shins. 

So that’s the game. Ben wants to fuck him and taste someone else, does he. Drying off, Owen shuts his eyes; he’s an efficient mimic. In his memory colonial, symmetrical, steeply pitched, closed-concept, he walks through the central hallway, ascends the stairs to his mother’s office. Slow-pulls the top drawer, picks up the block of Helen Frankenthaler prints, floaty voids for miles, shuffles for the card he wants. Stride, Sesame, Sentry. Brighter, tighter|the line, the lie, dose and dilution shimmering in his body. 

Abstracted, he folds his discarded clothes. Finger-brushes his teeth with Kids Crest Chameleon, waits for the full color shift from blue to pink; he wants his tongue to sparkle in Ben’s mouth. Busy-print towel, bruised radicchio, wraps around his hips. No—right shoulder to left hip, sashed. 

Robitussin tile, his feet won’t move. Fifty feet, roughly, from here to the living room, and he’s already soft at the ankles. Stupid. His ex, idling passenger, mocking: what are you on, running a hospice for all the dream versions of you? 

Ben wants to be chased, like a, a mastodon through the bog. And with his in-laid hubris, hadn’t Owen consented to this from the start. The baby cigarettes on the balcony, the slow-mo decay, the puzzle and the pain? 

Breathe jewel boxes, blow rings. Never gone in this cold before, frosted glass, step-step-step-heave-step to his bare dick brushing the couch backing, the jolt of his hand on Ben’s neck, the split-screen hiccuping, towel slaloming down his chest to the floor. 

Thick with hold music, rack lighting, the hostility of the house; Owen lets them look at him, Stef’s bottle-green assessment, likely with a ticker in his head, charging by the minute like daycare late pickup, um.

Talk. Force all that self-control, shit crushed ice. He’s got to, “Whoever wins, gets to have me," casual. His lime-slice nails on Ben’s seal-gray collar.

“It’s a co-op,” Stef corrects, blushing. Still holding his controller like a cigarette. 

Tug a pearl earring, taste God. This boy’s moans probably have drop caps, illuminated, wild inks of clover, calendula, copper and rhododendron. 

“Or take turns, whatever,” Owen croons, turning on his heel. Lets the fellows nervously confer, pours himself a drink using a glass he washed, measuring with his heart’s tha-thunk-tha-thunk-tha-thnk, gliding to the mirrored guest bedroom, sipping his tepid water in the dark, the smooth oblivion of sateen sheets the color of scarab, King cut. 

He’s almost drifted off, empty crystal on arched nightstand, when the dull knock-press spills hall light in. Leather headboard scritches against his back, Stef in ripple black, Ben in pearl white (must have changed), the stillness of their cunctation in this shell of all-bed, all-glass. 

“We won,” Ben says in soft strine, hand on his chin, his lip, and Owen dimly nods his assent in the hallway light. Just two boys and a door closing, a rustle on top, a rustle on bottom, angling grips, juniper fizz, lick malachite, all the gaps in him swelling to let in the dark.

— 

On the guest bed, Ben fucks him with such gusto Owen leaks out his ears.

Now, Owen’s had the benefit of youth and coaching from an intimacy coordinator, but the. The humid, impossibly perfect tempo. A glide-stroke-glide-stroke combo he’d never even vocalized or realized, logged safely in his subconscious, a cheat codex from fumbled dreams, and Ben had smashed the lockbox. Sweats off the pretense, slaloming his scalp, annexing his shoulder blades, soppy inserts at the armpits and knees, nose plugged with exertion, the filthy, puffy grunts right into Stef’s cute dick, soak-staining the sheets, he’s never heard himself make those noises before, not-pet, not-wild, worse. He’s getting fucked in front of a stranger and he sounds like raw livestock. 

Later, litigating al fresco, Logan will claim, okay I feel this is my fault because I introduced you to Robert Mapplethorpe and now you’re getting spit-roasted by incubuses. Incubi? Incubus and associate, Owen’s salad-fork tine, No, I think he’s just French. 

Later-later, when Stef is a real person eating pork banh mi against the hood of his car, Owen will ask, why did you leave that night, Mitsubishi pen clicking, and Stefan will reply around a shatter of bread, you two seemed like you were having a good time.

Later-later-later, when they’re flirting over the girls’ heads before dropoff, crunching waffles fresh from the air fryer, little teak spoons rammed into each jam jar on the counter: fig, damson plum, seedless raspberry, Owen will mildly say, “doors want to open in one direction,” refilling the milk cups, and he’ll lean on the hinges of his memory, pushing inward to private places, and he’ll wonder, to a disaster-prep refresher, if he ever really left that mirrored room in the red house, rolling on the scarab sea, the doubled terror and the pleasure, wet hoof of his hand against glass, knowing even in his fuck-pig rapture that something was terribly, impossibly wrong. 

[hummingbird24220]

Chapter Forty Three: Small Waist, Big Sword, Even Bigger Crisis

You awoke the next morning with a dry mouth, a fuzzy tongue, and a deep, philosophical question burning in your soul:

How did Zoro, the human embodiment of a brick wall, have the waist of a 19th-century corset model?

It hit you sometime mid-morning, as you sat lazily draped over the rail near the training area, nursing a very suspicious hangover smoothie Chopper had made for you (it tasted like regret and kale).

Zoro, shirtless as usual, was mid-swing with his swords. Muscles flexing. Back glistening. Standard fare. You've seen it a dozen times.

But then.

He twisted.

And the light hit him just right.

That waist.

Tiny.

Snatched.

You nearly dropped your smoothie.

“...Zoro.”

He kept swinging, grunting. “What.”

“...How is your waist so small.”

Zoro paused.

Just slightly.

Then turned slowly toward you, brows furrowing. “...What?”

You pointed with your straw, eyes wide. “You’ve got... you’ve got, like... action figure proportions. That V-line is illegal.”

The crew was beginning to stir.

Sanji walked into earshot with a towel slung over his shoulder, heard your comment, and froze.

“Wait, wait, what did I miss?”

“Zoro’s waist,” you said solemnly, like you were discussing a religious experience.

Sanji looked. Paused.

Then muttered under his breath, “...Okay, yeah, but he’s still got tree trunk thighs.”

Zoro groaned. “Can we not—”

“No, no,” you said, standing now, smoothie abandoned, approaching like a scholar studying a rare specimen. “This is fascinating. You’re like... inverted. Big up top. Big down low. Cinched in the middle. You got a full hourglass. Zoro, you’re—you're built like a dangerous wine bottle.”

Robin, sipping tea nearby, chuckled behind her book.

“You really do have it all,” you whispered, almost in awe. “Muscles, swords, weird compass brain, and now... a tiny little waist.”

Zoro looked like he was calculating how fast he could jump off the ship and disappear forever.

Sanji was snickering behind a hand, not even trying to hide it.

“I am never wearing a belt again around you,” Zoro growled, face red.

“You shouldn’t,” you said. “We’d never find you if you turned sideways.”

--

After the Zoro-Waist Incident™, things on the Sunny spiraled, as they often did, into glorious chaos.

You had simply made one passing observation—“Zoro has the waist of a scandalous widow in a period drama”—and now the crew was gathered on deck, forming a circle like it was pirate recess, ready to make it worse.

Very, very worse.

“Confusing Features Roll Call!” you declared, standing tall at the center of the chaos, tail flicking, arms wide. “This is a safe space—for judgment.”

Robin sipped her tea. “This is going to be good.”

1. Zoro – Tiny Waist, Massive Sword Energy You patted his side as he scowled. “We’ve covered this. Full Dorito. Tiny waist. V-line so sharp it counts as a fourth sword.” Sanji, still snickering: “I’ve seen less dramatic curves on a mountain road.” Zoro: “I’m going to kill all of you.” Chopper: “He’s like a strong ballerina!” Zoro: “WHY.”

2. Sanji – Legs for Days, Arms for... Light Carrying You turned to the chef. “Sanji’s confusing because he’s all legs. Like, all legs. I think he’s 73% shin.” Sanji blinked. “That’s a compliment, right?” You squinted. “I’ve never seen your arms actually lift anything besides food or me.” Robin: “He did carry that one barrel once.” Sanji: “IT WAS VERY HEAVY.”

3. Luffy – Skinny Goblin, Hulk Strength You stared at him. “You look like a beanpole made of twigs. Yet you can punch a mountain in half. Explain.” Luffy grinned. “Rubber!” “Rubber doesn’t have biceps,” Usopp muttered. Chopper: “He’s just... bendy rage wrapped in joy.”

4. Robin – Gentle Goth Librarian, Secret Kraken You turned slowly. “Robin is tall, elegant, always poised—until she grows a hundred arms out of nowhere and suplexes a dude in a full suit of armor.” Robin smiled. “I like to keep things balanced.” You pointed dramatically. “You are the sea's most beautiful horror story.”

5. Nami – Petite but Punches Like Debt Collection “Teeny. Beautiful. Orange-scented,” you said, hands steepled. “Yet when she hits you, you hear math.” Usopp nodded. “I got slapped so hard last week I solved a tax return.” Nami beamed. “Thank you.”

6. Usopp – Stick with Abs You squinted. “Usopp, how are you so... noodly and yet have very suspicious ab lines when you stretch?” Usopp flexed proudly. “Tension and trauma.” Luffy: “He’s secretly ripped!” You poked him. “You are deceptively buff. I feel lied to.”

7. Chopper – Tiny Reindeer, Huge Hands You gently picked him up. “Small.” Chopper blushed. You turned him into Heavy Point. “NOT SMALL.” Franky: “Every time I see him change, I think what if I built a battle reindeer, and then I remember... I don’t need to.” Chopper: “I’m... confusing?”

“ADORABLY.” you and Robin said at the same time.

8. Brook – Spooky Twig, Surprisingly Nimble You pointed at him. “You’re all bone and somehow still do a backflip with a violin.” Brook laughed. “YOHOHO! It’s called flair!” “It’s called witchcraft,” you replied.

9. Franky – Square Jaw, Round Vibes You motioned to all of him. “Literally 60% weapon. Walks like a truck. Has feelings.” Franky posed. “Emotions are SUPER.” “Why are you soft and bulletproof? Pick a lane, tank dad.”

You paused, then raised a single claw dramatically.

“And finally... me.”

Robin tilted her head. “Your entire existence is confusing.”

You bowed. “Thank you. I am honored.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “What did we learn?”

You grinned. “That none of us make sense... and we are hot as hell for it.”

Sanji raised a wine glass. “To the aesthetically confusing crew!”

Luffy: “TO HOT WEIRDOS!”

Everyone: “CHEERS!”

---

It started as a whisper in your soul.

A low, rumbling itch in your fingers.

A gentle nudge from the universe saying:

“Hey. It’s been a while. ...Steal something.”

And you, devoted vessel of chaos that you were, listened.

The next island was a charming little port town.

Peaceful.

Bustling.

Full of life, trade, color, and—

Treasure.

Shiny. Stacked. Displayed openly like a dare.

You didn’t even say goodbye when the ship docked.

You were gone in a blink.

A shadow. A whisper. A blur of fur and questionable morals.

Hours passed.

The crew shopped, strolled, relaxed. Maybe wondered once or twice if you’d gotten distracted by a shiny doorknob and wandered into the void.

But by the time the sun set, you reappeared on deck with a triumphant purr...

...dragging a heavily overstuffed sack behind you.

Zoro blinked. “What the hell did you do?”

You grinned. “Redistributed wealth.”

Sanji stared. “That bag is bigger than you.”

“It’s stuffed with capitalism.”

You dropped the sack onto the deck. It thudded with the weight of your sins.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “How much did you take?”

“Enough,” you purred. “To cause a mild—moderate—okay massive economy crisis. But it’s fiiiiine. No one saw me. I used a barrel disguise.”

Franky: “You started a bank collapse in a barrel?”

You nodded proudly. “And I got presents.”

From the bag, you began pulling out gifts.

For everyone.

For Zoro: A gleaming whetstone and a fancy new sake jug carved with little sword motifs. “So you can drink and sharpen like the mysterious blade man you are.”

For Sanji: A collection of rare spices you could barely pronounce and a silk neck scarf you knew he’d pretend not to like but definitely would.

For Nami: A whole box of gold coins, two rings (stolen off someone’s fingers), and a ledger of stock market secrets. “For your... investments.”

For Luffy: Three hats, five snacks, a small balloon, and a pirate flag from another crew you may or may not have robbed. “Because you’re a gremlin, and I support that.”

For Usopp: A high-grade slingshot scope, a mirror that made his nose look slightly smaller, and a full set of dramatized bounty posters (all starring him). “For your ego.”

For Chopper: Medical tools, candy, and a plushie shaped like a cherry blossom. “Because you’re the crew’s softest boy and deserve everything.”

For Robin: A rare, banned history book, and a necklace with a tiny fossil pendant. “Because I fear and adore you.”

For Franky: Shiny screws. Super oil. A blueprint from a shipyard vault. And a signed headshot of a famous mechanic (you don’t want to know how you got it). “For the cool robot dad.”

For Brook: A stringless violin “for the vibes,” and a box of fancy tea that smelled like bones and lavender. “Because you’re elegant and dead.”

Then finally, you reached into the bag…

And pulled out a single milk bottle for yourself.

“I got what I wanted.”

You popped the cap and drank it, sitting atop your loot pile like a tiny dragon.

Zoro stared. “So we’re rich now?”

You nodded. “For a while.”

Nami was already counting the coins, eyes shining.

Luffy picked up the new flag and cheered, “BEST DAY EVER!”

Robin smiled. “And the town?”

You sipped your milk. “Oh, it’ll bounce back. In a decade or two.”

--

The next morning, a newspaper gull swooped over the Sunny and dropped a bundle with a dramatic thud on the deck.

“BREAKING BOUNTY UPDATES!” Usopp hollered as the crew gathered around. “Who got hotter—I mean—hunted?!”

Nami snatched it, flipping it open with the skill of a woman fueled by debt and curiosity. Robin leaned over her shoulder. Luffy tried to eat it.

And then—

“...Hey. (Y/N).” Nami's voice went flat. Deadly flat.

“Yeah?” you called from the railing, lazily sunbathing with your milk.

She held up the new wanted poster like it was radioactive.

“EXCUSE me. Care to explain this?!”

You perked up and trotted over.

The crew all leaned in, eyes wide.

WANTED (Y/N) Alias: The Sticky-Fingered Cat Also Known As: Prowler, Pocket Ghost, Goblin Girl, The One with the Tail, Shadow Swipe, Meowzer, THE CAT, Velvet Claws, That Furry Problem, Little Fangs, Baby Demon, Loot Lass, Pint-Sized Problem, Milk Bandit, Glitch Gremlin, Island Menace, That Thing That Took My Wallet, and “Please Stop.”

Bounty: 37,000,000 Berries

“...Why is there so much fine print,” Zoro muttered, squinting at the bottom half of the poster, which was entirely your nicknames.

“I think they used a second page,” Robin said, amused.

Brook adjusted his glasses (he didn’t need them) and read, “Her crimes include: grand theft everything, smuggling herself into twenty-seven restricted locations, possession of too much milk, impersonating a village deity, and sabotaging local economy via high-speed burglary.”

Franky nodded with pride. “That’s our goblin.”

But then they reached the picture.

Gone was the Loaf Cat Incident of your last poster—where you were mid-snooze, mid-chonk, mid-unfortunate tail tangle.

No.

This poster was art.

It was you.

Leaping midair. Cloak fluttering. Daggers drawn. Eyes sharp. Ears pinned. Tail perfectly arched like a question mark of doom. Fur kissed by moonlight. Face fierce.

“You look like a book villain,” Sanji whispered.

“Yeah,” Luffy grinned. “But the cool kind.”

You puffed up proudly.

“I clearly have a fan at the Marine Poster Office.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “...You think someone’s drawing those for fun?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you purred, staring at your own poster lovingly. “They get me.”

Robin smiled. “You’re becoming quite the legend.”

Nami muttered, “You’re becoming an accounting nightmare.”

Sanji folded the paper, still holding your bounty poster. “...I’m keeping this.”

“Same,” Zoro grumbled, already stuffing a duplicate into his waistband like he wasn’t flustered at all.

You took a dramatic bow.

“Thank you, thank you. I accept this criminal honor with grace, mischief, and a legally concerning amount of milk.”

Luffy threw his arms up. “Let’s get more bounties!!”

Chopper: “Let’s not!!”

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Sickness 3

Part 3

Anonymous asked:

Season four Sihtric, when the group are passing through the fields during that plague and the river. Reader is the lover of Sihtric and is sick. Her sickness gets worse after the run in with Eadith’s brother Eardwulf. Very angsty with the rise on emotions everyone is dealing with. Eadith tries keeping the reader alive with her medical abilities but it’s to no avail. The reader and Sihtric have what they think are their last moments before she is kidnapped along with Stiorra, Aelswith and Aethelstan. She gets better and reunites after the siege.

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: This is the third and final part of the request I took over from @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

Warnings: angst, angst and a bit more angst, heartbreak, some lowkey smut, breeding kink if you want, fluff and a happy ending, as requested

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Word Count: 4,6K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @csigeoblue @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

"Why are you doing this?" Uhtred seized Sihtric's arm the moment they stepped out of Edward's tent, his eyes sweeping over the young warrior's ragged features. Sihtric was a complete wreck – his once neatly braided hair now a tangled mess, his armour filthy, and splattered with mud and blood. The dark circles under his eyes were not unusual given the thirty-day siege of Winchester, it was the vacant, haunting  look in them that bothered Uhtred.

Sihtric shrugged his shoulders, avoiding Uhtred's stern and questioning gaze. "I just think it's worth a shot."

"No, it's not. And you know it. It's complete madness. Sihtric, look at me." Uhtred's voice grew angrier as he pointed his index finger at Sihtric's chest. "You can't keep going like this. Don't you understand..."

"No, you don't understand. I have nothing left in this world." Sihtric's voice cut off Uhtred's words as he took a step closer, locking eyes with him.

"I've lost people dear to me too. I know the pain, but..."

"Lord, you've always had your children, your dream of regaining Bebbanburg for them. I have nothing. No past, no present, no future. I've lost everything. At least I can try to be useful," Sihtric's voice quivered as he turned away, marching toward a group of waiting warriors with determined steps.

"That daft bastard is trying to get himself killed," Uhtred muttered to Finan and Osferth, his anger evident in his trembling voice.

"I'll talk to Sihtric later. Try to make him see some reason. He's not thinking straight,” Finan offered in a hushed tone, placing a comforting hand on Uhtred’s shoulder.

It was later in the night, the warming fireplace casting flickering flames into the fresh air as darkness descended, that Finan decided to try and bring Sihtric back to his senses.

"Here, have a drink," he approached with an ale mug in his hands, offering it to Sihtric as he settled himself on a large trunk that served as a makeshift bench next to Sihtric, sitting on the ground, his hands on his knees and back leaned against the same trunk.

Finan cleared his throat. "You've been volunteering for every reckless assault that Edward suggests. The ground outside the gates is littered with the fallen. It's a wonder you're still among the living."

Sihtric took a sip and sighed. "I've been wondering why the gods won't let me join them in Valhalla. It feels like they're either mocking me or punishing me for not being able to protect the greatest gift they gave me." Sihtrics gaze remained fixed on the flames dancing around the firewood, as if searching for answers in their flickering depths.

"Lad, you can't blame yourself for what happened."

"It wouldn't have happened," Sihtric said, his elbows on his knees as he clutched the ale mug, his vacant gaze fixed somewhere in the dark beyond the flickering firelight. "None of it would have happened if I hadn't been so foolish to let her come with us. It's all on me. I was her downfall. She'd still be alive if I hadn't entered her life in the first place. So don't try to tell me it wasn't my fault, because it was."

"You know you couldn't have stopped her from coming with us. She did it for the children, Sihtric," Finan said, his hand gently resting on Sihtric's shoulder, though it appeared that Sihtric hardly registered the touch.

"I just watched as they took her away. I was utterly useless. And now she's gone, Finan, and I wasn't even there. She died alone. She must have been terrified, alone and terrified, and there was no one there to hold her hand," Sihtric's grip on the ale mug tightened, and with a forceful motion, he hurled it into the fire, making the flames momentarily flare and dance.

"Every breath I take feels like it burns my lungs,” Sihtric continued, his voice reduced to a faint whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the fire. He turned to face his friend, and in the flickering light, Finan could swear he saw tears glistening in Sihtric's eyes. “Why am I allowed to keep breathing when she isn't? I don't want to walk this earth while she rests on the other side. My only wish is to find an honourable death. If it even slightly helps to secure Aethelstan and Stiorra's freedom, then I'll pass knowing my life wasn't utterly without worth."

“You can’t help them, if you are dead,”  Finan was not ready to give up so easily, "And if there's one thing I'm certain of - she wouldn't want you to carry this burden. She loved you with all her heart, and she wouldn't want to see you like this. You're looking for the easy way out, my friend. If you truly loved her, find the strength within you to keep on living. Do it for her," Finan tapped his friend on the shoulder, as he raised himself to leave. 

Sihtric remained motionless, seated and hunched forward, his head cradled in his hands, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames, as the sweet but torturing memories of your first night together and of your first kiss overflooded him like every night.

Back then, he hadn't expected any of it from you. He had been thinking how to convince Uhtred to give him another mission and let him leave. The memory of how close he'd come to losing his composure the day before still made his cheeks flush and his stomach flip every time he thought about it. The moonlight caressing your skin, shimmering in your eyes, the gentle touch of your hand on his, and that incredibly sweet scent you wore—a mix of lavender and rose oil with something uniquely yours—it had overwhelmed him. He'd almost blurted out his feelings and ruined everything.

Truth was that you were just perfect for him. Your vivacious and kind nature, your constant efforts to lift the spirits of those around you, your unconditional love for the children,  your attentive and caring attitude—every little detail had captured his heart from the very beginning. He was utterly smitten, and yet utterly devastated at the same time, for he couldn't fathom confessing his admiration to you, let alone entertain the notion that you might feel the same way. He just wasn't ready to face the possibility of your rejection. The night before, he had come perilously close—far too close to the brink of making a fool of himself by revealing his longing. 

To say that your words had caught him by surprise would mean to say nothing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Your soft, melodic voice still resonated in his ears, and your words were etched into his memory. Just three simple words: "I like you." Yet, those words had changed everything, turning his life upside down in a single moment. 

And then you had kissed him. The soft, lingering touch of your lips against his was like a bolt of lightning for Sihtric, catching him completely off guard. It felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe, and his heart raced in his chest as he cradled your face in both of his palms, pulling you slightly back, his eyes searching yours for any sign that this was some kind of cruel joke. But the sincerity in your gaze, so tender and with tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, filled his chest with such warmth. As he leaned in to kiss you back, he was flooded with happiness and that weird feeling of frogs jumping around in his stomach.

His fingers trembled as he cupped your cheeks. He recalled your sharp exhale as he pressed you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist, and how you traced his arm up to his shoulders, settling yours around his neck, fingers teasingly tangling in his hair and pulling him even closer. 

The fire was slowly fading, but Sihtric couldn't bring himself to move and fetch more firewood. With his head still cradled in his hands, a desperate, muffled moan escaped his  lips as he recalled the way your lips had brushed against his—so shy, tender, sweet, and warm. He recalled your trembling breath and the soft gasp with which you parted your lips, to let his tongue into your mouth. 

Even now his breath grew heavier at the sweet memory of how trustfully you had surrendered to his heated touch, how instead of withdrawing or pushing him away you had kept pressing yourself tighter against his chest, your fingers raking his hair.

Sihtric closed his eyes, letting himself be completely carried away to that evening.

It was as if he could still feel the sweet taste of your lips, filling him with hunger and desire above anything he had ever felt. He could barely breathe from the yearning that consumed him, feeling painfully restrained in his breeches. 

He remembered every small detail, every word, every sigh and every glance as if it all had happened just moments before. He remembered groaning against your lips, as he noticed your breath accelerating as his hands slowly reached your hips and wandered further down pressing you firmly against his crotch, his arousal hard to ignore. 

He craved for you like he had never craved for anybody before, but the last thing he had wanted was to scare you or to push you into something you didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. He had tried to withdraw, tried to explain, to let you know how much you had him under your power.

He remembered the spark in your eyes as you smiled at him, your fingers caressing his cheek gently, your thumb softly gliding over his lower lip. 

"Follow me," you had whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, your warm breath teasing his skin as you took his hand in yours and turned towards the house, guiding him with you. And he had followed willingly, allowing you to lead, his fingers entwined with yours,  excitement and curiosity pulsing through his veins.

Sihtric recalled how surprised he was as you led him into the silent, sleeping house and into your room.

 "Lady, I…" he had started to speak, his voice rasped, desire and longing evident in his hoarse tone.

"Sihtric," you didn't let him finish, taking his hand and pressing his palm to your cheek, cuddling against it. "Please, make love to me tonight."

Sihtric felt a sudden warmth spreading across his face, cheeks flushing as he repeated these words in his mind. He had thought himself caught in a dream. A dream he was sure he never wanted to wake from. A dream that had turned into a nightmare.

He had almost choked on his breath as your fingers began to unfasten the straps of his leather armour, but he didn’t stop you. He kept watching your every movement, as your slender fingers unstrapped his belt and let it fall to the ground with a light metallic sound. A sigh rolled over his lips, as you tugged at the lower edge of his armour in an attempt to pull it off him. He had wrapped his hands around yours, bringing them to his lips and pressing gentle kisses to your palms, before he helped you to finish what you had started. 

He remembered his fingers trembling in anticipation as he placed his hands at the front of your dress, his lips almost touching yours. “May I?” was the only thing he had managed to whisper, his lips curling into a smile at your soft  “Please,” followed by a whimper as his fingers began to gently pull at the laces beneath your breasts. 

Unable to control that sharp gasp followed by a low, almost desperate moan that left his lips, he had marveller at your naked body revealed to his eyes as your dress flung to the floor.

“Gods, you are so beautiful,“ he had murmured, stepping closer and wrapping his warm, slightly sweaty hands around your waist, his rapid breath betraying his excitement. 

Soft giggles had bubbled over your lips as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed.  

A soft sob shook Sihtric’s shoulders at the memory of your fingers impatiently pulling at the laces of his breeches, stroking his hard length through the fabric, while he freed you from your underpants, settling between your thighs. 

The sweet taste of your body lingered on his tongue as he remembered his lips relentlessly roaming your naked body, every curve and every line of it, starting from your jaw down to the collarbone, passing your breasts, suckling lightly at each of them and travelling further down to your stomach, sucking and leaving small biting marks on your sensitive skin, your muffled moans of pleasure a sweet melody in his ears.

You had been so sweet and trusting, yielding to his touch, letting him take the lead. He was a man, a Dane and a warrior, not a saint; he had had women before and not few. He had loved and been betrayed, he had sought comfort and pleasure in the arms of women who sold their affection for gold, and satisfied his desires in the beds of bored housewives and adventurous maidens. He had once considered himself unworthy of true love, but everything had changed the moment he had met you. He was in love, deeper than he had ever been before. He didn't want you just for this one night; he wanted you for every night and day, for all eternity and beyond, for all the good days and bad days. He yearned to savour every moment with you, to taste you, to pleasure you, to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, and to lose himself in the depths of his own passion and devotion.

And when you nodded your agreement to have him, to welcome him into your body, and he finally dared to immerse himself in the pulsing warmth of your core, your walls taking him in and squeezing around him, he felt as if he had ascended to Valhalla itself and he was sure that if there ever came a moment when he had to choose between Valhalla and you, he would pick you without a second's hesitation.  

Sihtric remembered how you sunk into the pillows, wrapping your legs around his waist, how your nails dug into his back, how you moaned his name bucking your hips against his and how your tight, throbbing walls clenched around his cock, the most wanton sounds leaving your lips as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, finally chasing his own high, the sight of you writhing beneath him, breathless and flushed, pushing him towards the edge.

He had wanted to withdraw before releasing his seed inside you, but you refused to let him, causing him to spill deeply within you, his pleasure indescribable. And for the first time in his life, he found himself silently praying to the gods, that his seed would take as he knew there would be no other woman in this world he would want to bear his children, apart from you.

“I love you,” he had whispered between panting breaths, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he had repeated like a mantra, placing kisses all over your face.

“I love you too,” it had been just a soft murmur against his ear, but those words meant everything to him, causing his face to light up with a smile outshining a thousand suns. 

The night had swallowed the camp in darkness, with thick clouds shrouding the sky, denying even a glimmer of moonlight. The fire had dwindled, reduced to a mere handful of glowing coals that cast a feeble, crimson glow upon Sihtric's features. He sat there, his back resting against the trunk, elbows propped on his knees, and hands hanging limply. Tears trickled slowly down his cheeks, tracing wet, salty paths on his face. He made no effort to wipe them away, allowing them to roll down and soak into the soil beneath his feet.

The relentless, cold inner voice continued its cruel whispers, reminding him that these memories were all he had left. He would never gaze into those sparkling eyes again, never hear that melodic voice of yours, never taste the sweetness of those red, full lips, never feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips, and never witness your children playing.

Could it be that Finan was right? Was he truly seeking the easy way out? The past four weeks had blurred into a hazy abyss for Sihtric. The initial hope that Edward's forces would swiftly reclaim the city had dwindled after several unsuccessful attempts. It was different this time, the Danes didn’t let themselves be provoked and Edward, losing his mind, worrying about his children, was acting more and more like a madman. Days passed by, and the slender thread of hope to find you that had kept Sihtric going had dissipated like a morning mist in the embrace of the rising sun. You were gone and he was utterly lost. 

Out there on the battlefield was the only place where he could escape, if only for a little while, from the agony in his mind, let out his anger and despair, losing himself in the frenzy of the fight, as the clash of swords, the deafening war cries, the desperate shouts of the wounded and all the chaos around finally drowned out the cruel inner voice that haunted him. He craved these short moments of oblivion like an addict. Tomorrow there will be another assault on the gates and he has volunteered again to lead it. Perhaps, if the gods would finally decide to show him mercy, a stray arrow might find him and bring an end to this torment once and for all. 

—--------------------------------------------

You slowly opened your eyes, curiosity mingled with uncertainty as you took in your surroundings, unfamiliar smells and strange sounds wafting around.  A reflexive cough escaped your lips, and you winced, bracing for the anticipated sharp pain that had previously racked your lungs. Surprisingly, it didn't come. You took a cautious, deep breath, realising that the once-persistent ache and heaviness in your chest had dissipated.  

“Ah, you're awake, dear. Easy now, don't strain yourself," a hoarse yet kindly voice greeted you. You turned your head toward the source of the voice and found yourself met by a pair of bright, smiling eyes framed by a sea of wrinkles and lines. A wild shock of silver-white hair framed the old lady's face, cascading in unruly wisps around her shoulders. Her hands, gnarled and weathered, held a delicate grace as they moved with purpose and care expertly feeling your pulse.

"Where... where am I?" you managed to croak out.

"You're in Winchester, child. I found you in a cart left at my doorstep. You were in a dreadful state when I found you. And mark my words, if I ever lay hands on those heartless rascals who abandoned you here without so much as a knock on my door, I'll give them a piece of my mind they won't soon forget."

The old lady's fiery determination brought a smile to your lips, her strength and confidence shining through her frail exterior. You couldn't help but believe she was more than capable of following through on her threats.

"And what about the others?" you inquired, your voice tinged with wonder.

"The others?" the lady echoed, her brow furrowing. "There were no others in the cart, my dear. Just you."

Your smile faded rapidly, memories of the events in the woods rushing back to you, as the image of Sihtric and the others hanging their heads down from the branches of that massive tree intruded your mind.

"Oh my God! They're dead. They're all dead," you cried out, tears streaming down your face as uncontrollable sobs wracked your body. You covered your eyes with trembling hands, unable to contain the overwhelming grief that washed over you.

"Hey, take it easy," the old healer comforted you, passing a cup filled with warm tea. "It will help you calm down. I may not know what happened to your friends you mentioned, but what's important is that you have a second chance. For your sake and for the life you're carrying beneath your heart, you must focus on regaining your strength."

Confusion laced your voice as you asked, still sobbing, "What do you mean?"

"You didn't know? My dear, you're carrying a child, without a doubt," the old lady replied with a warm twinkle in her eyes, her tone friendly and reassuring.

“A child?” you repeated, your voice laced with disbelief. 

"Yes, my dear. A new life is growing within you, and it's a precious gift. You have been given a second chance, not just for yourself but for this little one too."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of a different kind. 

“I’m with a child, Sihtric’s child,” you murmured under your breath, as the thought of carrying Sihtric's child filled you with an inconceivable mix of emotions, joy and hope mingling with sadness and fear, but above everything a new sense of purpose to your life enveloped you as a warm blanket, soothing your aching, bleeding heart. It was as if a small part of him lived on within you, a reason to keep moving forward.

—---------------------------------------

Sihtric stood at the forefront of the chaos, his grip on the rambock's handle firm, his muscles straining as they battered the gate of Winchester. The deafening sound of the rambock colliding with the wooden gate was drowned out by the cacophony of battle - the clash of steel, the war cries, and the roars of men. 

With a final, determined push, the gates groaned and gave way, and the roaring and shouting throng of warriors surged into the city, their cries filling the air.

"The gates, the Saxons have breached the gates!" someone cried out as they ran past the healer's house. The distant sounds of battle reached your ears, drawing you out onto the porch. The clash of swords, the thundering hooves of horses, and the fierce war cries of warriors resonated in the distance.

Driven by curiosity, you took a few steps forward and as you did, a swarm of roaring Danes, emerging from a nearby corner and charging toward the gates, caught you off guard. You attempted to sidestep them, but it was too late. You found yourself swept up in the surge, desperately trying to break free, but unable to escape their relentless advance.

The battle raged before the gates, a chaotic and brutal dance of clashing shields and swords. You were helplessly dragged along, tossed about like a ragdoll, the warriors' roars echoing in your ears as you desperately manoeuvred between them, ducking, jumping, and sidestepping in an effort to evade the deadly flurry of shields and blades. A forceful shove from behind sent you tumbling, and you stumbled over a fallen body before crashing to the ground.

"Shield wall!" a commanding voice rang out, cutting through the cacophony of battle, followed by the blaring blast of horns as you crawled frantically through the tumultuous maze of countless stomping legs.

"Shield wall!" the command echoed once more, and the battlefield around you stilled as men began to fall back. Two shield walls formed on either side of the yard, creating an empty space between them and there you lay huddled on the ground among lifeless bodies and groaning wounded, your hands protectively wrapped around your belly. 

Sihtric's eyes scanned the empty space between the shield walls, as he strained to make sense of the chaotic scene, his heart pounding in his chest, the taste of sweat and blood lingering in his mouth.

Then, amidst the turmoil and destruction, his eyes locked onto a figure on the ground, crouched low, and clutching her abdomen. He couldn't believe his eyes; he thought he had gone mad, that grief and longing were playing tricks on his mind. His grip on his axe loosened, as he staggered backward, his mind racing with disbelief and hope. He had mourned you, convinced that you were gone, that he would never see your face again, yet there you were, a vision in the midst of chaos, a dream, a cruel mirage in the midst of war. As if frozen he stared at the sight before him, paralysed and unable to make his feet move until Finan’s urgent shout jolted him from his stupor.

"Dear God! Sihtric!" Finan's voice rang out, insistent and full of urgency. "It's her! It’s (Y/N)! She's alive! We have to get to her!"

Without another moment of hesitation, Sihtric rallied his senses and started to push his way through the shield wall, his heart pounding like crazy. He rushed to your side, sinking to one knee and turned you over to face him. There you were, unmistakably you, your face contorted with pain and fear, your eyes full with astonishment and awe.

“Sihtric?” you muttered, not believing your eyes.

"Gods, you're alive," were the only words Sihtric could manage, his voice catching in his throat as he lifted you and carried you away from the battlefield, his powerful arms cradling you gently. 

Desperately seeking a safe place to bring you, Sihtric's eyes landed on the battered gates that once guarded the entrance to the inner yard of the convent. It appeared forsaken and deserted. With no better options in sight, he nudged the broken gate open with his foot and carefully carried you inside and continued through the vacant courtyard, taking you to the far end of the garden, where he gently settled you on the ground, his hands instantly wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into a tight embrace. 

He held you close, his trembling fingers softly caressing your hair, tears in his eyes, as he whispered, "I thought I had lost you forever.” 

“I thought you were dead, I mourned you and I wept for you,” Sihtric’s voice was low and croaky. “And I was ready to follow you to the other side. I was so angry at the gods for not giving me an honourable exit from this world. What a fool I was!” Sihtric nuzzled your hair, showering the top of your head with tender kisses.

"I thought you were gone too," you murmured, your face buried in Sihtric's chest, tears soaking his leather armour. "I was sure we would never see you again," your voice quivered.

"We?" Sihtric questioned, his brow furrowing. "Were you with Stiorra and Aethelstan? Do you know where they are?"

"No, Sihtric. I meant... I...," your words were swallowed by the uncontrollable sobs that shook your body. Sihtric gently cradled your face in his large, warm hands, tenderly kissing away your tears.

"My love, my daylight, my sunshine, my everything. It is a miracle I have found you again. I love you, and I'll never let you go. I am forever yours, and you are forever mine," he whispered.

"We are forever yours. We have been blessed, Sihtric. I'm… I’m carrying our child," you finally managed to regain control of your emotions.

"Child?" Sihtric felt a sudden dizziness wash over him as the weight of your words hit him like a tidal wave. He had a strange feeling as if his knees had turned into jelly, threatening to give way beneath him, leaving the big, blood-smeared warrior no choice but to clutch onto you for support. He stood there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around your trembling form, as if fearing you might vanish if he let go.

"Our child," he repeated, his voice quivering with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief. With a burst of euphoria, he lifted you off the ground and spun around, laughter bubbling from his lips like a madman's. Setting you down gently, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. His gaze locked with yours, radiating absolute bliss, as he slowly sank to his knees before you, his lips planting gentle kisses on your belly.

"Hey there, little one," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "Can you hear me? I love your mom more than anything in this world, and I already love you too. I promise, no, I swear on my life, I will take good care of both of you."

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[sirtaliesin]

A running joke on Zatanna's part might have gotten a little turned around at some point. That's okay though.

Serious and not so serious gifts

Every new show Zatanna has, there’s a run of t-shirts. She saves a few from every run, most of them the largest size available. She folds them up and tucks them into a plain brown box and drops them off, her signature signed with a flourish, knowing she’ll never see them again. The boxes go into Jason Blood’s brownstone, and she knows he opens them, she’s seen him do that. Where the shirts go, she has no idea, maybe a trunk in one of his estates somewhere in Europe.

Every new show, Zatanna saves a few oversized shirts and sends them to Jason Blood. She thought it would be funny the first time. Every time after, it’s like a private joke to herself.

She sends him one of the enormous theatre posters once, and really, she can’t imagine where he’d even put it, he tells her the artist did a very fine job with the design but says nothing else about it. There is no place in his brownstone in Gotham that could really display it. It certainly wasn’t a practical thing to keep, but she knows he did anyway. Rolled up and stored away somewhere. Like so many other things he’s accumulated over the years.

Zatanna stands outside Jason’s house with a parcel wrapped in plain brown paper under her arm. Just before dawn, and no one sees her standing there in the softening shadows of Gotham. No one sees the door of Jason Blood’s brownstone open either. No one but Zatanna, who steps lightly past the man who answered.

She turns with a sunny smile and holds the plain parcel out to him.

“I know I’m about a week late, but I did want to give this to you in person.” Zatanna says, voice trailing off as she actually looks at Jason.

His hair is loose, and he’s dressed down in soft cotton pyjama bottoms and an oversized black t-shirt she hasn’t seen in seven years. Her name, emblazoned like a banner ribbon trailing from a black and white magician’s wand, stares back at her.

“You actually wear those?” Zatanna asks, disbelief colouring her tone slightly.

“Yes, they’re quite comfortable to sleep in.” Jason replies, matter of fact, as though he’d never considered doing anything else.

Jason accepts the parcel from her and gestures towards the kitchen, an unspoken invitation for tea in the early morning light hanging in the air. Zatanna follows after him, still a little surprised to find that her ongoing joke hadn’t ended up buried in an antique armoire in Scotland or forgotten in a trunk in an attic. She supposes she shouldn’t be terribly shocked. Jason always was fond of soft fabrics. It does make her wonder. Had her other jokes been taken as earnestly? She doesn’t ask. Isn’t quite certain what she’d do with the answer if he told her where that stupid poster was, and really there are places he could put it, just not in Gotham.

The two of them sit in the kitchen with mugs of warmly spiced tea perfuming the cool, still morning air, while Jason opens the parcel Zatanna had brought him. Inside, carefully nestled in a frame of velvet, is a vellum bound volume matching several already in Jason’s collection. One of the few missing from the set he’d been struggling to complete over the last few years.

Curious fingers trace the cover, noting each little imperfection gained through time and handling. Jason turns the book over, marvelling at how little wear it actually displays, and a soft smile pulls at his features. It really is in very good condition. Certainly one of the better preserved copies he’s seen.

“Happy Birthday Jase.” Zatanna says with a smile.

“Thank you dear.” Jason’s tone is as warm as the tea he’d made, relaxed and content.

Zatanna drums her fingers idly on the table, sipping at the heavily spiced tea, and then…

“So, did you keep the poster too?” She shouldn’t ask, she really shouldn’t, but damn it.

Jason blinks at her. The question registers a moment later, about the theatre poster that was taller than he was. Her surprise at seeing him in one of the shirts she’d sent him over the years colours the question. Jason remembers where it is, framed in a library in Scotland, and he laughs. The silent, squinting laugh turns into a low chuckle at Zatanna’s affronted look.

“I did.” Jason answers finally, offering no further hint at where or how.

“You know what I meant you ass.” Zatanna laughs.

“It’s not here, but if you want to see the frame I had made for it-“

“Oh my god, you actually put it up somewhere.” Zatanna drops her head on her arms, laughter shaking her shoulders.

Jason hums into his tea, knowing that sometime in the near future he’s going to have to let her see. Well, she had wanted to see the new additions to the garden he’d talked about. One more reason in a growing list he supposes.

“Did you think I’d just left it in storage somewhere?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Zatanna’s voice is muffled against her arms.

She had thought he’d just tucked it away with a thousand other things. An oddity to be revisited by accident some day, like a forgotten bookmark or a misplaced trinket. Never mind the size of the thing.

“How embarrassing is this going to be?” Zatanna slouches in her chair, chin propped up on her fist in resignation of the anticipated retaliation.

“It’s in the library dear, not the front hall.”

That…Actually does make her feel better. She really should have known better than to play jokes on Jason, at least ones that could be turned against her in some capacity. Hardly the retaliatory measure she’d braced for.

Later, when actually confronted with the stylized portrait of herself with its marquee announcement, she wonders if whoever made the frame saw it. It’s an elegant thing, carved reliefs that remind her of old theatres and heavy velvet swags, but it’s polished with a fine stain rather than gilt. Understated and without distraction. It’s sweet, and somehow that annoys her just a little. She’s still going to set aside a few shirts from the next run. Cotton wears out eventually after all, and Jason hasn’t yet.

[goldenherc9]

Herculean Gains: Jock Alpha Edition

Dudes this request for this edition came from my good bruh @rod-tf huhu was total fun writin it bros

Rodney nervously adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses as he stepped into Herculean Gains. His oversized sweater hung off his thin frame, and his skinny jeans were a little too tight, emphasizing his small, twinky build. He wasn’t the gym type—he was a nerd, through and through. Computer science major, top grades, and way more comfortable in front of a screen than near a dumbbell. But lately… he felt out of place.

He wanted to be bigger. Stronger. More dominant.

A deep, booming voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Yo, lil’ dude, you lost or what?”

Rodney turned—and nearly dropped his notebook.

Standing before him was Hercules Gold, the biggest, most alpha guy Rodney had ever seen. Towering, bronzed, and ridiculously muscular, Hercules looked like he belonged on the cover of Jock Kings Monthly. His gym tank barely contained his bulging pecs, and his sweat-drenched shorts clung to massive quads. His smirk radiated pure cocky dominance.

Rodney gulped. “Uh… I wanna get big.”

Hercules raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You? Bro, you’re, like, a little gay Harry Potter.”

Rodney’s face burned red. “I-I know! But I wanna change.”

Hercules crossed his arms, sizing him up. Then, with a smirk, he reached under the counter and pulled out a massive red shaker.

“This is Himbo Juice—Jock Alpha Edition.” He shook it, and the thick, shimmering liquid sloshed inside. “One sip, and you’ll never be the same.”

Rodney hesitated. “Will it… change who I am?”

Hercules snorted. “Nah, bro, it’ll just make you who you were meant to be.” He shoved the bottle into Rodney’s hands. “Now drink.”

Rodney swallowed hard—then chugged.

BOOM.

Heat exploded through his body. His arms surged outward, biceps and triceps ballooning with thick muscle. His sweater ripped apart, exposing rapidly growing pecs covered in a layer of manly chest hair.

His waist thickened, abs carving into an eight-pack of pure power. His legs grew into massive, muscular trunks, straining his jeans.

His glasses changed to sunglasses as his jawline sharpened, his features morphing into a rugged, bro-tier chad. His styled nerdy hair morphed into a an alpha masculine jock cut.

Video provided by @rowdy317 (thanks bro for the big help on this, stay awesome my red beast dude!)

His mind… shifted.

“Uh… bro?” Rodney now Rod muttered. His voice was deeper. More confident.

Hercules smirked. “How ya feelin’, big guy?”

Rod turned to the mirror, flexing his huge arms. His brain, once filled with coding, equations, and anime, now held only one thing—being a STRAIGHT ALPHA JOCK KING.

“Haha, bro, I feel fuckin’ awesome.”

Hercules clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the real you, bro.”

Rod just grinned, flexing. No more nerd shit. Just gains, chicks, and dominance.

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Wanna a tf then ask away with what ya want (more info the better) or DM me with it bros, i will do my best on the tf you want, time to transform mah dudes