#<- me shortening the word sorry

[soundwavemain]

Hold Your Heart In My Hands

A JazzWave fic requested by @fanficmaniatic | @karday 

General content warning for blood and tending to an injury.

In the surveillance room, Soundwave often found solace from his rowdy compatriots. No one bothered to step foot inside, not even his cassettes who were frankly too nosy for their own good. If anyone did accidentally enter the infamous surveillance room, they were subject to an interrogation from the Decepticon’s intimidating communications officer. Soundwave wasn’t stupid–he knew that not many aboard the Nemesis truly enjoyed his company. They were too put off by his stilted speech, his silent E.M. field, and his blank stare to attempt any friendly banter let alone stumble upon his secret sanctuary.

Of course, the surveillance room was the one place on the Nemesis that didn’t have any cameras monitoring it. Not even the hallway directly outside the door had a screen to display movement. With three vents leading to the room and how much time Soundwave spent inside it, it would be embarrassingly easy to off such an important member of Decepticon high command. Not that Soundwave was worried. He could handle almost anyone among their ranks and it wasn’t like the Autobots had enough gall to attack their vessel.

A tiny noise filtered through one of the vents. Soundwave stared at it as the sound of metal against metal slowly increased in volume until the vent cover popped off with a resounding slam! He sighed, covering his visor with his servo. Another clang echoed in the room as something much heavier than a vent cover landed on the floor. Soundwave dragged his servo across his faceplate. He should’ve erased the mech’s damn memory of this route. It would’ve been simple enough to restrain him, open up his helm, pick apart his processor to locate and lock the strain in his core files.

Instead, Soundwave snapped at the mech on his floor, “Jazz: not welcome here.”

Jazz smirked at Soundwave. He moved so his spinal strut rested against the wall. “C’mon, mech. You didn’t say that last time–”

“Jazz: desist,” Soundwave hissed to the spy’s amusement.

They both knew there would be no removing Jazz by physical means before he wanted to leave. Soundwave turned back to his wall of monitors. If Jazz insisted on staying, then Soundwave needed to do his best to ignore him. His optics followed the movements on the screens. Skywarp was testing her teleportation limits with Shockwave, Rumble and Frenzy were running from an oil-slicked Starscream, Shadow Striker raced through the halls, narrowly dodging mechs walking through the hallways, Hook removed a rogue missile from Vortex’s chassis–

A sharp tug at Soundwave’s processor nearly made him fall forward from the sudden abrasiveness of it. He managed to stay upright but his frame locked up. The pull dissipated to a weak pulse of energy. Soundwave had felt sensations much stronger than it many times outside the surveillance room. A damaged mech on the battlefield automatically requesting medical aid from a grievous injury, a cassette shot down while performing reconnaissance–they always released a distressing field to garner pity from nearby mechs.

Soundwave whipped around to stare down at Jazz who, while not under the Decepticon’s watchful gaze, had let his faceplate slip into a grimace. All at once, Soundwave realized Jazz’s E.M. field loosened from its tight shield held close to the mech’s plating and it was suddenly too difficult to ignore. The third in command moved without conscious thought, dropping to kneel beside the Autobot that had invaded the Nemesis time and time again.

“Jazz: injured?” Soundwave tried cautiously.

He had seen the other mech on the battlefield enough times to know that Jazz acted like a cybercat when hurt–he’d slink off when no one was paying attention to tend to his own wounds.

Once, in the aftermath of a particularly brutal battle, Soundwave went searching for a cassette that had gone missing in the fray. Instead, he had found Jazz splayed out on the ground with a giant chunk of his spinal strut sparking, incapable of movement. He could’ve terminated the mech–no one had ever caught the elusive Jazz with his guard down–but when Soundwave raised his blaster, Jazz merely tilted his helm back. As if the matter of deactivation was beyond him.

It irked him. It set off alarms across his HUD. Yet…

Soundwave had healed Jazz that day. Behind a cracked rock, Soundwave welded some wires closed–a butchered job at field medicine but it allowed the Autobot to crawl back to a real medic.

Now, Jazz winced, tilting his helm away. “Hope that offer’s still on the table. Even though we’re not… you know.”

Soundwave sighed in exasperation. Leave it to Jazz to use the worst words to describe their–don’t call it a relationship, it’s not a damned courtship–liaison. That was worse. He grabbed at Jazz’s arm, popping a piece of armor off to reveal the medical ports hidden beneath.

“Hey.” Jazz attempted to pull his arm back but his strength was waning. “Not even gonna offer a mech some energon first?”

Yes, Soundwave thought bitterly as he jammed one of his plugs into Jazz’s medical port, this was definitely worse. He ignored the other mech’s comments as he called upon the frame’s diagnostic data. His HUD lit up in an instant with notifications. He went through them, noting any concerning input before coming across a notice flashing red across his visor. A laceration in the upper chassis caused by rapid and continued movement jostling an embedded–

“You were shot?” Soundwave suddenly hissed, surprise overriding his vocalizer patch. He tried to look at Jazz in the optics but the spy kept avoiding his gaze. “Jazz: found by Decepticons?” His processor ran a mile a minute, formulating scenarios that would end in this exact outcome. He had never asked what brought the spy to his surveillance room that one fateful night, what kept him coming back for more, out of respect for both their sensitive jobs, but now Soundwave couldn’t help but wonder who among his ranks shot his–

“Not a Decepticon,” Jazz hissed. “An Autobot.”

“Oh.” That silenced Soundwave’s processor for a moment. Then it only piqued his interest. “Autobots: subject to insubordination?”

If the Autobots began attacking their own, they might be even easier to fell in a sweep led by Starscream should Megatron allow it…

A digit tapped Soundwave’s helm, bringing him back to the conversation. Right. Jazz was injured. And Soundwave was already planning the Autobots’ demise. He reset his vocalizer to ensure it didn’t needlessly glitch out on him again.

Before he had a chance to say anything, Jazz smirked at him and asked, “Soundwave: apologetic?”

The Decepticon couldn’t help the way his pauldrons hiked in his embarrassment. It was a far cry from a perfect mimicry of his voice but it didn’t need to be to get the point across. Instead of deigning Jazz with a proper response, he finally located the bullet wound and dug his digits in. Jazz hissed, batting at his arm.

“Easy, mech.”

“Jazz: not easy,” Soundwave mocked. He pressed his free servo against the other mech’s collar faring as his digits searched for the bullet.

It felt odd to be sticking his servo somewhere so close to Jazz’s spark, like an uncomfortable pinch to his sensornet’s common stimuli. This close, he couldn’t ignore the normally silent spy. Not just his words–Jazz’s entire frame seemed to work under the assumption that no one was authorized to listen to it. So the freed E.M. field, the frantic and nonsensical thought processes filtering through his audials, were… odd to say the least. He couldn’t mention it aloud, though. Knowing the intelligence officer, he’d scare the poor mech away by mentioning any of his internal functions.

Soundwave’s digits knocked against something. He checked Jazz’s faceplate and when he didn’t contort it any more than it already was, Soundwave grasped the object. It was small, solid–the bullet. As he began to remove it, Jazz’s servo covered his. He paused, staring at the Autobot’s blank visor. “Bullet: needs to be removed. Frame nanites cannot begin self-healing with alien object obstructing their–”

Jazz gritted his dentae to ignore the pain. “If that bullet comes out, you’re gonna have worse problems than a dead Autobot on your hands.”

“Earth slang,” Soundwave tutted.

At that, Jazz grinned. “This Earth slang got pretty far with you, didn’t it?”

Soundwave twisted his digits. “Desist,” he ordered.

“Scrap. I got the message, mech.” Jazz pushed at Soundwave’s arm. They were still attached. Somehow, that was more embarrassing than being servo-deep in the mech’s chassis. “‘s a tracking bullet.”

The Decepticon froze. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. Soundwave’s frame moved subconsciously, pressing the blaster he kept tucked away in his subspace against Jazz’s mandible. The barrel forced Jazz to tilt his helm back. He batted at Soundwave’s arm like he wasn’t being held at gunpoint. Like Soundwave wasn’t flinging his energon everywhere.

“Relax,” Jazz insisted, hissing low. “It won’t send a locator beacon.” He pushed at Soundwave’s arm–not the one aiming a gun at his helm. No. The one still forming a medical connection between the two mechs. “My security protocols deactivated my internal locator beacon millennia ago. Which means,” he drawled, visor flickering, “the bullet’s signal is blocked as long as it’s in my frame.”

It made sense, Soundwave reasoned with all of his processing that still argued to kill Jazz–annihilate the enemy, the threat to his cassettes. He shook his helm. Those logic strains were based on irrational emotions. It wouldn’t do him well to give them any credence. Still, his blaster remained where it was. “Jazz: true purpose for coming here. Answer now.”

Usually, anyone–Autobot and Decepticon–trembled at the rumble in Soundwave’s glyphs when he took on a threatening tone. Under normal circumstances, the Decepticon’s third in command could paint fear in the spark of any mech he spoke to.

Jazz was not an average mech.

His servo tugged at Soundwave’s, pulling it closer to his chassis. “Gonna make me say it, huh.” He wasn’t asking. He knew. Soundwave wasn’t the type of mech to do anything unless he was asked and he would make Jazz ask. “You’ve got those seismic waves, right? I’ve seen you use them on the battlefield. Destroyed everything in your path.” He pressed Soundwave’s servo flat against his wound. “Think you can focus that right here for me?”

Soundwaves were catastrophic weapons. They could deactivate an entire squadron of mechs in a matter of kliks. Soundwave only used the trick when under extreme stress, when he believed he had nothing left to lose. He attempted to separate himself from Jazz. “Seismic waves: incredibly damaging.”

But Jazz didn’t seem to comprehend the magnitude of his request. He pressed forward, clutching Soundwave’s servo. “When used by a random mech, sure. You’re not just anybody, Sounds.” His glyphs turned to a soft buzzing static as he said the Decepticon’s designation. It left Soundwave checking to see if the noise had knocked his gyros off kilter. “C’mon. You can focus that power here, can’t you?”

“Jazz: requires medical assistance,” Soundwave tried instead. He couldn’t escape Jazz’s iron-clad grip on his servo but knew that if Jazz persisted, it wouldn’t end well. He could deactivate him. “Soundwave: incapable of completing request.”

“Hey,” came Jazz’s gentle voice. Soundwave silently cursed how the tender intonation made it so his spark eased in its casing. The Autobot reached for his other servo, the one holding the blaster. It fell with a clatter as Jazz slid his digits across his palm and intertwined their digits. “Use that big, beautiful processor of yours. I know you’re still searching through our connection. You’ve gotta be able to see my spark readings. What do they say?”

Despite the uneasiness that continued to plague Soundwave’s field, he listened to Jazz. It was simple enough to pull the information from their link. His visor dimmed as the readings filled his HUD.

He froze.

Although Jazz was suffering from an injury, trapped under the stress from energon loss, his spark spun at an even pace. Soundwave’s visor brightened to the image of Jazz’s calm faceplate. 

“I trust you, Soundwave.”

Oh.

Oh.

And wasn’t that just a terrifying thing? Soundwave held his enemy’s life in his servos. He didn’t even want to take it–what kind of Decepticon was he? He stared at where his servo still covered Jazz’s wound, then at the rapidly dimming blue visor.

“Soundwave: will try,” he said slowly.

The smile Jazz threw his way sent his spark spinning again. He busied himself by building up seismic waves to the speed of his spark. A low, constant hum filled the surveillance room as the waves traveled through his arm. He increased the force, the hum turning into a deep, plating-rattling rumble. Multiple pop-ups filled his HUD. He cleared them before they could convince him to stop. The bullet was deteriorating from the collisions. Soundwave could do this. He could do this for Jazz. Red flashed across his optics as he doubled down. They only needed to hold out just a bit longer. He watched the last pieces of the tracking bullet evaporate, entering Jazz’s fuel lines to be discarded.

Soundwave did it.

He saved Jazz.

“Jazz–!”

The glyphs turned into a frenzied static as Soundwave finally looked at Jazz’s grey visor. All too suddenly, the sensation of the other mech’s limp grip registered to Soundwave’s overtaxed processor. An odd, warbled noise echoed in the surveillance room. It took him a moment to realize that the sound came from him.

“Jazz,” he whispered, leaning close to the other mech.

There wasn’t the comforting thrum of a spark easing into a normal spin rate, no readings going into the green as Jazz’s frame finally relaxed while its nanites worked to repair him–only silence.

“Jazz,” he tried again. “Jazz: respond.”

Nothing.

“Jazz,” his glyphs were basically static at that point, cracking from the force on his vocalizer, “respond.”

It felt like a cacophony of sensations–the hum of mechs speaking through the monitors, the constant buzz of the equipment, the erratic vents coming from Soundwave. He had to do something. But what? He was a communications officer. He managed surveillance. He couldn’t even perform basic field medicine, let alone reactivate a terminated mech.

“Jazz,” Soundwave sobbed.

His digits dug into the wound, energon already congealing at the opening. He hoped for a curse, a swat from the other mech’s servo for the harsh treatment. He searched through their medical link for any readings. The only reports that came up were the last spark notes, the speed of its spin, how it abruptly stopped–

Soundwave froze. He read the report, then read it again. Jazz’s spark skipped then skittered to a stop when Soundwave amped up his waves. Perhaps… he could use his waves to jumpstart Jazz’s spark.

It had to work.

It had to.

The release for Jazz’s chestplates was easy to find through their link. They opened with a hiss from the hydraulics already beginning to seize. Inside lay his spark–bright white, nearly blinding, but starting to dull by the klik. Soundwave pressed both his servos against it, wincing at the heat it gave off and the way Jazz’s arm came along with his. He released his seismic waves just as he had done before. His optics searched frantically for some sort of physical sign that it was working. When there was nothing, he searched through their connection. Jazz’s spark was stagnating–not brightening, not turning dull. Soundwave increased the power of his waves, ignoring the sound of their armor rattling against protoform.

And–

Frame reboot: successful.

Running diagnostics.

On instinct, Jazz dismissed the scans. His processor ached and the screenings usually didn’t tell him anything he couldn’t feel for himself.

Reinitializing diagnostic scans.

Now that was odd…

Jazz searched through his HUD for what was overriding his commands and found a basic connection formed between his medical ports and another mech. His processor lagged for a moment as it attempted to form the necessary logic strains to figure out what happened.

That’s when one hundred percent of the past however long hit him like a semi–Optimus had apologized for cycles after but, scrap, it still ached in his pelvic joints–

Jazz groaned. His helm fell back, clanging against the wall. “Pitslag. ‘s like Volcanicus stepped on me…” A firm weight shuffled in his lap. When he onlined his optics, he met Soundwave’s bright yellow gaze. “Hey, Sounds. I’m ‘nna guess everything went well.”

At first, Soundwave said nothing. Just kept his unwavering gaze set on Jazz’s faceplate. Then he raised a servo and pressed it against Jazz’s mandible, soft to start then firm once he realized Jazz wasn’t going to leave. A creaky, frail noise came from his vocalizer. All at once, he pressed forward, pulling Jazz closer.

“Jazz: functioning,” he whispered over and over again.

He pressed his mask to Jazz’s faceplate. It left the spy quite thrown for a loop. Jazz tried to turn and face Soundwave but was stopped by the Decepticon’s mouth on his–when’d he even lower his mask? His frame froze, hydraulics seizing with a whine. Soundwave was kissing him.

Soundwave was kissing him.

Since when–

Subconsciously, Jazz shook his helm. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth–earth slang–and offlined his optics. His arms came around Soundwave’s middle, his digits fitting into the grooves along the Decepticon’s spinal strut. The divide between his chassis and Soundwave’s was nonexistent, held together as they were. A ping came up on his HUD that he had finally reached an optimum internal temperature after rebooting. When Soundwave pulled away, Jazz felt dazed, confused. He didn’t bother to online his optics.

“You gotta tell me what happened.”

Soundwave slipped closer. “Request: later?”

“Later,” Jazz agreed. “Later.”

[iztea]

How to start an art account?

well obviously by posting art but i guess this is not what you wanted to hear so i'll go more in depth

i think the biggest piece of advice i can offer when starting an art account is to not become fixated on numbers or likes and let external validation be your main source of motivation because in the beginning you will simply lack the visibility regardless of the quality of your art so if you start with the mentality of " i want to get big and get tons of likes and be popular" then you'll just give up prematurely as growing an audience takes a lot of time and effort and it's never something stable or consistent (unless you and the content you post are but that's another can of worms) If you want to post on instagram, you can even disable the likes option so that they won't influence you

What i do suggest, however, is to take the first step, which is also the hardest one: post one (1) artwork online. The rest will flow naturally, you don't have to force anything (it took me sooo many months to start posting again on instagram and here on tumblrr; i was always waiting for Something that never came until i finally did it and then it became "routine" fun, even. This is also general life advice from yours truly that I myself don't follow but i digress).

Really now, just post for fun, scream into the abyss, share your art with whomever comes across it. Don't think too much about it and live in the present or in a day-by-day manner. If you start with no expectations, you can't become disappointed, so just don't expect or wish for anything. Don't even think of yourself as an artist or an art account, you're a person who likes to draw and shares said artwork online. That's all there is to it. The rest is not in your control.

From my observations, there are two routes you can take your art account down on:

a) use your account strictly for art== the post-and-dip type, the ~mysterious type that never engages with their "audience"

b) the talkative personality haver art account that besides posting art also shitposts, replies to comments, answers questions etc (like me god i tried to be mysterious but i can never stfu so maybe it was never a choice in the first place sniff sniff) anyways pick your poison! Or try to be both. Or neither. Don't even listen to me that's just what i noticed

Last but not least, be patient. If your art is objectively good skill-wise, it's only visibility that you lack and that will come one way or another. Just focus on improving your skills by drawing what you personally enjoy. it's a win-win situation. And trust me, you can definitely tell when the OP really had fun with an artwork, you can see it in everything so practice that..... having fun and enjoying yourself is crucial that's ur lifeline brotherrrrrrrr As always, there's a mental and concrete side to anything so i guess this was more ~psychological advice, if you want actual tips for posting your art online, i've answered similar CCs before so you can check my courious cat account for that

Hope it helped!

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonic Boom - S3E18

Chapter title: Co-op Mode

Summary: Nominatus returns, team-building ensues, and the author jams as many references into a single chapter as possible.

AO3 Link

First | Previous | Next

[Episode opens on our six heroes all gathered together in Tails’s house. Sonic and Amy are playing a fighting game, while the other four watch from various positions around the room.] 

“You’re up against a champion of Ultimate Smackdown Siblings, Amy, so get ready to get smacked down!” Sonic cried, pressing buttons on his controller as quickly as he could.

“Psh. Please!” Amy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re just button-mashing! It takes a master of strategy to win this game.” With that, she dealt Sonic’s character a particularly brutal combo, prompting a chorus of “Ooh”s from Tails and Sticks. 

“Excellent move.” Shadow commented, currently leaning against the back of the couch. Sonic pouted in protest, somehow managing to direct his expression towards Shadow despite never allowing his eyes to leave the screen.

“Aw, come on, why’re you siding with Amy?” he protested, his voice pitching up into whining indignance. “I thought you said you were gonna be a neutral party!”

“I am,” Shadow maintained a tone somewhere between infuriatingly calm and effortlessly smug—somehow both an improvement from and yet also worse than the tone that had so easily aggravated Sonic back when they were rivals. “I’m just enjoying the entertainment, no matter whose side it comes from.”

Unfortunately for Sonic, he was just distracted enough by this opportunity for some of their usual banter that he didn’t see Amy’s Terminal Smack activating…and then was promptly forced to watch as his character got blown across the screen and disintegrated in a blast of light.

“No!” he wailed, sliding off the couch and onto his knees. “How could this be? Betrayed, by my very own friend!”

Shadow hid a far-too-fond smile at being called Sonic’s friend. Thankfully for his pride, the hedgehog was far too caught up in his own lamentations to notice…but both of them were soon interrupted when the TV screen began to crackle with static.

“Tails, what’s going on?” Amy leaned forward to eye the screen suspiciously, her hands opening and closing in preparation to summon her hammer.

Before the fox could speak up, the connection suddenly resolved, revealing a black-and-red demon with four horns and an arrow on his forehead. 

“Nominatus?!” Tails cried. “I thought you were trapped in Eggman’s lab!”

The demon folded his arms, scowling out from the screen. “What, you assumed I’d just stay there once my episode feature ended? As if! That man was far too busy with his robots to pay attention to us, so it was almost insultingly easy to escape.”

Shadow had been watching the entire scene with increasing confusion, and took this opportunity to speak up. “Who is this, exactly?”

“Oh, he’s just some sort of evil computer guy!” Knuckles explained.

“Just—wh—” Nominatus sputtered. “I am not ‘some sort of evil computer guy’! I am Nominatus! Viral sensation! Trending on every platform where there are trends to be had!”

Sonic and Tails shared an extremely skeptical Look, and that was the final straw. “You think you can mock me, hm? Well then! I’ve faced you twice in your own realm, but no more fooling around!” the demon barked. “This time…you’re coming to me.”

And with that, he snapped his fingers, causing everyone to vanish into thin air.

The controller that Amy had been holding clattered to the floor as the television shut off abruptly, its screen cutting to black. The house was eerily silent, every hint of life within its walls having been rudely blinked out of existence.

…and then the energetic music of the introduction kicked in, utterly shattering the mood.

[The intro sequence goes off without a hitch…but this time, the characters are drawn in pixel art for their signature poses, with an 8-bit version of the theme tune to boot. Otherwise, the individual character introductions and team shot all stay the same.]

[Nominatus takes the villain position this time, tossing various ‘like button’ symbols  back and forth between his hands in a manner reminiscent of a certain ‘bad ending’ from a specific game released back in 1991.]

[The intro then continues on, before ending with the title of this week’s episode.]

In a blinding flash of light, the six heroes appeared in a white shopping mall filled with neon store signs and decorations everywhere. Above, an unmistakably vaporwave—inspired purple sky, complete with pink-yellow sun, was visible through the glass ceiling. 

Each of them also carried their own personalized weapon, styled in silver with neon accents in their specific color. Amy had her usual hammer, while Sticks held a high-tech bow and arrow. Knuckles wore reinforcements for his hands (and a pair of angular blue sunglasses atop his head, for some reason), and Tails carried—of all the things—dual handguns. Sonic, of course, had a one-handed sword, which was currently attached to a white belt around his waist. Shadow, on the other hand, had an odd sort of pole with an octagon and the word “STOP” at one end strapped to his back, which he immediately removed and stared at with a distinct amount of bewilderment.

Just as the six of them had finished recovering from the shock of being in a totally new world, a projection of Nominatus appeared in front of them. “Welcome to the Mall of Metalloid Madness!” he announced, proudly spreading his arms wide. “This is the lobby for a new game I’ve invented called…the Labyrinth Zone!” 

(Curiously, while no one else reacted to this, Sonic shivered for reasons even he couldn’t quite explain.)

“Once you all declare you’re ready, you’ll be dropped in teams of two into my carefully constructed labyrinth! It’s your job to find your way out without using all three of your lives, or else…” The demon smiled wickedly. “You’ll lose a lot more than just the game.”

“And what if we don’t want to?” Tails gave him a look so flat it could’ve had a job as a cardboard cutout. “What if we just find you and blast you until you put us back?”

Nominatus frowned. “Well, you wouldn’t want to disappoint my millions of followers, would you?”

Nobody said even a single word of agreement. The crickets remained silent in solidarity.

The demon sighed. “Fine, then, if you don’t do it I’ll never let you go and your island will fall prey to my inevitable conquering forces, blah blah blah, you know the rest.”

Sonic sighed unhappily. “Okay, guys, I guess we gotta do this.”

Tails shrugged. “At least I’ll probably get to blow some stuff up.”

“Nice positive thinking…I suppose?” Amy said hesitantly, but with a faintly resigned smile. 

Nominatus perked up considerably at this, regaining his previous energy. “Well then, when you’re ready to proceed, press the button with your color.” Behind him, six pedestals rose from the ground, each with a lit-up button on top in blue, yellow, red, pink, orange, and black.

Before he could switch off his hologram, the team rushed directly through him, making him glitch out and yell after them, “Hey! Show some respect for the villain who’s holding you hostage, maybe?!”

Of course, none of them did this, instead opting to all hit their buttons (Knuckles even doing so with such force that the pedestal nearly crumpled). Instantly, they all vanished in a burst of light, teleporting into the referentially named Labyrinth Zone.

[We cut to Sonic and Amy, who are together in the maze.] 

“Huh.” Sonic muttered, taking in his surroundings. They largely consisted of tall, black-and-grey gradient walls, contrasting with a blinding white sky.

“It seems like we really do get to work in pairs—that’s nice, at least!” Amy said brightly. 

Sonic shot her a grin paired with a thumbs-up. “Sure is! You mind whacking me up high so I can get a good look at the layout, Ames?”

She pulled out her hammer, but then hesitated, squinting upwards. “Hold on a minute, let me try something first.” Abruptly, she hurled her hammer straight up…only for it to smash into a force field right above the walls and crash right back down.

“Ah.” Sonic stared upwards. “Thanks for saving me…a lot of broken bones, apparently.”

“I wouldn’t want to mess up your handsome face, now would I?” Amy asked, in a manner that was only half joking.

The hero abruptly choked on his spit and began coughing vigorously, before stumbling after Amy as she walked forward to enter the maze. “Hey hey hey, you’re not supposed to be the one who’s leaving me behind!”

The two of them rounded the corner and came face-to-face with a series of platforms and badniks (obviously just Nominatus-themed recolors of Eggman robots), an obstacle that was more than manageable. Sonic tore through the high route immediately, bouncing between badniks like the showboater he was. Meanwhile, Amy trawled the lower route at an admittedly slower speed, with the trade-off being that not a single robot escaped her wrath.

As she progressed onward, she found herself having to dodge several spike traps, before leaping onto a moving platform. Unlike her speedy friend, she preferred to handle these platforms with care, making sure she knew exactly when they’d be closest before using her hammer to launch herself into the air for a bit of extra leeway. 

Amy jumped to another platform, this one moving up and down instead of side to side. Carefully, she focused on the feeling of it climbing beneath her feet, until—“Hyah!”—she slammed her hammer down just as it stopped its ascent. 

Astoundingly, her hammer launched her into the air, complete with a spray of hearts where she had previously stood. So we get bonuses for perfect moves. Noted. she thought to herself, quite pleased, even as she stuck the landing.

The pink hedgehog scanned the sky for her friend, watching as he revved up a spindash and launched himself across a particularly massive gap ahead of her. She hesitated to say this too often, lest it become ego-stroking instead of a compliment, but his speed really was quite impressive—

—at which point she watched in horror as his jump fell just ever so slightly short—

—and he slammed into the edge of the other side, uncurling in shock just in time to plummet into the pit below.

Amy raced forward, heedless of the careful tactics she’d previously used as she skidded to a stop, throwing herself to her hands and knees by the void below. The darkness seemed endless, with no speck of blue to be found in sight.

“SONIC!!”

xxx

Tails and Knuckles blinked into existence next to each other, looking around themselves in surprise. “Hey Tails!” the echidna cheered, waving happily at his friend. “I’m glad we got put together.”

Tails beamed up at him. “I’m glad too! Between the two of us, we should be able to get through this place no problem!”

They fist-bumped lightly, Knuckles taking care not to break his friend’s hand in the process. “So, where do we start?”

Tails frowned, staring up at the sky. “I think I see a distortion up there…maybe there’s some kind of invisible ceiling keeping me from flying? Let me check…”

The fox flew carefully upwards to the top of the wall, reaching out a single finger to touch the force field above—

—and promptly exploded.

“Tails?!” Knuckles yelped, stumbling forward and staring upwards wildly, as though his friend would reappear at any moment.

As a matter of fact, Tails did reappear right next to Knuckles, with a sound straight out of a 16-bit game and several flashing invulnerability frames. A ring of repeating, glowing text surrounded his middle briefly, reading: TWO LIVES REMAINING.

“O-kay.” the engineer remarked. “No touching the weird barrier. Honestly, I probably should've used a wrench, but oh well. We get it now.”

Of course, the next room they entered then proved to contain platforms that would slowly rise towards the ceiling, before abruptly dropping back down once they had successfully crushed any occupants into the deadly force field. 

Tails instantly facepalmed, but then narrowed his eyes at the puzzle, thinking carefully. “So, we’re going to need to time this really carefully, Knuckles. It’ll be tough to get over these platforms, and we only have five lives between us. I know I’ve got my tails, but are you gonna be okay moving that quickly while also staying low so you don’t get zapped?”

“I could also stay even lower,” Knuckles remarked glibly, without any further elaboration.

“…what do you mean by that?” Tails tilted his head, his brow furrowed.

“What if we just went under the platforms?”

Tails turned to look back at the puzzle, and immediately facepalmed again.

xxx

Shadow and Sticks appeared together, in the third and final starting area of the labyrinth. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Shadow remarked, half to himself.

“Huh?” Sticks blinked at him, clearly confused.

“It’s just a joke—obviously you were brought here with the rest of us and are now visibly partnered with me, so a comment that implies surprise is meant to be sarcastic.”

Sticks stared for another moment…and then actually snickered. “You’ve got a good sense of humor,” they said casually, as though they were discussing the weather instead of dropping a massive compliment bomb directly on Shadow’s head.

The android’s eyes immediately dropped to the floor. “Ah. Thank you.”

“Just telling the truth,” Sticks said, taking a couple of steps forward before glancing over their shoulder to see Shadow properly. “I don’t get why people bother with saying anything but what they mean.”

“I know why they do it, but I don’t necessarily enjoy it.” Shadow explained sympathetically.

While he had been speaking, Sticks had already peered suspiciously around the nearest corner to see what Nominatus had in store for them. Abruptly, their eyes widened, and they shot back around the corner as quickly as possible. “Shadow?” they said, looking over at him warily. “Can ya use this—” they held out a leather hair tie—“and tie up your quills real quick?”

“Certainly.” Shadow began to put up his quills without complaint. “I don’t doubt your judgment, but might I ask why?”

Sticks frowned. “I think you probably need to see for yourself, but I just have one other question first, while we wait for their backs to turn around again.” One of their ears twitched, signaling that they were listening to something. Indeed, when Shadow focused on his own auditory receptors, he could hear the slow, methodical pace of feet drawing nearer. Metal feet, to be exact.

“What is it?”

“The parts and schematics used to make you, they’re the only ones that exist in the world, right?” They rubbed their upper arm uncomfortably.

Shadow frowned, baring his fangs ever so slightly.“Yes. I have the only set of blueprints, and spares for almost everything. It’s enough to do patch jobs, but not enough to build another android.

“Sticks…what exactly did you see?” 

“Something that shouldn’t exist.” they muttered, their ears flicking back briefly against their head. They gestured to the corner, letting Shadow know that it was safe to take a look.

He walked up to the edge of the wall, looked around it, and saw…himself.

Copies of him.

Walking right there.

In the hallway.

xxx

Amy still knelt at the edge of the pit, staring down into the darkness. By now, she had begun to scan the interior of the abyss, searching for any type of foothold that could be used to scale its sheer sides. So far, she wasn’t having much luck, but if there was one thing that she made sure everyone knew about Amy Rose, it was that she did not quit.

Suddenly, she was startled out of her intense focus by a chiptuned sound behind her.

She whirled around, lunging forward and swinging her hammer as hard as she could at the threat—

—and blinked, wide-eyed, as it passed right through Sonic’s flashing body and the “TWO LIVES” message.

“Huh. Respawn invincibility, that’s helpful.” he remarked, before shaking his head (and rustling his quills in the process) as he came back to reality.

“Hey, wait, what was that for?! You were gonna hit me!” Sonic complained.

Amy huffed unhappily. “I thought you were down in that pit! I was just about to climb down there and look for you!”

Sonic grimaced. “Yeah, no, probably don’t do that one. I…don’t think it has a bottom.”

“…what.”

“I didn’t hit anything, I was just falling, and then all of a sudden I reappeared back here.” he explained, making Amy glance back over her shoulder and shudder.

“Alright, so how are we getting over it?” she asked.

Sonic shrugged. “I dunno, maybe you could just hit me over or something?”

“…how would I get over after doing that?” Amy gave him a decidedly unimpressed look.

“Ah. Yeah. Right.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I could run along the wall and take you with me?”

Amy smiled confidently at him. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

“Alright, lemme just—” Sonic stretched out both of his arms, did a couple of quick side-lunges, and then shot her one of his trademark grins. “You ready?”

“Of course I am.” she said proudly, tossing her quills.

Moments later, a blue blur had grabbed her and was already racing across the wall, moving so quickly that gravity didn’t even have time to consider dragging them both down into the pit. (Gravity might have been tempted to post an incensed rant on the internet about this lack of respect for established institutions, namely laws of physics, were it capable of doing so.) Somehow, they even managed to tear back down the wall on the other side, before skidding to a stop safely on the other side of the pit.

It was at this point when Amy noticed that Sonic had taken her hand to pull her across. Coincidentally, it was also exactly this moment when Sonic realized just what he had done. He immediately pulled his hand away with such speed it’d have given her friction burn had she not worn gloves, and refused to meet her eyes.

Amy, meanwhile, smiled quietly to herself. She understood.

“So, how about we finally get out of this maze?” she asked, granting him freedom from his own internal embarrassment.

Sonic perked up immediately, his energy fully restored. “I thought you’d never ask!”

xxx

“Alright, Knuckles, are you ready for this?” Tails asked, once again. “We’ll need to move quickly under these platforms if we want to make it before they drop back down.”

“I was born ready!” the echidna insisted, cracking his knuckles and beaming confidently. “Literally—echidnas are meant to dig in enclosed spaces anyway, that’s why I’ve got these bad boys!” He dropped into a boxing stance easily, showing off the newly-reinforced spikes on his hands.

Tails smiled, shaking his head and running a hand through his bangs. “Okay, just promise me you won’t try to dig through solid steel.”

“Pinkie promise!” Knuckles replied cheerfully, holding out his hand with little finger stuck out and all.

The fox snickered, but held out his own hand and linked their fingers, as requested. Then, he turned to the platforms, flicking his tails a few times in an effort to warm them up somewhat. “All set?” he asked his friend.

Knuckles shifted into a stance that was even closer to the ground, letting more of his innate instincts take over as he prepared to power through the obstacle ahead. He flexed his fingers, curling them into fists once more, before giving Tails a thumbs-up.

Tails gave him one back (along with a smile that looked astonishingly like Sonic’s) and then, sucking in the biggest breath he could, yelled “GO!”

Immediately, Tails tore off, blasting forward and around obstacles with a speed cultivated from following his older brother around for years on end. Knuckles was no slouch himself, however, able to squeeze into unexpected places while the platforms were low from his lifetime of practice digging tunnels. His sense of direction was second to none as well, helping him avoid obstacles even when they didn’t register consciously in his mind.

He did almost try to dig once or twice in an effort to stay down, especially as the ceiling began to rise, but he thankfully remembered his promise to Tails each time and didn’t do more than push off a little awkwardly from the ground as a result. Meanwhile, the engineer had pulled out his dual pistols and was firing off shots at the platform mechanics ahead, trying to at least get one or two of them to slow down without actually compromising his own speed.

However, as they pushed themselves further along the course, the tangle of uneven machinery posed more of a threat than they would have liked. Tails struggled to maintain his top speed while dodging pistons, and Knuckles nearly got his spikes snagged on wiring a number of times.

Vaguely, out of the corner of his eye, the echidna registered some of the pistons beginning to extend to their fullest heights, even as the end was in sight, and so—

—launching himself off the ground with all fours, he hurled himself towards Tails and curled around the fox with just enough momentum to get them clear of the platforms right before they crashed down.

After a moment of silence, Knuckles uncurled, to reveal a perfectly unharmed and extremely delighted Tails. “We made it!” he cheered, holding up a hand that Knuckles had no hesitation in high-fiving right back.

[Camera gives a close shot of the high-five, before cutting to the next and final group.]

xxx

Shadow felt a prickle of cold run down his back and lodge itself right in what passed, in him, for a stomach. “Those…what are they?”

Sticks jumped on his shoulders, making him nearly overbalance and grip the corner of the wall in an effort to prevent them both attracting the attention of the things. “Fakes,” she said simply, distracting him from any ire he might have felt towards her. “They’re walking weirdly, nothing like how you do. They don’t even seem to know how to use those skates they’re wearing.”

Shadow tensed further. “They shouldn’t know much of anything, since they’re not made by the Ancients or the doctor.”

“Do ya wanna smash ‘em?” Sticks asked eagerly, but seemed to hesitate when he couldn’t think of a reply. Sure, he didn’t want them to continue existing, but it felt a little strange to smash things with his face on them…especially so soon after this little group had convinced him that maybe his face didn’t deserve to be smashed.

She hopped off his shoulders, pulling him back behind the wall. “…do you want me to smash ‘em while you wait here?”

Shadow shook his head. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I just don’t really like the thought of hitting a bunch of weird robots that someone’s made to look like me…” he muttered.

“Well, how about this? You go out there and Chaos Blast them, then just hang back and cover me!” Sticks offered, grinning in a distinctly feral manner and slamming one fist into an open palm.

“You’re okay with beating up a bunch of other Shadows?” he asked, frowning.

Sticks shook her head hard. “No, I’m okay with beating up a bunch of robot imposters trying to impersonate my friend! This is my dream!!”

[Camera shows a close-up shot of the lower part of Shadow’s face, as well as the top of his chest. His mouth has a small, yet very genuine smile.]

“Well then, let’s not waste any time, shall we?” he said, activating his skates and blazing around the corner.

“CHAOS BLAST!”

xxx

Not long after their scrape with the bottomless pit, Amy and Sonic found their way into the center of the labyrinth. Before either of them even had a chance to consider any of the other pathways, Knuckles and Tails came running out of one of them, seemingly in high spirits. It only took the two teams a second to register the sight in front of them, before the four were practically crashing into each other with excitement at finally being reunited.

They didn’t have long to wait before Shadow and Sticks arrived, moving at a much slower pace. Shadow’s legs, skates, and gloves were smeared with a strange black substance, but he was otherwise clean—in stark contrast to Sticks, who looked like they’d just been through about fifteen oil changes. There was hardly a body part that wasn’t splattered with the stuff, not to mention their bow and quiver, which were practically dripping.

“Are you alright?!” Amy cried, rushing over immediately and pulling out a spare glove in an effort to help Sticks tidy up somewhat. “Oh my goodness, what happened to you?”

Sticks, meanwhile, folded their arms triumphantly. “We fought a bunch of fake Shadows! I got most of them, but Shadow hit a lot with his Chaos Blast powers.”

Shadow sighed, nearly going to rub his face but then looking at his glove and reconsidering. “It certainly was an experience.” he muttered.

Sonic made a move towards him, but just as he did, the ground began to shake. The six heroes wobbled briefly, stabilizing each other just in time to register that the labyrinth’s center circle they stood on was actually a platform—one that was slowly rising towards the final level. But after the strangeness of the labyrinth, there was no real way for any of them to guess what might be coming next.

The platform delivered them into a dark room, marked only by a dome of red cross-hatching that gave off a faint glow. Automatically, they all grouped into a tight circle, watching each others’ backs carefully.

With a flash of light, the dome lit up around them, showing hundreds of thousands of message bubbles winking in and out of existence each moment. 

ohc nominatus streams never disappoint

stacicoot just subscribed!

GET THIS BREAD!!!

I mean, it’s not like we wanted to watch this, but nobody else could be bothered to spend any time with us…

Suddenly, Nominatus dropped from the ceiling, landing in a surprisingly striking pose as his cape billowed behind him. “Welcome…” he bellowed, “to the final boss!

“You’ve done very well so far, and I honestly do appreciate it.” he continued, striding towards the team. “It’s been a while since I had a big event, and I needed something like this to boost my ratings in the algorithm. You all definitely delivered! I haven’t had this many viewers in a while! But I’m afraid…these people certainly aren’t here to watch you win.”

He smirked. “They’re here for me. So while you may have survived this far—

“—I suspect you’re about to break that streak.”

“Oh, no way!” 

Sticks pushed to the front of the group, her teeth bared. “I just hit my personal best in ‘number of enemies defeated in solo combat’, and I plan on living to beat that another day, gamer boy!”

All five of her teammates burst into various degrees of laughter behind her at the name she’d chosen for Nominatus. Bolstered by their support, she continued: “Nobody else might want us to win, but we want us to win! And guess what? That’s enough for me!”

Around her, the others burst into cheers, drawing their cool cyber-weapons. And then, they charged.

[For the rest of the fight scene, the animation kicks up a notch. It starts with a fast circle pan around Nominatus as all of the heroes attack him in their own unique ways, from a whack that only a quick forearm block kept from hitting him in the face (complete with comical CLANG sound effect) from Shadow to an earth-shattering ground slam delivered by Knuckles. 

However, the camera then reveals that this has done absolutely nothing to significantly damage the digital demon…

Then, the team begins to work together in similar ways to what they did during their time in the labyrinth, and nearly every strike hits perfectly. Nominatus hits back with lasers and harsh swipes with his claws, now finding himself struggling to even the odds. It becomes clear quickly that teamwork, as it often proves to be, is what helps the heroes succeed in their battles.]

When he saw an opportunity left by a successful hit from Shadow and Sticks, Sonic raised his sword, dropping into a fighting stance. He shot a wink over at Amy, smirking. “Hey Ames, you ready to see my Terminal Smack?”

The hero revved up his legs, faster and faster, until they formed a figure eight—and then he shot forward, leaping into the air, and slashed his sword downwards. 

Nominatus went flying backwards, skidding across the ground. As he came to a stop, the various messages began to flicker out, one by one, becoming more sparse as time ticked by.

The demon struggled to push himself upright, his arms shaking. “No…no! Wait, chat! Chat, I can still win this! No!!”

Sonic grinned, pointing his sword down at Nominatus. “You want us to keep kicking your butt on livestream? Or are ya gonna let us go?”

“Ugh…fine!” the demon snapped. “Just go! I’ll find other ways to diversify my content!”

And with that, the world broke down around them, becoming more and more pixelated…

…until then they were back in Tails’s living room.

“Aw yeah!” Sonic cheered. “Did you guys see me with that sword? I was all like hah—hyah—” he continued, mimicking his movements from the fight moments prior.

“Yes, Sonic, we were all there. We definitely saw it.” Shadow replied, voice drier than a Meh Burger bun.

All of a sudden, the TV blinked on behind them, their game of Ultimate Sibling Smackdown still loaded. “Ready for another round?” the announcer asked, cycling through one of its preset voice lines.

All six heroes either screamed, jumped, or did some combination of the two. Tails even ended up in Knuckles’s arms.

“Uh…maybe we should hang out on the beach for a while. Far away from any video games.” the fox suggested, after an awkwardly silent moment.

The rest of the team, still in varying states of sheepishness, wholeheartedly agreed with that particular statement.

[roll credits]

[thelyingjoke]

i know u havent mentioned any before but, do u have any favorite ships

it’s probably noticeable from how i’ve never talked wbout them but Yeah i don’t

i don’t particularly dislike them, but i don’t have any myself nor do i really engage with them regularly

at least if you’re talking in a romantic sense. platonic ships are my Favorite Ever i eat them up give them to Me!!!!! Right Now!!! but my mind cannot comprehend romance most of the time haha (i say most of the time because, funnily enough, my favorite game (aside from v3 ofc) is a dating sim. and it’s maybe some sort of exception. i don’t get romance unless it’s one Specific dating sim)

i don’t mind them though, i do see them when looking in tags and i can often go Aw that’s cute :) or Ooooh neat :). i do really appreciate people’s love for their pairings and the dynamics present or any analysis into it! looking at different interpretations is fun!! but my mind Always defaults to Platonic Stuff so in my head i always think So True Best Friends Forever (and then a lot of other stuff specific to romance just Does Not Get Through. my brain goes ?!?!?! haha). all of these are queerplatonic pairings in my eyes……..

[stellisketches]

I was looking through the Ro’Meave tree and I was wondering how Zane The First died cuz like I feel like that dude had a lot going on considering he was both the high priest and relic wielder ?

hahahahahahahah you have no idea the wellspring you've just unearthed.

I actually planned on writing a whole thing on Zane the First (aka Zane the Martyr) because his story is an interesting one. 

Zane I was the first born son of Rikard II. From and early age it was said that Zane I was magickally blessed, and received divine visions from both the past and future (though he could not always tell which was which). It was decided that he would enter the priesthood (to which he was very enthusiastic about) and inherit the relic of Esmund when he came of age. (Side Note: The relic of Esmund was actually owned by the church, not the Ro’Meaves, meaning the church controlled which Ro’Meave wielded the relic. This is why there are so many generational gaps between relic wielders). It was almost predetermined that Zane I would become the High Priest thanks to his visions, and was treated almost as a messiah for the people of Ru’aun. This only strengthened as he got older, as he was incredibly generous, pious, and kind. It was said that every word that left his mouth sung like poetry, flowers would bloom in his presence, and his voice gentle enough to make the birds sing. (obviously historical embellishment but you get jist. The man was practically Jesus sugarcoated with the mannerisms of a Disney princess). Anyway, he was THE it-boy of Ru’aun for pretty much his entire life. 

Up until the end of the Divine Crisis.

See, the Divine Crisis was a schism that happened in the religious beliefs of the Ru’aunians. See, before the Crisis, The Divine Warriors were worshipped fairly equally, with Irene only worshipped slightly more because she was native to Ru’aun (This belief was referred to as Senism). However, a new church (known as the Matronists) rose up who focused ONLY on Irene. The Matronists believed that since Irene was the only Divine Warrior that didn’t have any recorded instances of going through reincarnation, she was the only Divine Warrior that was an actual goddess. In the beginning, the church was mostly tolerated, as there had existed some small sects that focused on worshipping one or two particular divine in the past (though they didn’t really hold any degree of power). They started up in the southeast of Ru’aun and began to spread. They must’ve had some really good speakers in their ranks, as within seven years of popping up almost half of Ru’aun converted to the new faith is some shape or form. 

The only major city who’s population didn’t have any Matronist population was O’Khasis. This was because 1) They were far in the west and hadn’t really received any missionaries yet, 2) O’Khasis possessed the biggest archive of information about the divine warriors in Ru’aun, meaning belief in ALL Divine warriors was pretty steadfast, and 3) Zane I was a REALLY GOOD public speaker who preached the Senist message. 

Eventually, a group of Matronists DID show up in O’Khasis. This caused some controversy in the city-state as to whether or not they would be allowed in the city and allowed to build their own church. Lord Rikard II was apprehensive to the idea. His younger brother, Garmen, thought the Matronists should firmly be kept out of the city as they were a threat to their rule (Side Note: Garmen was extremely bitter about the fact that he did not hold the title of Lord. He had repeatedly questioned Rikard’s ability to rule in the past and would devour any power he was given. He was also religious to a certain extent, but moreso in a “divine right to rule” way). However, Zane I (true to his benevolent nature) believed everyone in O’Khasis was allowed to practice their own beliefs. Rikard eventually sided with his son and allowed for the Matronists to enter O’Khasis, and a year later allowed for a church to be built. 

Now, several years later, the church had become even bigger, and more radical. The Matronists had begun to preach that Senism was heretical and practicing idolatry through worshipping the “mortal” Divine Warriors. Book Burnings had started popping up around Ru’aun and there was even a little Senist persecution in the far east. There were even whispers of overthrowing Senist Lords. 

In O’Khasis, Garmen was the first to hear of these whispers, and figured that if something like this came to pass, then the new Lord would be replaced with a Matronist. Realizing this, Garmen ‘harmlessly’ converted to Matronism and began secretly supplying zealots with extra funding and encouraging more Matronist preachers He also began encouraging Zane I to let Matronists use the Archive of religious and historical text kept in the Cathedral of the Divine (known as the Juumel Katedraal). Zane agreed, of course, and slowly the number of converts in O’Khasis steadily began to rise. Somewhere along the way, Garmen actually started to believe in the Matronist method seriously instead of just using it for power. However, one day a Matronist zealot took a bunch of books from the archive and began burning them in the street. This caused Rikard II to ban and punish book burnings with a heavy prison sentence of 6 years per text burnt. Things got a LOT more tense in O’Khasis as book burnings kept popping up along with more Matronist whispers of overthrowing Rikard II. At one point Rikard tried to plead with Garmen to speak on his behalf to the Matronists (Side note: Rikard wasn’t mad that his brother had converted to Matronism before. He was surprised and a little worried, but was never prejudiced against him. They more so got into arguments about how his personal beliefs shouldn’t affect the people of Ru’aun). Garmen lied and said he would, but then started spreading lies to the Matronists that his brother was planning on persecuting them and burning them at the stake. Then, after one larger book burning that involved a group of Matronists, Rikard made the hefty decision that Matronists were officially banned from using the Divine Archive. It was this act that, unfortunately, sealed his fate. 

Eleven days after the order was enacted, the Purge of Pages began. The Purge of Pages was a riot that began in the evening of the eleventh day and continued until dusk of the twelfth. Matronists took to the streets and began forcing their way into different libraries to take books and burn them in the street, along with persecuting Senist people. Honestly there is way too much to go over in a single post but the important stuff is this: 1) A mass or rioters stormed the royal palace in an attempt to kill Rikard 2) Rikard’s other child, Raine was smuggled out of the palace and taken to the Juumel Katedraal 3) Rikard was murdered by his brother 4) Zane I was able to hold off the destruction of the Juumel Katedraal via magick 5) Zane ordered that Raine be taken out of O’Khasis 6) The Juumel Katedraal (along with the entire archive) was set alight 7) Zane I refused to leave the Cathedral even as it burned around him, and was last heard reciting the Divine Prayer until the roof of the building collapsed on him and 8) Raine was intercepted by Garmen’s men and taken back to the palace. 

In essence, Zane I died a martyr trying to protect his sister and save his beliefs & history from being burned to the ground, though ultimately it was somewhat in vain. The Purge of Pages was the single most devastating loss of historical and religious information in all of Ru’aun’s history, with over 80,000 books, scrolls, and texts lost to the flame. 

[ghostboyjules]

It appears the last two (2)….times I’ve tried creating this post, tumblr thought I was too wordy, so I’m going to attempt to get in and get out before it eats itself again

this playlist (a Dream of the Endless™ character examination via my silly brain and sad ass music) took me entirely too long and I'm going to throw my laptop out of the window if I have to look at it any longer so pls pls take it and I hope that if you listen or even read the lyrics that you find something new, or hear something you like.

This absolutely would not have ever seen the light of tunglr.hell if not for the beautiful souls of the Sandman fandom, and a few of my new friends and mutuals. So special internet cookies and hugs to these inspirational, encouraging, and beyond talented individuals; @wordsinhaled , @weirdfishy , @wizardofgoodfortune , and @xx-vergil-xx - i love y'all dearly and I hope this is even HALF of what you would have expected, or a quarter of the amazing content y'all have bestowed upon my lil eyeballs. Now Onward! to words that personally injure me!

Florence + The Machine -Too Much Is Never Enough

And the crown, it weighs heavy 'Til it's banging on my eyelids Retreating in covers and closing the curtains One thing's for certain, oh A year like this passes so strangely Somewhere between sorrow and bliss

Oh, who decides from where up high? I couldn't say "I need more time" Oh, grant that I can stay the night Or one more day inside this life

~I first encountered this song in it's source material FFXV, and there it destroyed me. Now, wearing my dumb lil blorbo glasses yet again, it is back with vengeance..goth royalty sad wet cat flavored (gross), vengeance. "too much is never enough" .... oh sweeties...

VIRA - God Complex

God, I could try To be the one To be the one I'll tear down the sky What do you want? I'll do it all for life My love, my alibi Tonight, tonight I'll try to do it for you

I'm gonna be where you are Doesn't matter how far Because we are meant to be I'm gonna be what you need Darling, please worship me Unless you prefer to plead

~pretty sure this is the angriest sounding song on this thing? but it is fitting.. and desperate.. and wanting and... painful. when she grits out 'try' and 'sky' the way she does.. god the emotion. this just brought to mind Dream and falling for someone hard enough to the point of destructive devotion...

AJJ - Body Terror Song

It will betray you Be used against you Then it will fail on you, my dear But before that, you'll be a doormat For every vicious narcissist in the world Oh, how they'll screw you all up and over Then feed you silence for dessert

~ I love seeing people explore the idea of Dream just...not vibing with being fully corporeal. At least not in the way he is while in the Waking.. what a mood, and especially after the fishbowl...whew.

Philip Wesley - Lamentations of the Heart

[Instrumental~]

~I wanted to include a few instrumental tracks in here and this one felt apt because I used to fall asleep to this album all the time. Like it was one of the only ones I could fall asleep to with any certainty. The feeling and title for this one tho struck me with Dream specifically so I went with it. The rest of the album is so nice though, highly rec.

Iris Lune - Paper Mache

Save me from myself I've been in the dark too long Paper mache love Make me believe that I can change Make me believe that I'm not strange At all

~ this song!! it sounds so so ethereal and her voice is GORGEOUS but the lyrics!! have mercy the lyrics! big ole owwie! "save me from myself" , "make me believe that I can change, make me believe that I'm not strange" hhhh (also if y'all couldn't tell, this will be dreamling flavored, I think I'll tag them too jic but. yes...)

Penny and Sparrow - A Kind of Hunger

tremble, recognize the distance Go try and murder every preference I’ll keep hangin' ‘round for reference come care about me come care about me

changing, watching you with wonder you’re less and getting even younger dying is just a kind of hunger come care about Me come care about Me

~this is... such a heavy song. hadn't heard it before starting this playlist but found it and immediately had to add it.. just. come care about me. changing, watching you with wonder. Dying is just a kind of hunger. that line specifically. -lays on the floor for 3hrs-

Carly Rae Jepsen - Gimme Love

Gimmie love (Oh) It's the way we are together (Oh) Wanna feel like this forever, forever (Oh) It's the way we are together And I never thought I'd ever say forever

~originally was gonna be a joke song to lighten the mood but haha! nope! I mean it is lighthearted but it still absolutely, in my mind, fits Morpheus. beautiful babygirl of the endless...smooch

Jon Bellion - Stupid Deep (Acoustic)

What if who I hoped to be was always me? And the love I fought to feel was always free? What if all the things I've done Were just attempts at earning love? Yeah 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, oh, stupid deep

~this song fucks me up! 😀 for real though, I highly suggest watching the acoustic performance of this that he has on youtube cause the vibe is so.. intimate and dreamy and gorgeous.. and the lyrics.. jon bellion, sir.. smh.. the ending..

Marika Hackman - Undone, Undress

They heard my heart for miles The air inside Was seeping out In silent shouts It crumpled in my chest

~this is definitely... a nightmarish..creeping kind of song, and the lyrics are, according to the Genius annotations, rather distressing but I don't really see them the same way. I can't really explain it but hopefully y'all will see what I mean. love this one specifically "Load me heavy, I can't bend. Break me better, so I won't mend" break me better.... hhhhhh

DBMK - Switchblade

Did you hear I coughed my heart out? It never fit me so I'm likely to drown My body yearns for something real now Suggesting kitchen counters, can openers, and close encounters to hold me down Ain’t no one's boyfriend, wow I'm busy up in my brain but they don't see anything, yeah

I open up too easily, look at me Single sided blade of insecurities, yeah I open up too easily, speak to me Cutting through my comfort like its misery, sad

~this. SONG. he just like me fr 😔 azdcafs nah, honestly idk if this is projecting, but to MEE I like to think about Dream being so ready for a partner, and he gives so so much of himself to them and loves so passionately but he also has just... so many issues. just ugh this song..

Blegh - His Hands

He feels handcrafted just for you But he's a little bit too far away and You can't, you can't His hands are on you And you know you'll be gone by the morning but you know he loves you And you know you like his strong hands, strong hands

You're too real for me You should go to something better I'll give you to someone better I have friends that'll be on earth for longer I have friends that won't feel like monsters

~another song that I was not prepared for before hand that ruined me so viciously, that I had to scream at multiple ppl about it, most of which were mentioned in this post, but Verg's reaction was very memorable because I believe she told me she was on public transportation and the way she phrased it had me rolling around on the floor. but yeah y'all just gotta hear this fuckin,... bear mace of a song (with your Dreamling Glasses™ on pls, as i believe it is meant to be asxacsgdcvc)

Agent Fresco - Wait for Me

I can’t see clear The rage of rivers roam every tear They all fall through vague and vast tunnels With hurts of hatred came blinding years Will they disappear?

I’m far away, treading a path I’ve made and it’s laid with stones of fallen love I need to feel and to make atonement before coming home

~-motions to song- I mean... c'mon... this alone? nah nah nah..I gotta lay down.

Talos - Endgame

I’m drawn across An empty space This dreamland now A tired waste O it’s the endgame

A blackout heart A seething truth There’s nothing in me Left for you We’re lies

~ Talos...Talos Talos Talos... y'all. if you don't know him, but like indie-ish electronic music with beautiful angelic Irishman vocals? pls... he makes me insane. He also just gives me Morpheus vibes in general, I'm not exactly sure why, but... I also think the cover art on his first two albums are very Morpheus energy, could just be me tho

Emma Ruth Rundle - Savage Saint

I held him, his whole life In my hands, in my heart

Don't be ever forgotten, Savage Saint Never draw blood in the garden, faint Don't be the name that's drawing shame and Never let your heart harden, little flame

~I knew I had to have Emma Ruth in here somewhere, but it took me a second to find the perfect song.. and I was torn between a few, but I saw this one and. Immediately my heart was out of my body. Thinking about Orpheus.. and Dream thinking about Orpheus.. draw blood in the garden,,, I held him his whole life.. in my hands in my heart.. little flame.. it seems I am upsetti spaghetti.

Sleeping at Last - Neptune

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how

~Sleeping at Last my beloved <3 ... if I could snort 'atlas pt 1 the album' I fuckin would. also there's a song on there for literally any blorbo. i could bet my life on that. somewhere on there! "if brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece" ah hah.. hahaha..

Sea Power - Want To Be Free

Now we're under the stars Smoking cigars On top of a motorcar Hanging out Like some kind of nebula We

Want to be free Want to be free It will last forever Eternally

~this one was more for vibes and because it's beautiful, but also if I think too hard about Morpheus and how he just wants to be normal and rest for a little while, then I will have to go eat a whole bag of chocolate chips and cry myself to sleep.

Clem Turner - Divine Loser

"Connect yet stay opaque," I cannot have it both ways Please do not tell the time I can't be trusted with the date

My god, you break the skin But may I be thy heaven? Will you take my sickness While I deprive you of your health?

~haha Divine Loser..defo Morpheus (jk. or am I) that second part I included.. I keep having to re-read those lyrics, cause.. my goodness. there's a part later that says "baby just let me bleed in peace" like... whoof. Clem Turner is the only person on here twice, mostly cause these two songs are just so phenomenal I had to and the lyrics... SHMACK.. and Clem's VOICE?? pardon me?

Clem Turner - Honeywell

Get it through your pretty head Take me with you instead Forget her, she's gone So, tell me, dear stranger What's got you distraught?

Mm, here I am to bring Psychosomatic freedom to your head May I be of service, newlywed? See me as a host to all your greatest dreams And then some change As long as your compassion stays the same

~"So tell me, Dear Stranger, what's got you so distraught?" Um..is that in a dreamling fic, cause... 👀 and then "see me as a host to all your greatest dreams and then some change, as long as your compassion stays the same." running in circles, sobbing, hopping out my window, running into the woods...etc

Mustapha Kamel - Can You Feel Me

[Instrumental~]

~ this song just makes me -lays face down in the carpet for 2+ hrs- and the cello is gahdamn gorgeous..

The New Basement Tapes - When I Get My Hands On You

When I come home to you Gonna take you down to the riverside When I come home to you Hold you in my arms all night

And now you know Everywhere on earth you go You're gonna have me as your man

~ Mushy Dream Rights!!! let this inconceivable being be a sap!! I love seeing him clingy and sweet and so so in love and just AAAHHH I could literally weep, I love this weird scrungly man.

Glass Animals - JDNT

I'm all armored up I've got my old helmet on Keeping out an eye Puffing all my feathers up One more little blow One more tap and I collapse

~heehee another nightmarish song. not only is this a fuckin BANGER, but Glass Animals has such a.. Sound. that's dreamlike most of the time, but sometimes can be so.. tense and creepy, and the lyrics can be violent and just downright odd. mostly from the zaba album, but regardless. I could talk about Dream + Glass Animals for hours, as proven with N (@wordsinhaled) because we have done exactly that, I think twice now lolololol (also I thought the line abt the helmet was.. hehe funny)

ABRA - Pride

Palms up, no crown You wanna mess around I wanna hold you down It's not okay I need you everyday

I lost all the pride That I thought I could keep Can you see me Say you feel me It's a big world But I fall at your feet Reach out and touch me

~ this was originally an entirely different song! but I switched it out last minute and I am v happy that I did because this song..this song fucks severely, but also it lets me put a facet of Dream on this playlist that I love seeing, which is the needy and seductive lil bastard that he can be. i think i could make a whole other playlist dedicated to that aspect tbh azcacdfavcg

Purity Ring - Asido

Oh, the madness in weakness Doubled o'er on the plate Fill an ocean with weaponry Hurricanes of our grace

Feel as lonely as I do, as I do Feel as lonely as I do, I do Feel as lonely as I do

~I wanted some Purity Ring on here because I know their genre is sometimes described as dream pop or witch house, and their lyricism has this... poetically visceral aspect to it sometimes that I adore while also being very ethereal. Love them. also tho, feel as lonely as I do?? of course it had to be in here.

Hozier - It Will Come Back

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

It can't be unlearned I've known the warmth of your doorways Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you Oh, please, give me mercy no more That's a kindness you can't afford I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born You'll hear me howling outside your door

~ okay look, I know everybody and their mother who has made a playlist like this has put Mr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne on it, but like - come on.. look at those lyrics. He just Gets It™ and the music slaps ass! I have like, an actual Dreamling playlist in the works as well, which I'm sure will be... longer. but hopefully I'll have the foresight to work on it a bit at a time, and PERHAPS prepare a word document, since I cannot seem to help rambling at any chance I get 💀

Son Lux - Labor

I will break with you For your body to be freed and pleased Take the weight of you For your gravity to be erased

Come to life, my hungry arms are begging you But what more can you do?

Labor reveal before our eyes Into our ears Unfurl with light The stars around us disappear Just what is torn What comes alive inside of us

~ I wanted.. something big on here. I don't necessarily have a desired order for this to be played in, but this was the last one I added, if that tells you anything. The opening of this song is a little jarring, but the piano is so. beautiful. Son Lux has such a way of composing their music that just leaves me breathless and astounded at the feelings music can bring forward in me, and speaking in Dream terms, I feel like that would be the kind of song he really appreciates. I'm not gonna end this with rambling about the complexity of human emotion, because I don't believe tumblr could handle me doing that - operation-wise, i feel like it's abt to stab me as is- It's also not why I'm here lol. "I will break with you. For your body to be freed and pleased. Take the weight of you, for your gravity to be erased." the rest of that line literally mentions a phantom muse.. I think, viewing this in terms of Morpheus' marriage, and maybe even how he thinks about marriage as a concept is interesting. On Genius they mention that on a Son Lux insta story they talked about the first half of the song being about helping a friend die, and the second half about the birth of Ryan Lott's son. Looking at in that framing is also,,, WHEW.. okay this paragraph has been long enough lmao

WELL GEEZE.. looks like I've finally made it to the bottom without tumblr shitting itself again, so I'm gonna wrap this up before it gets the chance to. HAH.

If anyone has bothered to read this far; I cannot thank you enough nor can I tell you how much I appreciate you reading my inane mangling of the English language to be overly emo about music and a spindly nightmare of a man, but REGARDLESS. Thank you, I love you, and I would absolutely take a stab wound for you and make you cookies. 💕🖤💕🖤✨

[pixiemage]

Guys. Guys. 18 pages.

There’s Not a Word Yet is gonna update in the next few days and the next chapter is 18 freaking pages on Google docs.

HOW DO I KEEP DOING THIS

[plutotheplum]

Resonance

sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!

summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3

also posted on ao3!

You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 

A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 

The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  

Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 

A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.

The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.

“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”

He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”

He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 

“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”

Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.

“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.

He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.

A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 

He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.

“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.

Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”

“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”

He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.

“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 

His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”

“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”

You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.

“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.

Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 

“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”

Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.

“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 

His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.

He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 

“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 

He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 

“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”

“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 

“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 

“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.

You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.

He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.

“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.

He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.

You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.

“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.

“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”

He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.

“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”

You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.

There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.

“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.

You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 

“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”

A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.

Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.

“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.

You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.

The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.

“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 

Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.

“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.

He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.

“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”

He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 

Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.

You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 

“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.

“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.

He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”

He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 

“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.

He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.

Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 

“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”

That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 

A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.

“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 

His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”

His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.

“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 

“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 

“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.

The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.

“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”

The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 

A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.

“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”

“I wasn’t imagining-“

“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.

His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.

You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.

“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 

It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 

You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.

“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 

“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”

You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.

“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”

You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.

He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.

“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”

His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.

“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 

“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.

“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.

It’s going to be a long night.

[princessoflalaland]

'HEAD SO GOOD SHE HONOR ROLL!'. ݁₊ ⊹

ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Hiromi and a special guest

synopsis: the jjk men love how much you love having them in your mouth.

'. ݁₊ ⊹content: fem!reader x jjk men, smut, spit play, breath play(choking on that d), oral(m receiving), degradation, voyeurism (implied)

'. ݁₊ ⊹word count: 5.1k

'. ݁₊ ⊹a/n: I have a terrible oral fixation and in dire need to give these wonderful men the best, soul-sucking, toe-curling, God-meeting head they've ever known. and this is how im gonna cope with it :)

Hiromi

"sh-shit, y/n," he hisses, hand burrowing in the locks atop your head. you leer up at him as your hand slips up and down his shaft while your lips work the upper half of his cock. "y'taking me s-so deep, o-oh my God..." your moist lips and hand meet time and time again, spreading your saliva all over him. a groan rumbles from hiromi’s chest, the sound going straight to your already soaked panties.

you bottom him out in your throat, your nose nestled comfortably against his coarse, recently shaved pubes. the scratchy feeling makes the lower part of your gut tingle as you take yourself off him to breathe.

"sorry, romi." you coo lovingly. you're never not working his cock. even during 'breaks' in moments like these, you make sure he has some kind of stimulation. you glance briefly at his gleaming tip, mouth filling with saliva all over again. "y'taste so good. can't get enough..!"

he's back in your mouth, you shamelessly gag on his length. tears brim in your seductive eyes and threaten to spill and ruin your mascara. hiromi watches you hungrily suck him off, like your heart will stop if you don't suck every ounce of cum out of him in the next minute. your head bobs, easily sliding half of his length into your throat before dragging your lips back to his tip. his head leans back, his chair going with it slightly with a creak. "fuuuck, just like that."

hiromi's grip on your hair tightens and you begin to wonder if he wants to take control. you'd love for him to fuck your face, and he'd love that too. to fuck his throbbing dick into that pretty face, ruin your make up and break your already cockdrunk mind even more. but your incessant, vacuum-like felatio has his balls tightening prematurely and his breath shortening.

"crap, y/n, i'm--agh--g-gonna cum." he warns, pressing your head further down, loving the way your throat constricts with your gagging. "gonna let me cum all over that pretty face?" he pants, a salacious glare swirling behind his dark, hooded eyes. "huh, baby? gonna let me cum all over you?"

you nod, somehow, as you bob your head a little faster. your hand grips the sides of his muscular thighs, salty trails of your mascara streaking down your cheeks. you urge him, beg him to release on your face through the sound of your sloppy choking. your slutty noises makes him use your mouth like the fleshlight it is until he feels his cum is spurting out of sensitive tip.

he moans as his core tightens, you yanking this orgasm out of him unapologetically. it takes everything in him to not close his eyes and let the white hot bliss take over. his sweet-sour cum coats your tongue, a worthy reward for relieving this overworked individual of some of his stress. the moans you release send shocks of pleasure straight up hiromi's spine, making his toes curl.

you make good on your wish and let him out of his mouth so he can spary whatever cum he has left all over your pretty, slutty little face. panting like a dog, you revel in how warm his cum is, how it splatters prettily on your visage like abstract art. one of eyes flutters closed as a drop lands right on your eyelid.

"ah, shit!" he swears under his breath. you don't even let him stroke the orgasm out, your hand fervently jerking him off to get as much of his essence out. "fuck, baby, fuck..such a dirty slut aren't you?" a satisfied simper curls his lips as he stares you down. he couldn't be prouder of you, watching his creamy, thick cum paint that gorgeous face. "looking so pretty with my cum all over you..."

and you look as proud of yourself as he does. a soft, grin crinkles your eyes as gaze up at your boss. "thank you, Mr. Higuruma." his cock twitches when you use his professional title.

being his assistant doesn't just stop at bringing him his morning, afternoon, and evening brew, or filing endless reports. no, no, being hiromi higuruma's assistant means all of his needs are met. and if that means getting on your knees in his office at the end of the work day, when the building is sparsely populated with workers, to suck the stress out of him, then so be it.

Geto

movie nights are some of your favorite ways to welcome the weekend with your boyfriend. glutton being your best friend as both of your favorite snacks and drinks crowd the coffee table, a list of films prepped all week to ensure there was never a shortage of entertainment. and let's not forget the blanket that suguru puts in the dryer for ten minutes on high heat for maximum comfort.

all the criterions are met for the perfect movie night, and it's all enhanced when you prance out of the hall wearing those black shorts he loves and an old shirt of his. suguru watches your hips, his eyes making the lazy ascent up to your playful eyes as you saunter over to the sofa.

"what's first on the list?" you ask, plopping down beside him, body flush against his.

"uh," he looks at his phone briefly to check the list he made on his notes app. "it's called Jennifer's Body."

you nod nuzzling and squirming on the cushions until you're comfortable. you angle your head upward at him, a bit of your hair falling softly over your shoulder. "let's get this started then."

you two are barely thirty minutes into the flick before your wandering hands find his dick and cause it to harden under his loose sweats, to which you innocently lowered your head on his lap and found said dick in your mouth. you can only do so much to resist the temptation that is geto suguru's cock, and he would be a complete fool to resist the warm, wet haven that is your skilled mouth.

"fuck, baby. can't even let me watch the movie, huh?" suguru chuckles, hand resting comfortably on your head. "not that I mind though, always make me feel so fuckin' good..."

his words fade on his tongue as you drag your lips down to his cum-filled balls. you've grown addicted to the plushness, the fullness of them in your mouth. you press your tongue to them roughly, coaxing them to give you the deliciousness you know is hidden within. you drag your godsend tongue up his shaft and swallow his cock whole, making his stomach clench, eliciting a wanton groan from him. "shorry, shugu," you say around a mouthful of him, "love your cock shoo much."

suguru’s eyes go out of focus, the pleasure damn near blinding him, as both your hands expertly work his cock and balls in tandem with your mouth. the lewd sucking and gagging sounds along with suguru's deep moans drowns out the movie that you both have long disregarded. your boyfriend's other hand slips over your back to your ass, his rough palm massaging the plush of it. his voice is a husky whisper when he finally collects enough of himself to utter words. "take it deeper, baby..i know you can- ah!" you obey him promptly not letting him finish his sentence. you angle your head, letting his fat tip prod the inside of your cheek. he watches this, feeling the coil in his stomach tighten more. "shit, shit, y/n. so fuckin' nasty..."

"only for you, baby." you've taken your mouth off him with a proud pop, stroking him, spreading your excess spit around him. you look him in the eyes sultrily, eyes zeroing in on his lips. a new desire blossoms in your chest and you realize you really wanna kiss him right now, wanna feel his smooth lips on your wet ones. you want his tongue to caress your own and make you even wetter than you are now.

knowing you for so long comes with the ability to read you like an open book. "make me cum and I'll give you what you want." he promises with a squeeze to your butt, prompting you to lower your head back down to his sheeny dick. you smile sweetly and put all your effort in to making him achieve an orgasm, bobbing your head fervently with a soundtrack of sloppy slurps and gags to get him to cum.

suguru swears and praises you under his breath as the coil tightens impossibly tighter. "don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," his pleas spur you on, making you bring your head all the way down till your nose kisses his pelvis. tracing a vein along his shaft with your tongue, moaning softly is the last push he needs.

his cum spills over your tongue and down your throat, the sweet then sour taste like the most potent drug, making your eyes roll and toes curl. carefully, your lips wrap around his tip so some of his orgasm is caught on your tastebuds. a thin trail of saliva connects you to him as you finally release him. "fuck," suguru breathes, satisfied. "c'mere, love.." he kisses you, his tongue finding your cum-covered one and tasting himself. he sighs deeply, a hand snaking its way to your nape and pulling you closer. when you two part, he gives you a long, searching look, one that seems to be searching for the depths of your heart and what hides in it.

"you're so good to me." he muses, his thumb lazily rubbing your nape. "what did I do to deserve you?" heat floods your system at his sentiment. he has the tendency to become saccharine and raw after intimacy.

you straddle his lap, feeling his dick harden under your weight. "you didn't do anything but love me for me." you relent, cupping his face and kissing him. "and I couldn't ask for anything else."

Toji

you couldn’t wait until after your shift to get his dick down your throat. no, no, you just had to call him out in the middle of the workday, pull him into a dingy alley, and drop to your knees like a common whore.

“this what i do to you, ma?” he rasps as your lips make the lewd descent to his base. “give you dick so good you can’t even go the day without it?” the tip of your nose just barely grazes his rough pubes before your pulling your head back, gasping for air. a string of saliva connecting you to the thing you crave the most in this moment.

“mhm..” you hum distantly. you’re mind is not on anything he’s saying or what’s going on. you don’t care how the pavement bites you through the thin tights you wear, or the passerby just outside the alley. all you care about is dousing the fire in the pit of your stomach that’s been raging since this morning. pumping his cock hurriedly, you suckle on the tip like it’s a casual popsicle.

toji doesn’t like the lack of attention he’s getting, his eyes darkening and lips curling downward. normally, you’re equally infatuated with his dick and him, like they’re two separate beings. cooing to him how much you love his cock, praising it, while worshipping said cock with that godsend mouth of yours.

but right now, it seems your attention is solely on his cock, which doesn't fly over well with your fuckbuddy. instead of gently cupping the back your head like he’s been doing, he seizes a harsh fistful of your locks and bottoms out into your throat. a gasp-like moan is stifled by his length from the sudden intrusion, your eyes widening and tears burning the backs of them. he holds you there, groaning lowly at the way your throat convulses as you gag.

“stupid bitch..” he mutters, he holds you there for a few seconds before sliding himself out your wet cavern to keep you from passing out. you don't even think to tap his leg to signal that it's too much, his cock being the only thing on that dirty ol' mind. "think you too good to answer me or somethin?" your mouth lolls open, your gaze seeing past his.

toji slaps his dick on the side of your face, eyebrows pinched together in what could either be annoyance or confusion. "you cockdrunk already?" all he gets in response is a lazy nod.

the only time you come to your senses is when you fervently try to reunite your tongue with his dick. you sloppily bob your head on him, lewd squelching and sucking sounds bouncing off the alley's dirty walls.

it's rather rare for you to get so cockdrunk you can't even respond to him, so he decides to use this to his advantage.

“you want my cum, pretty? that why you actin like you can’t talk?” toji mutters through clenched teeth. he can barely contain the sounds rumbling in his chest from how good you’re being to him. his eyes flicker to the alley’s entrance, seeing the multitude of people passing you two by obliviously.

his scar twitches as the beginnings of a smirk form on his face. what he wouldn’t give for someone to make a wrong turn for whatever reason and catch you, on your knees giving him the sloppiest head. he brings his attention back to you, watching as his dick slides in and out of your throat with ease.

“s’good a fuckin whore, makin me feel so good..” your fuckbuddy’s words almost collide into each other with how good your mouth feels. his eyes nearly disappear into his skull when he bottoms again, reveling in the constriction of your throat as you gag. he wants to test your limits, see how long you can keep him in that pretty little throat if yours. "you want my cum, so fuckin work for it," he growls.

tears chase each other down your cheeks, leaving dark messy trails of mascara. saliva coats the lower half of your face and some parts of your cheeks. your eyes, a little red with your lashes glittering with tears. a complete and utter slutty mess, thats what you are in this moment. but toji thinks you’ve never looked prettier. a hint of adoration worms its way into his condescending gaze as you loll your tongue out at him as though you are asking for something.

“what? feelin nastier than usual?” he asks, collecting spit onto his tongue to deposit onto your waiting one. he gives you a generous amount, letting it slide off his tongue down to your open mouth in a long, silky trail. you pant like a bitch in heat as you wait for the saliva to land in your mouth, eyes wide with orgastic anticipation.

mixing his saliva with your own, you continue to blow him and let him fuck your face. toji feels his balls tighten as his orgasm approaches. "'agh, fuck, y/n. 'm gettin close.." he doesn’t try to keep quiet anymore than you do, the erotic duet the two of you make reverberating off the alley and back into your ears.

“want me to cum on yer face, slut? paint that pretty face with my cum?” he moans, using your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight to reach his climax. you feign a nod through his harsh thrusts.

“shit, ‘m gonna cum, baby. gonna cum all over you...” that’s his final warning before he yanks his dick out of your mouth and releases onto you. your eyes stay glued on him as his thick, potent cum spurts onto your face and into your mouth.

“take it, take it, take it…” he hisses through his teeth. this orgasm of his fierce and he can’t tell if it’s from the grade A head you just gave him, or because of how much of a whore you were and how that turned him on like nothing else. “that’s a good girl,” he sighs once he’s done, twitching a little as you kitten lick his tip for more.

wiping a dollop of his cum from your cheek and sucking it off your finger, you gaze up at him. “thanks, toji.” you’ve come back to your senses, so you stand up and pull a compact mirror from your back pocket. you smirk at your reflection, admiring the milky globs he so graciously left on your face. you won’t admit it, but you love when he defiles you like this, leaves his mark on you so no one ever forgets who gets you to act like this. and you won’t ever need to admit it to him because he already knows, knows you’re his and always will be. 

Nanami

you love your husband, and with that love comes with helping him destress the second he comes through the door to your home. you greet him in a way any wife would: take his coat and hang it for him, asking him how his day was, give him a kiss, which turns into two, then three, then find yourself on your knees undoing his zipper and freeing his aching cock.

"lemme help you, honey. you always work so hard..." you purr, your warm breath traveling over his length and sending shivers up his spine. "God," he breathes, hazel eyes fluttering. "how can I resist when you look at me like that?"

with a simper, you wrap your plush lips around his tip, drinking the precum pooling there. your eyes become heavy-lidded as the flavor of it traverses over your tastebuds. humming your satisfaction, you let in more of his cock. the girth of it stretches out your mouth, forces you to widen your jaw until it aches. the pain is good though; it's worth it if it means you can get more of your husband's dick down your throat.

nanami tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you, lust vibrating beneath his skin, making him feverish. his breath comes out harshly through his nose as you leer up at him. he'll never get over the polarity with you. outside, you're a respectable young woman, one he is proud to call his wife. you're articulate and kind, you never fail to make his heart swell with affection and pride.

but within the walls of your shared home, you become something else. a minx, a nymph, a siren. you make him ache for you in ways he never has for any woman, bring him pleasure like no one else. you worship him and let him have his way with you. and honestly, there's nothing more he could ask for after another grueling day at work.

"oh, my love..that's so good." your husband moans deeply through labored breaths. "yes, baby, just like that. take me nice and deep."

your tongue presses firmly to the underside of his dick after it has traced every vein on it. you don't even need your hands, having more control with just your mouth than some have with both their hands. he can't tear his eyes away from yours, it's like he's entranced. you've reeled him in and there's no going back.

slow, steady bobbing of your head leaves your spouse breathless. he holds both sides of your head, fighting demons not to buck into your warm, wet, perfect mouth. the subtle gagging sounds you make nearly makes him snap. "such a good wife, treating me s-so nicely.." he praises. "ah, fuck, y'always so good to me..so fuckin good." hearing the usually decorous nanami curse is music to your ears.

nanami can feel his legs weakening, the pleasure that pulses through him with every beat of his heart becoming too much. your throat is so well trained, it takes all his inches with ease. your jaw is achingly numb from being widened for so long. you let your head make small, almost imperceptible circles as you speed up, angling your occasionally so his tip pokes your inner cheek, eliciting a sharp gasp from him.

"ah, y/n," he chuckles, surprised at how slutty yet modest you can be. not a single drop of saliva has escaped your mouth since you've started. "gonna make me cum. p-please, keep going, 'm so close."

with each bob of your head, you get closer to the base, your eyes breaking contact with his to glance at the golden pubes that come just out of reach of your nose.

"yes, yes, yes." nanami's voice raises in pitch for a split second, indicating that you're doing a stellar job. soft moans from you vibrate through him, making him jerk slightly. his fingers dig into your hair his eyes struggling to stay open as ecstasy threatens to shut his brain down entirely.

your husband's jaw drops as he feels himself going right over the edge, careening into the pits of what's going to be an amazing orgasm. when you're sure he can't take anymore, you let your lips kiss his base, snatching his orgasm right from him.

nanami can't stop the pathetic noises he makes as his cum pours done your throat. your throat feels heavenly, constricting and relaxing the way your pussy would. he convulses slightly, a sweet mix of whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips.

"baby- baby, please I can't-" he can barely beg you properly. his hips involuntarily buck further into your mouth as his orgasm reaches its end, his tip jabbing at the back of your throat mercilessly.

you drag your lips slowly back to his tip, watching him darkly as he twitches. you release him with a pop and finally use your hand to gently stroke him.

"c'mon, kento," you say softly as you rise to your feet, still maintaining a gentle hold on him. "lemme help you unwind a little more, you've earned it."

and with that, he falls in love with you all over again.

Gojo

"i've always wanted to try this with you, baby. a-always wanted to see what it'd be like..." your boyfriend has not shut up since you so kindly hung your head off the side of the bed and asked him to fuck your face. his heavy, breathy words heat the room along with the wild lust dancing behind his sky blue eyes. if only you could see that look on his face, the sultry adoration contorting his features.

"takin it so good, pretty. my pretty fuckin whore..." gojo's hands carefully cradles your head and neck. your own hand has busied itself with lazily rubbing your pussy, slick oozing down to your ass and the sheets. the sounds coming from you send ripples of pleasure through gojo's system making him just a bit louder. this angle allows him the view of a lifetime. he can see the bulge his length forms in your small throat, the sight of it making his mind even hazier.

his thrusts stagger and he pulls out to let you breathe. you gulp down fresh air, saliva trailing down onto your cheeks and making its way slowly toward your lower eyelids. gojo strokes himself as you recover, panting with flushed cheeks.

"you're so sexy like this, my sexy little slut." his voice is dripping with sultry adoration and honesty. he truly believes you're a gift from above because who else, other than an angel, would let them be defiled like this for him? he rubs his tip across your puckered lips, smearing precum and spit all over them. "aw God, y-you're gorgeous, angel, y'know that?" his praises continue to tumble out of his mouth as your boyfriend eases his way back into your waiting jaws. "so perfect, perfect f'me."

your fingers pick up the pace along with the speed of his thrusts. primal moans and whimpers, wet slurps and gags, the subtle squelching of your sopping pussy are the only noises in the room. you bring your hand up and pinch your nipple, yanking a gargled moan out of yourself. your essences leaks generously onto the sheets as his tip continues to tease your uvula and reduce your already weak gag reflex.

gojo's shameless whimpers and breathy approval makes you want to do more to please him, so you abandon your nipple, reach out and fondle his heavy balls. "agh, Christ, y/n!" he shouts, moans chasing the words, "tryna make me cum, huh? don't wanna cum too quick, wanna make th-this last.." your soft hands squeeze his breeder balls, coaxing them to give you everything he has to offer. your significant other begs you to ease up, to not tease him so much. you chuckle, the vibration making his mind go blank long enough for you to let your fingers wander to his perineum.

gojo's jaw goes slack as he throws his head back, sloppily thrusting his cum straight into your throat. the pressure in his lower abdomen released without him even realizing and now he can't seem to stop his hips as your delicate fingers massage the space between his ass and scrotum. there's so much cum, too much for your mouth to hold and your throat to take in. some dribbles down the sides of your mouth, over the spit trails on your cheeks and too close to your eye. as his cum slides down your throat, your hips buck upward as you climax onto your fingers. when he pulls out, he strokes the rest of his release out onto your neck and chest, shaking and gasping.

gojo hasn't really opened up about trying certain things, especially butt stuff, but the way he yelped and his usually perfect thrusts stuttered when he came is indication enough that maybe now he will be.

Totusmoto

you've been waiting for this moment, waiting since you first laid eyes on your neighbor. his lumbering figure drifting in and out of the run down apartment complex never failed to trigger something carnal in you. and things only got worse when you'd hear his gravelly, desperate moans through the walls. you couldn't care less for the woman who tried to harmonize with him with her own sounds, all that mattered was listening to him.

so, when your sink suddenly decided to act up, calling the landlord for a repairman was not the first thing that came to mind. you'd run into totsumoto yuushi at the apartment mailbox, both of you silently rifling through envelopes. as soon as the opportunity presented itself, you seized it. you struck up a simple conversation, something about the sweltering heat that summer rolled in. he looked at you with a bored expression at first, wondering why anyone who wasn’t someone he owed money was paying him any mind. but the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know: behind that polite gaze was a caged, carnal beast that wanted him.

it was then he knew you were definitely worth getting to know. over time, you two became well acquainted. chatting nonstop at the laundromat, while you two retrieved the mail, and just anywhere you two happened to be. everything was falling into place, just like you wanted. one day, you casually asked him if he knew anything about plumbing. having been a maintenance man for one of his many jobs, he told you yes. and yuushi had an inclination there was much more to this inquiry of yours than his expertise regarding pipes.

so now, on another sweltering afternoon after your neighbor so graciously fixed your faulty sink pipes, you're paying him back for his kindness by swallowing his dick whole.

"h-holy shit- you're really g-good." your neighbor's gravelly voice only darkens the wet patch already staining your panties. one hand you pumps the parts of yuushi's cock that you're out of practice throat can't quite reach. your eyebrows pinch together slightly as you watch him ogle you. you're lost in those dark eyes of his, not wanting to be anywhere else other than under his carnal stare.

"mhm, take it. take it like the good girl you are..." he's much sweeter than you anticipated, but from what you've heard through the walls, it doesn't come to much of a surprise. yuushi gently places his hand on your head, guiding you down his shaft. "that's it, you can take more of me, more of this fuckin cock."

the need to please yuushi, to show him you're better than whoever gets the honor of being fucked silly by him every night, becomes more important than the need for air. so, just to prove how badly you need him, you take in more of his thick inches, your eyes forcing themselves shut so you can focus on controlling your gags. yuushi groans, gripping the counter behind him with his free hand fiercely. the spasms of your throat are heavenly. "just like that, fuck. yes, baby, yes." even if he tries, he can't stifle the pathetic sounds you force out of him.

you reel back, a thin spit trail connecting you to him. you gasp, which dissolves into heavy panting. you're eyes are completely clouded over, a look that tells yuushi: i'm your whore, so treat me like one.

"c'mon love, back in your mouth." he orders breathily when he thinks you've had a long enough breather. "wanna feel your mouth again, c'mon, please.."

your hand and mouth work double time, thick globs of saliva hitting the tile of your kitchen as your gargle on his dick. yuushi senses his climax chasing him down from the telltale tightness in him stomach. the impending orgasm causes him to lose himself just a bit, and he bucks up into your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head. "fuck, angel." he pants, his brain fogging over with the white bliss that's building like a tsunami coming to shore. "just a bit more, 'm almost there, almost... fuck!"

he grabs the sides of your head and brings your lips flush against his base. his cum floods your mouth, letting you briefly taste its warm saltiness, before traveling down your esophagus. the white of your eyes are all he can see, or would see if his head wasn't thrown back from the immense pleasure. when he's done, he slowly withdraws his gleaming cock from your jaws, trying and failing to catch his breath.

he looks down at you with the utmost fondness, so much so, your heart flutters like a lovestruck teen's. yuushi truly can't believe his luck. sure, sex with the spirit haunting his room may be some of the best sex he's ever had, but you, you're something else. maybe it's how tangible you are, how he can see you whenever. maybe it's because now he's unabashedly curious of what else you have in store. maybe it's because he knows being with a ghost may never amount to being with a living, breathing woman. whatever the case may be, he knows it's going to be borderline impossible for him to stay away from you now.

[elixrr]

He trusts you. Over the course of your friendship, he built an unforgettable bond with you, one that was meant to last forever– and, really, it could've. It should've, he's not gullible, nor is he naive. He hardly trusts anybody, so you're a rare case— perhaps you're his final and lucky case where he can have somebody else sit with him, shoulder to shoulder, and no mask would have to be up. You're his best friend; you're his lover. You're the shoulder he can lean on, sleep on, lay on, cry on, and that's something that he hasn't had for several years.

Towards the start of your friendship, he didn't exactly see you as a friend, you were more of an acquaintance than anything. You were almost set to be treated by him the same way that he'd treat anybody else. He kept you at arms length, he kept his distance for a while.

Yet, you began to close that distance. You began to slither past his arm, growing closer to him. You were willing, and that's absolutely why you both should've been a lifetime bond.

But now you're being rushed to the emergency room— a head injury, something severe. You're unconscious, terribly injured from the fall, but you're lucky to be alive. He's lucky to have you alive, but now he waits. He waits, waits, and waits for his only trust, his only other shoulder, his only love, and he hopes that you can wake up soon.

You eventually and successfully did. You were in a coma for about a week, but you've finally opened your eyes. You're awake— you're alive! By the Archons and Aeons, that's all that matters to him.

“W– Where am I?” You mutter, eyes finally fluttering with consciousness. Typical question, probably always asked. He watches the doctors explain everything to you.

He watches your eyes as they flicker from one person to the next. One doctor, another, the last one— then to him. A smile nearly graces his face, but your eyes are taken back to begin the cycle again. That doctor to the next, then to that one doctor, then on him, and rinse and repeat. You glance at him as he stares at you, and it's as if he was just one extra person in the room, just one other doctor— out of uniform, though. As if you were saved by him, too, under his care, but your glances are as distant as they are for the other doctors.

Your gaze is unrecognizable. His is the same as ever.

“Who are... You guys?” You ask. ‘Who are you?’ is and would've been fine as long as you looked at somebody that wasn't him, but he's not gullible; he's not naive, and that's the thing. He immediately realizes that you don't recognize him.

He says your name without thinking.

“Do you...” He hesitates, but pursues. “Do you remember me?”

“No, sorry? Have we met before?” The words are fluent, so you didn't hesitate—

—so you don't remember him.

“Amnesia?” One of the doctors mutters, and that's when he realizes that it's all over for him.

He doesn't have another shoulder. He doesn't have a best friend. He doesn't have a lover.

He doesn't have you anymore.

He looks at you, and you look at him. Your eyes are finally fixed onto each other, but you're so distant, so far away from him now. You're both in the same room, but an unavoidable and terrifying distance is built between you two.

“What's your name, then?” You still ask.

The distance shortens. Are you still willing?

“You seem... really upset that I can't remember you. Maybe if you tell me your name, I can remember you?”

Are you really still willing?

He says his name.

“That's a nice name. Sorry, I can't remember, but I'll try.”

“You're willing?” He blurts.

“Of course.” You half-smile.

A sad grin grows on his face. He still loves you— he can feel it deep down inside. You don't remember him. You probably don't even remember any of those special memories you two created that had made the both of you the duo you were, but a smile still adorns his face regardless. You're alive.

And you're still willing.

And, because of that, your bond could last a lifetime.

[iplayghoul]

let the light in

xx: cowboys! eren & onyankopon x reader . .

9.9k words — life on a ranch, porn with plot, tension, feelings, eventual sex, fucking in.. mud & rain, reader is referred to as 'she', 'girlie' etc, use of 'daddy', lots of spit & being dirty, reader is a country bumpkin, light arguing, thumb in ass, pussy spanking, spitroasting, cunnilingus, crying, some squirting & creaming, lots of shortened words & punctuation (country dialect duhh), not proof read sorry, awkward moments.

notes: been writin dis since december 2023... enjoy u guys :] rbgs appreciated

“hiya mrs. brown!”

worn out boots of marble cake pink and brown swirls, graze the dirtied gravel near the elderly woman's cottage as you slip from the horse. mary-lou, you affectionately call her, dusting her pinked moist nose with a pat before hobbling onto the stone path. over the horizon, the pastel orange and yellows of the sun threaten to melt into your skin, kissing it golden as the morning begins and so do your deliveries. 

golden-blonde, french curl braids woven into your roots fall past your lower back ending in thick, loose curls, some held together by bows and others hair clips. they bounced with every step. mrs. brown was the first on your list of deliveries today. on cool mornings like this when spring teases its approach, you often bake little treats for the other villagers. apple tarts, blueberry jellies, cherry pies with freshly picked fruits, warm buttery honey-milk breads and healthy breakfast muffins: all made with ingredients grown at home! but, we'll explore the garden later.

calling this a village was a bit of a stretch, realistically, a happy delusion at most. acres of farm property was shared by each of the residents whose homes were nearby, despite the farm areas creating distances of land behind them. tok, tok, tok! the haste below mary-lou's hooves pulled you back to your task as you rearranged the goodies and stepped onto the wooden plank. mrs. brown sat atop her rocking chair, crocheting a blanket you'd commissioned. a chuckle, “ [  ] , dearest, always in y’head, aren't yuh?” mrs. brown softly muttered, deep brown skin crumpled besides her lips, short pastel curls tickling her ears. hands busied with the neapolitan coloured yarn. her countryside twang was a pleasant aerated tone, reminding you of your own parents. 

you huff and offer a smile. “mrs. brown I've—”, “must I remind you, dearest, eleonora,” the playfulness in her voice offers it a quiver. “and let me guess . . . cherry pie?” thin, quivering lips stretch to a smile, your plump ones mimic hers as you nod with a sweetened expression. “yes, eleonora, I know how much y’love cherry pies n’–”, “and my grandson does too, y'know!” you stop to stare at her as she wears nothing but a smug look on her face, her head bobbing side to side with a ‘you know damn well’ manner. 

eleonora lived mostly alone. when her daughter married, giving her a sole grandson they'd moved to the city. luckily for her, and you, her grandson moved back on his own to the country. he fixed cars, motorcycles, tractors– you name it, he's got it covered. she said his name was onyankopon or, ony’. to be honest, you spied around one time to catch a glimpse of him. back when you first moved in and eleonora became immediately smitten with the idea of you and her grandson as potential lovers, you snuck around where ony's ranch was, peaking at who the man could be. you barely saw him really, the small flash of him you saw all greasy with engine oil was so far away! but infatuation always grew in you from a small bud, slowly growing before flower petals started spilling out your throat.

“are ya’ stoppin by him too, darlin’?” she pries further, “I ‘dunno els’ . . . y'know I haven't actually met ‘em right?”, “oh I know dear,'' she breathes, “ he's strong, he's tall, he surely is handy ‘round the house and- and he's not ‘onna dem toxic masculine things i hear ‘bout on the Internet! I think he's had a boyfrien’ b'fore, that must count!” she relieves your hands of the heavy treats while speaking, “eleonora . . .”, “c'mon darlin’, you've got t'get married someday, n’ imma’ be the flower gal!” 

all you can do is shake your head and accept the sweet kiss to the cheek she offers you before trotting back to your horse. mary-lou grew rather impatient! settling her brown and white spotted body to the ground awaiting your return. to be completely honest, you craved love. the partying, sex and relationships of college got old and moving here right after left you high and dry with the weight of ‘unlovable’ bearing down on your shoulders. the lack of men your age was . . . a troublesome dilemma but who were you to complain? you hiked yourself back onto mary-lou and continued your journey to the next cottage home. 

looking over the blueberry skies and whipped cream clouds kept you in grandiose delusions of a love so pure and sweet, like powdered sugar that you could indulge in, maybe one day.

♡

“down girl, down!” 

The rough, deep voice shakes the silence near the upcoming ranch. after your deliveries, you'd end up with a few apple-cherry tarts remaining, sometimes the neighbours are vacationing in the city, or insist you keep some! by this time, the sun shone fully now, its warmth tingling your skin. “awe, shucks, man!” another voice caused your brows to furrow, peering up ahead at the ranch . . . the one in which eleonora's grandson resided. from what you could see without the sun in your eyes, two men of tall statures– roughhousing with gorgeous horses. the one in the cowboy's hat was doing a terrible job of trying to calm one of them. their manes were a beautiful silky white, shining healthily under the sun as they lifted their front legs to the air before trotting around the . . . shirtless men again. mother would scold you now if she could see you openly ogling at the two, you push that thought to the back of your mind.

mary-lou slows on your command beside their ranch gate, huffing and happily shaking out her mane as she watches the other horses play. something possesses you to hop off with the remaining tarts, awkwardly shuffling to the fence– your pink-brown boots were worn mismatched to your strapless white lace top and similar mini-skirt. “uh . . . howdy there fellas!” both men turned to your direction, blocking their eyes from the sun and beginning to stroll over.

the closer view made your breath catch in your throat. the one on the left, you assume is el's grandson, his skin was a dark mahogany brown, he glistened slightly with sweat in the sun, deeply defined muscles prelude veins below his belly button then covered by bright blue jeans and black cowboy boots to match his hat.

he had a handsome face. 

thick two-toned lips spread to reveal a bright smile, a few teeth plated with gold caps as he teased the man to his right. this man had dark, black, shining curls that rested atop his shoulders, two eyebrow slits decorated with piercings, matching ones on his . . . pretty lips. his skin was a dusted tan, sunkissed tone and he wore black jeans atop his brown boots. You couldn't miss the tattoos that crept up the side of his abdominals, you were curious.

“how c'n we help ya’, miss?” the left spoke up and your cheeks felt hot, it's been a while since you heard that pet name, you chalked it up to the blazing sun. “well, uh, you're eleonora's grandson, right?” you nibble on your nails nervously, he nods, “I just . . . thought it’d be nice to give y'all these extra treats i baked.” pushing the basket in their direction and allowing the dark haired one to peep under the cloth, he had a mischievous look to him and he elbowed the other in the ribs with a slick smile, “wass ya’ name, pretty? ‘m eren, dis is ony’,” he pointed between them, “ n’ y’made these y’self, ma’?” eren pulls out a tart, staring down at you through long eyelashes, “oh! uh I‘m [  ], n’ yes! I did n' I grew all'em fruits m'self too!” you bounce on the heels of your boots, nervously.

ony’ stays mostly quiet you've noticed, taking in your outfit as well, his eyes raking over you. eren warmly feeds him a bite of the tart as their horses trot over to mingle with mary-lou. “how long ya’ been livin’ ‘round here, sugar?” ony’ speaks up soft and mellow, grabbing himself his own tart to taste. eren reaches out to pet mary-lou. “i guess it’s been a about a year now! y’see i moved out ‘round here after college.” you nibbled your shiney bottom lip, “what ‘bout y’all? your grandma talks ‘bout you all the time, but, i ain’t really seen you round here?” you turn to eren who makes a kissy face at mary-lou before turning to you. “i mostly tend to the farm ma’, as y’can tell, ‘m better with the animals than ony’ here.” he flashes you a smile and props his arms against the fence biting his lip and lowering closer to your eye level. ony’ playfully smacks his arm, flashing a gorgeous smile with his gold teeth sparkling in the sun, “shut up, man.”

you look away quickly, catching yourself staring at his lips, he certainly doesn't miss it. you totally push the basket towards eren’s arms, “y’c’n have the basket y’know i always weave more, i’ve gotta get goin, now,” you rush, “wait– take m’ number, pretty,” eren offers before reciting it a couple times so you’ve got it down. “n’ which onna’ these ranches ‘s yours, mama?”, you're mounting mary-lou once more, “it's not too far! it's the ranch with the blue fence n’ the pond out front!” 

♡

the days after that remained uneventful, with no deliveries of any kind, you preferred to remain on the ranch tending to the animals and house work. you'd never texted eren, only saved his number and stalked his contact profile . . . and opened his chat section many-a-times without saying anything. taking a liking to someone new is hard. you don't forget the many times a partner toyed with you, assuming innocence and naivity of you based soley off your appearance, then doing whatever they'd wanted behind your back. you were past that now, hopefully at least; the concrete walls you used to block others out wasn't something you'd liked to be reminded of.

padding out the back door, the coldness of the stone path chills beneath your bare feet. your toes painted with the cutest design within your artistic range, accompanied by the musical arrangement of your anklet. you pick up a dirtied bucket with the many things you'd needed to complete your chores for the morning, taking a long look at the expanse of the ranch. 

a deep breath of clean air, healthy green fields relieve your eyes of their stress; partly cloudy skies was the forecast! weather for hanging outside, the cumulus clouds indicated it to be the perfect day for fishing too! the pond was still, the little lambs were just waking up in their pen, the gardenias were blooming; the white dexter cattle mulled around, seemingly bored behind the fence. just as you begin to walk by with the bucket of feed, the cows behind let out soft, deep ‘mooooo’s’: a ‘good morning!’ greeting in their own way. each receiving gentle pets to their fur.

your mental list of duties was shorter today: pet the cattle, inspect the lambs & brush their fur, throw feed for the chickens & clean their coupes, feed the dogs, feed the fish.

you couldn't help but wear your best little dress to do the tasks today, a simple white thing that cupped your breasts just right. “oh, how are ya’ buttercup!” you squealed in delight as the silky white wolf dog rushed up to lick your feet, his opposite onyx counterpart, bentley offered a short bark to show her delight, sitting peacefully and obediently. she'd recently fallen pregnant with pups, confusing as you'd given both animals the proper precautionary procedures! while filling their food bowls, you couldn't help but be reminded of eren and ony’. your toes dug into the grass a bit, excited at the idea of . . . sharing your home with someone else again. both men seemed pleasant, highly attractive, but feelings always confused you. perhaps they were only being decent human beings to you, nothing more.

to be honest, you hadn't had the best history with relationships. it's part of– it's one of the main reasons you'd decided to move out to the countryside. casual sex was fine, yeah, whatever, you enjoyed it. however, when it comes to your relationships, you refuse to believe you attract shitty people. from making fun of how excited your are by things, to the way you dressed, wore your makeup, your hair, how you cry— the whole works had been used against you. there was only so much of it you could handle. moving away meant . . . fresh start, new people, new experiences. and most importantly, a place where everyone did as they pleased. as much as people think gossip goes around in small villages, the country area was mostly pleasant. neighbours traded crops for items, enjoyed each other's company and minded their own business.

sitting beside the pond, bentley and buttercup eagerly cuddled up at your side; the joy this life brought you was comparable to hot chocolate at the end of a winter day. now you think about how long its been since you could cuddle someone on a cold day. it probably hasn't been since your mother was alive. now was a good time to visit eleonora.

♡

a raspberry lemon loaf warmed your hands as the weather began to cool. the trudge to eleonora's ranch was tranquil, pleasant animals, butterflies and chirping birds kept you occupied for most of it. that is, until your boots dragged to a stop in the dirt, noticing a familiar face in el's front yard. 

onyankopon's hair was short, brushed into smooth waves atop his head and faded on the sides, revealed by the lack of cowboy hat. he was shirtless, once again, knee deep in the dirt of his grandmother's yard where he dug the soil for new plants. you swallow, nibbling a plump lip that made your mouth spring from the strawberry flavoured gloss. a colder breeze blew up under your thighs, blowing your simple little dress slightly; furrowing your brows with concern as you peered at the beautiful bright sky, you force yourself to walk up to the gate and begin to unlatch it. 

eren's grassy green eyes meet you first, his hands busily feeding a plump cherry into his mouth. pretty pink lips sucked them in, unwelcoming to the juicy red droplets that escaped the cherry. he licks his lips to pull them in. you take a deep breath and focus on not dropping the raspberry lemon loaf. “h-hiya everybody!” you greet, noticing eleonora seated in her usual spot on the rocking chair of her porch while observing the two men. 

you hold the loaf somewhat close to you and swallow hard, walking along the stone path of which both men were at either side of. ony’ in the dirt and eren manspreading on the front steps. you held eyes with the ground. “howdy ony’, eren, nice to see you two ‘gain,” you say in a pleasant mumble as you make way up the stairs to eleonora. “brought you this raspberry lemon loaf els’!” you look at her smiling slightly, caught off guard by that signature smug look she held. what insane thoughts about your love life could she be brewing now? the silence from the two men was noticeable too, you were sure they'd turn to look at you as you presented the treat for el’, “my, my! well doesn't this just look lovely!” she claps clammy hands clad in flower themed rings and laughs jolly. “ony’, son, could you get us some tissues n’ forks? oh- n’ eren darlin’ why don't you bring out the pitcher ‘f lemonade with s'm glasses.” the two men stand as she calls upon them, uttering out their deep ‘yes ma'am's’ as they towered above you in walking by. your eyes trailed them slightly before turning back to eleonora who never (not once) misses your silent pining.

ony’ wore his jeans low on his waist, the band of his boxers showed off its maker's name. eren, on the other hand, wore a white wife-beater below unbuckled blue overalls, leaving them hanging over at his waist. “so, have ya’ found y'self a boyfren’, honey?” eleanora asks somewhat loudly as the two men shuffle around the kitchen bearby and your eye widen. “now what kinda’ question is that els’?” you sputtered, “you know I haven't got one.” eleonora giggles like a school girl. you take a cool seat onto the steps. eren and ony’ share small smiles as they return with lemonade and dishes. ony’ takes a seat in a chair opposite eleonora, elevated above you whilst eren makes himself comfortable back in his spot across from you on the steps. raspberry lemon loaf is shared around with the cool glasses of not-too-sweet lemonade to wash it down, eating brought silence besides low groans from the two men who seemed to enjoy your baking. their groans were not sensual, but pressing your thighs together was still a must as a reaction to the unexpected sounds of pleasure. fuck, you felt like a creep. eleonora complimented your skills, asking, “[  ] , did ya’ grow these in the box gardens y'made?” you nod and swallow quickly, all attention to you as eren mumbles ‘box garden?'. ``yea els’, the box gardens ar’ doin’ great, but I've got some extra wood around I think I'mma try to make a few more like the boxes I bought from the market!” eleonora smiles as if she were expecting to hear you randomly bring up your recycling duties. 

“ony’, can't you n’ eren build those boxes f’[  ]? I strongly believe lil’ ol’ her shouldn't handle all dat’ wood . . .” you internally blush deeply at the innuendo and take the final bite of your slice of the loaf. eren speaks up, “y'sure right on we can, els’ . . . y'okay wit’ us helpin’ y'out ma?” he takes a quick glance up at ony, locking eyes with him who also lets his stare above you burn into your scalp. “s– sure, I don't mind!” you mutter out lightly and eleonora gives a jolly clap, “well ain't that just darlin’! the day's young, y'all can get started right now!” you have to hold your breath to avoid your last sip of lemonade going down your larynx. the two men mentioned how they're not busy the rest of the day and wouldn't mind before you can even collect yourself. somehow, coming over to eleonora always results in you being roped into another scheme of hers.

and just like that, you found yourself on a quiet . . . and awkward walk back to your ranch with the two young men following closely behind you. anxiety bubbled in your stomach, clamping your lips shut to avoid letting the insecure feeling from escaping your lips. the nerves were getting to you with every second that passed by. “s-so, uh– wassup wit y'all ‘round here?” they both walk up to match your pace. “oh, well, ony here prefers to do all the technical shit like– fixin’ cars n’ all'at.” eren shoves his palms into the pockets of his overalls, walking up ahead where he could look back at the two of you while talking, he maintains glances with onyankopon that you just don't seem to understand. “I prefer to stay on the ranch n’ watch the animals– y'got any besides that horsie?” 

“oh– yea i've got m’ horse, mary-lou, two wolfies: bentley n’ buttercup.” a sweet smile stretches on your face, tummy warming a bit. “oh! and I've got names f'all my fish in the pond, my little lambs– oh they're just the cutest! a–and my fluffy cows! they're lovely,” you clasp your hands in excitement, eyes following your footsteps, sputtering happily over the animals. “gosh, n’ I'm tryin’ out a little butterfly area in my front garden, but m’ not the best at it, can’t tame butterflies y’know— they pee on ya’ too! that's fuckin’ crazy,” you reveal with a giggle. as you look up to ask the two a question, you can't help but blush, embarrassingly at that. eren and ony stared at you with pleasant smiles, deeply dimpled too. “oh my, m’ sorry for my ramblin’ how rude of me–”,”no. no, keep talkin’ pretty.” ony's deep voice encourages you and you peer curiously at him: trying to figure him out. he turns away from you licking his lips and spares eren a look before he starts walking again. it urges you both to continue onto the ranch as well, eren shakes his head with a chuckle; he thinks he’s got a handful on his hands. 

“y’got a boyfren’ ‘round here, [  ] ?” eren brushes hair over his shoulders, asking the question calmly whilst maintaining a look up the path, ony’s arm brushed yours as he walked close by. “well– no, what about you?” you melt your lips together before stuttering out,”wait, not– i mean, girlfriend . . . well– i don’t care–!” ony barks out a laugh while eren turns around to give you a bright smile, all three of you burst into giggles. “nah, no girlfren’ or boyfren’, ma’.” ony speaks up gently, “but, uh– me n’ E’ might be lookin’ for a third to make us official, i dunno.” your eyes widen but ony gives a nonchalant shrug, handsome face glowing with a smug smile like he didn't just drop #thebomb on you. it reminded you of his grandmother, you look to eren who’s looking back at you and onyankopon with just a slight grin and your breath catches in your throat. “oh! there’s the ranch just up ahead,” you blurt out and skip past eren, scurrying over to unlatch the gate to your front garden as the two followed you in.

now your heart felt like it could melt. like– like a huge strawberry ready to burst! what did ony’ mean by that?  oh, how you felt like a dizzy little dove. luckily the dogs rushed up to you, excitable and ready to meet the new visitors who they eagerly sniffed. ony’ and eren were happy to roughhouse on sight laughing with the dogs and complimenting the patch of primula's you were trying to grow, the pretty pinki-ish flowers were just beautiful. you lead them through your home, overly conscious about each step you took while they surely eyed every nook and cranny of your decor. “um- y'guys need anything? I've got some snacks . . .”, “nah, we're good,” eren mumbled, sounding obviously distracted by their nosey observations of your living space. you hear the tone of your dryer going off just as you unlatch the netted back door that served as another layer next to the already opened wooden one. 

“holy shit,” ony’ whispered, your organization of the backyard was impeccable. clean and solid fencing around the cows, plants on the left with storage on the other. you left the two to walk out into the cold breeze that passed by as they observe the surroundings and the pile of wood waiting for them; all while you quickly rushed to the laundry room nearby to dislodge your clothing and stuff them into a basket. you hurry back out to join them.

“so, here's one of the other boxes i made,” you gesture to the dirty box filled with planted Spanish thyme, “i know it looks kinda wonky but, hopefully you guys can do better,” you offer an awkward laugh and sit on the back steps, legs crossed. 

eren and onyankopon share a look, then grab some planks bringing them more into your line of view with some of the tools nearby and sitting in the grass. even in your own home, you felt a little out of place. in silence, eren and ony’ shared alot of chemistry you didn't understand. despite this, what ony’ said on the way here never left your mind. “y'guys got alot ‘f experience . . . relationship-wise?” you scratch behind your ear. they worked separately lining up wood and nailing them into place, muscles working diligently. “mm, yea. ‘guess y'can say that ma',” eren glances at ony who hums low and offers you a small smile.

“it's jus’ that– ‘m thinkin’ ‘bout watchu said earlier . . .” you blink, fumbling, “unless that was like a joke ‘r somethin’—”

“i wasn't joking.” onyankopon confirms calmly, his jaw tight. you allow the silence to continue for a few beats, eyes flickering back and forth between the two and your hands petting the dogs that came to lay beside you. “we don't expect ya’ to jus’ trust us like that, missy,” eren offers gently, shoving his curls into a small bun and you nibble your bottom lip. 

ony's brows furrow and he's hammering the last few nails into his box before he speaks up. “how c'n we get to know you ma’? me n’ E’ been . . . chillin’ for over a year. since college, actually, n’ we been watchin’ y'too. w’dont expect you to feel the way we do in 10 minutes or even in a day. let us get t'know you.” you squint a little.

“y'serious?” your chest feels a little hot and you're praying to the gods you don't fuck this up. “c's i don't intend on gettin played wit’ ‘specially not out here, y’hear me?” and you don't mean to raise your voice a little, the sounds just flow out. “hey, hey now,” eren pushes his finished work aside and stands, tugging his overalls up, hands resting on his hips. “we don't got no bad intentions, sugar, chill wit’ us,” and you blink up at him, unmoved.

“m'kay, let's just say i decided to ‘chill’ wit’ y'guys,” you stand up, fold your arms and start, “what exactly are we g'nna do, hm?” you look back and forth between them, not missing the way your buttercup whines on the steps where she lay, evidently fed up with all the chatter. “y'got 3 seconds n’ don't say sex. one,” 

“who said anythin’ ‘bout sex?” ony’ joins you two as he puts the tools down, “two,” “yea, y'better shut that shit up. let's bake sumn together, show us around y'day, hang wit’ us at our ranch, talk about shit. fuck y’mean sex?” you stubbornly stay silent and stare. eren’s jaw bone pokes out with the way he clenches it. “we're not lookin’ for sex. if we wanted sex from you we coulda seduced you a long time ago, sugar,” he shrugs with a smile and you lick your lips, sighing. “okay, ‘m sorry. I’–I'm such a bad host,” you mutter out, “y'all want anything to eat? or some water.” you hear a low ‘okay’ from ony’ so you shuffle away to the kitchen to grab some bottles for them.

you tried to focus on the coldness of the bottles on the way back as a way to cool your temperament. “i moved out here wit’ intention ‘f startin’ fresh n’ shit.” you start, tossing them bottles before plopping yourself beside buttercup who nuzzled her cold nose into your thigh. the two men were sitting once again, evidently having spoken to each other in your absence.

your voice was shaky as you took a deep breath, garnering the courage to speak up for how you felt, “i'm tired of gettin’ dogged out, n’ played wit’ n’ allat bullshit.” you pout.

“‘m not exactly sure how gettin’ involved wit’ two handsom’ fellas is gonna help me figure out to– to i dunno, regulate m’ emotions.” you frown and shove some braids back behind your ear, “s’ like i damn near avoided it– i moved back t’the country damnit.” a sigh, “i cant just figure out how to adore n’ love– people again or if i'mma be able t'dish it out as much as before.”

“you get what i mean?” your ramble ceased as you finally look up from your focus on your knees and look back and forth between ony and eren. ony chuckles softly while eren offers you a smile and speaks up.

“we'll take it slow, you'n gotta ‘love’ anybody yet, mama,” ony nods at his words, “gotta build a friendship wit'chu first, we not playin’ ‘round.” 

♡

a week or so passes in which life goes by as normal. you spend your days busying yourself with gardening and grooming your animals, baking treats and new concoctions. the only exception is eren and onyankopon have somehow easily squeezed themselves into your life.

on your deliveries you hear, “howdy, ma',” they chase across their lawn and hop across the fence to drag you inside and sit you down in the warm house where the two eagerly pester you to try the . . . ‘shrimp alfredo’ they whipped up. 

thus, the two would end up in your kitchen, breathing over your hair whilst you instructed them on the proper technique. “naw, i don’ told E to do all'at,” onyankopon protests. so too do they pester mary-lou and your dogs, roughhousing and giving them baths much to their dismay.

through many experiences you learn, onyankopon isn't particularly fond of being tickled, or of wearing shirts. he stays shirtless almost all twenty-four hours of the day and you can only avert your eyes. eren is obsessed with overalls and has an array of them: gray ones, distressed ones, short ones, and he never buckles them properly.. on the ranch, the two gorgeous white haired horses were named armin and reiner, two friends they shared from college. sparkling like diamonds as you're given the opportunity to ride them each around the boys’ ranch in the golden sun. you'd also learned that the two were sexually . . . fluid, they'd called it. vaguely, they'd mentioned their sex lives and based on what they said you couldn't help but assume they were talking about each other. who else was there out here except you?

“yeeehaw! can't catch up, can'ya’?” eren howls and shouts as he trots across the ranch on his horse, ony lagging behind in the chase. here you sat on a wooden little bench near the steps of ony' and eren's ranch; clad in a simple white cropped tank and blue jeans with a chunky belt, your cream coloured cowboy hat sit pretty atop your head. a pretty calico cat licked at your bare feet and nudged you for pets. 

at this point, you felt yourself slipping. it was obvious by now you'd grown to enjoy each other's company and serious conversations were imminent.

what were we, how will the dynamics work, what would they expect from you? just then you felt a tap to your forehead.

“heya, girlie,” eren squats down before you to grab your attention, “watchu, thinkin’ ‘bout,” ony’ mumbled, toying with a toothpick between his teeth. 

you smack glossy lips together, “jus’. . . ‘bout us three y'know? how- like, where do we go fr'm here huh?” your eyes flutter, cheeks warming. you feel the silence actually, eren and ony’ are doing that stupid thing where they talk to each other with their eyes. 

butterflies flap their wings about, joyous as ever. it makes you smile a little, as you're beginning to grow nervous. “let's talk inside ma’,” onyankopon suggests, stepping past you into the house where eren follows. 

“me n’ ‘ren c'n take care ‘f each other n’ you, know that?” 

you all shuffle onto the dark gray couch in the living space. ony’ and eren's ranch had a deep modern aesthetic. dark oak accents adorned both the outside and inside, complimented by gray and brown shades of furniture. 

“i know that . . . ,” you pout, 

“so wassup,” eren stares you down, the emerald swirl of his eyes warmed your belly yet you couldn't maintain eye contact with him for long, eren just had that kind of stare without realizing it himself.

“‘m g'nna be frank, ion wanna impose on nothin’ y'folks got . . . n’ my past relationships ain't been the best.” you huff and continue, “‘m jus’ puttin’ that out there. i feel like we've been talkin’ for a while n' I'm fond of y'all.” 

“i jus’ don't wanna be the one to mess things up,” you finish in a whisper. 

onyankopon hums low and eren plays with his lip ring, “n’ das’ all, girlie?” he asks and pursed his lips, dimple deepening at that. you give a nod and a small ‘yup’ while intertwining your hands onto your knees that were pressed together. “y’ talk to us, we talk to you, got that? if it's an issue y'got: don't hesitate to let us know,” ony’ iterates.

eren makes a noise of agreement, “y’communicate everythin’ wit us, sugar, we're serious,” and you nod slowly. “‘kay . . . i get that,” your eyes feel a little wet with emotion, ones you're not too sure of yourself.

you were happy to hear them affirming their commitment yet still anxious for the future. regardless, you couldn't help but lurch forward, you grab the back of eren's neck to press a sweet strawberry jelly flavoured kiss to his cheek, leaving a baby pink glossy print on his cheek along with a loud ‘mwah’ as you smiled. similarly, you crawl over his lap to do the same to ony’ who only bit back a grin, gold capped teeth glistening in the light much like the glossed smudge on his face.

♡

inevitably came the days you'd call the ‘honeymoon’ phase in a relationship, except it lasted what felt like forever.

these days you preferred to be cuddled up in your bedroom, legs being warmed by a black, gray and white blanket you were committed to crocheting. with a couple dark, gloomy days where the usual creamy clouds frowned down on you, the animals often retreated to their pens and little beds of hay to seek warmed from stormy weather. buttercup and bently invaded each others personal space in their dog beds down at the living room, you smile a little at the thought.

“yeen gotta be like that, ony’,” you hear eren groan in a mischievous pout as the two men exit your bathroom smelling of your bath soap. onyankopon mumbles something of ‘’s a stupid idea’. you giggle under your breath, hands hard at work weaving and looping the thick yarn for the blanket. 

“ [  ] , watchu’ think, sugar?” eren plops himself onto the bed, “hm?” still fixated on your progress, ony’ huffs from his seat on the ottoman, lotioning his chest and arms then turning back to rub some excess onto eren's foot. “i told ony’, let's take the horses f’ a ride, ma’, he talkin’ bout ‘oh it's rainy’, i think it'll be chill,” he smiles big and winks expecting something of an applause for his great idea of fun.

“ion mind whateva’ y'guys wanna do, jus’ once we shower ‘gain after, ‘fore we get sick,” you shake your head at the thought. ony’ smacks his teeth, “c'mon, don't support him.” 

“what, playin’ in the rain is fun, baby!” you chuckle, eren simply props his head on his palm, enthralled by your meticulous work. regardless, he nods mindlessly in agreement at the discussion.

just like that, cowboy hats and boots were thrown on and you head down to the stables to round up the horses. ony’ and eren raced each other down to them before you could even get a word in. the thought reminded you of buttercup and bently who currently settled and slept with one's head atop the other.

the fresh rain smell hits your nostrils quickly, smelling of the humidity off the grass and pitch of the street. you could audibly hear the wind bristling about the bushes as it cooled your skin. all you wore was a thin white tank top, jeans along with your classic pink-brown boots to match your hat. eren and ony’ warmed up the horses, encouraging mary-lou to shake out her mane and trot a little. onyankopon was seated by reiner, rubbing at his legs to warm him a bit and doing the same to armin. of course, you stare unabashedly, his muscles (unclothed) bulged with each motion, waistline visible amid his jeans.

you stare so much so, that you don't even notice eren come up to your side to press a wet kiss to your neck, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives your ear a kiss too, “starin’ at my man, girlie?” he laughs boyishly and you swat him, “dat’s m’ man too, freak,” he gasps falsely at the insult and you speed off to grab the harness for mary-lou; ony’ pretends he didn't hear the bickering and mounts his horse.

“s’ not rainin’ all too much now, see?” eren comments, scooping his hair back into a low bun under his hat. the three of you clicked and clocked through the damp grass and onto the street, letting the drizzle of rain moisten your skin with each speckle. you gnaw at your bottom lip, lost in thought as you trail behind the two men. at the same time, another cold gust would brush past you three, drying your skin again. yet, as you flinch when a particularly large droplet mands on your cheek, the rain picks up again and you smile.

sometimes moments like these felt so good, connecting with nature and taking in the beauty of the weather. it didn't stop you from being distracted, eren's white wife-beater was getting soaked. the tattoos creeping up his side peaked through the material and stared right back at you. you bitr back a groan and cover your warming face with your palms, wiping it clean of rain, while eren and onyankopon fall back on their horses. the peaceful silence with nothing but the ‘tock’ of the horses’  hooves kept your mind wandering. 

now drenched, you could only imagine peeling off these clothes, a strap of your flimsy little tank top blew off your shoulder, and you felt the material sticking to the bulge of your breasts nestled in your black bra that now stood out ten times as much. god, you felt like a fuckin’ pervert. you couldn't even bring yourself to look down at your own chest, feeling scandalized enough. something about thinking of yourself in . . . near erotic situations such as this made your clit thump like a sweet little rabbit's nose.

nonetheless, you ignore it and allow the rocking atop mary-lou as she walks to distract you. onyankopon rides his horse nearer to yours and eren does the same, you gasp under your breath when ony’ nudges you. “wassup,” he murmured, “nothin’ ‘m jus’ distracted.” you comment plainly and eren huffs out a laugh beside you. 

all you do is stare down at mary-lou and pet her mane, the pulse between your legs pushed to the back of your mind. “y'so bad at lyin’, know that?” eren laughs, you blush and groan, “no ‘m not, shut up,” 

“chill, chill,” ony’ whispers, in his stupid, sexy, amazing, deep voice and you let out a big shuddering breath. as you're riding you feel ony's wet bicep brushing against yours. this had to be the end of you.

ony’ reaches an arm behind you, stretching to meanly pinch eren's shoulder. you're not sure what that meant but you didn't care to know. “where we ridin’ to?” you ask, rubbing glossy lips together. “mm, let's jus’ head to me n’ ony's ranch,” 

“kay,” you settle with that, sweet n’ soft.

“wanna race, jaeger?” ony’ slips in lowly, pulling ahead and looking back at you two with his. . . stupid handsome smile, “h- hey now, let's not–” and you're interrupted by shouts, “let's go!” eren pulls off.

you groan softly, hiking up mary-lou’s harness a bit as you begin to gallop behind the two men. the raindrops stung against your skin and you whined trying to catch up to the two and your breaths harsh. with each hard breath you let out you couldn't help but let it bubble up into laughter, you just felt so good. 

you felt giddy, blinking away raindrops that attacked at your eyes and racing past the two men, who yelled and called out to you, “yo, ma’ we gon' catch up,” ony's cowboy hat flies back behind his head, held up by the string beneath his string as he pulls the white horse forward chasing after you.

the three of you speed past grunge fencings and rosey bushes all bowing their heads now from the deluge. your tank top was completely soaked, and you imagine so was eren's when you pulled in the gates of their ranch and headed around back where you could free mary-lou to run around in the fenced horse enclosure.

you sit on the ground and linger near the side of the house by some plants, boots kicking about scattered hay and picking up sticky mud. eren and ony’ pull in the same time, wet chests heaving and eyeing you as they quickly hop off and lead their horses to the enclosure. “you win, watchu want?” eren huffs out, swinging his hat off and tossing it to the side, letting the rain seep into his curls. “hm?” you moan while rain kisses you, “i get a prize?” 

he nods and slumping down against the wall next to you and propping his arm on a plant. you take the time to stare at his pecs . . . light brown nipples peaking through at you. eren catches you staring, it forces you to look away quick and brush a wet braid out of your face just as ony’ arrives.

“yall chillin’?” 

“yea . . . mama's chillin’ alright,” eren smiles up at ony who lays in the grass beside you. “she baskin’ in her– win,” eren laments, reaching forward to tickle you and you bark out laughter lurching at him. his fingers pet your ribcage and you grab eren's shoulders, “what the– fuck! eren!” you squeal and wrangle with him. ony’ sits in the wet dirt beside you guys with his hands resting behind his head, basking in the rain and ignoring the shoves and pushes nudging him.

“i swear t’ god ‘ren, you– ack!” eren flips you on your back and you land hard with your head on ony's thigh while he wrangles your hands above your head. digging your feet in the ground for leverage couldn't help with the mud slipping beneath you. onyankopon only hums in amusement, watching you stop struggling beneath eren, your chests bouncing with gasps of air.

“you . . . y'know that's not fair, eren,” “i know what's not fair, sugar?” he stares you down, grip on your wrists tight with his chest pressing against yours. the swell of your breasts popped out of your tank top, glistening and sticky when it touched his skin. “mmm, you want somethin’?” he sucks his lip rings into his mouth teasing you, eyes wide and glossed over, throat drying. you lick your lips and slip from his grasp, sitting up and leaning your back onto ony's chest. just as you make that decision you swallow hard feeling his wet chest through your thin top. you wipe some wetness off your forehead evidently applying some mud that was on your arm to the spot.

you catch your breath, rubbing dirtied arms onto your shirt to clean them as best you could. you felt filthy but god, your fat little cunt ached laying in the dirt. 

“onyan'” you call out to the man behind you with your eyes trained on eren who simply sits back smiling impishly at you, “yea, sugar?” 

“wan’ m’ prize,” it comes out in a whine.

“yeah? ‘n what's that gon’ be,” he murmurs low in your ear, eren still hears him. you let out a ‘hmph!’ deep in your throat. then, you drag dirty hands against your tank top before peeling it off you and above your head, tossing it into some grass elsewhere.

crawling on your knees, ass arching in ony's direction, you gesture to eren with a finger, “come here, c'mon,” and you grab the back of his neck, kissing up his sweaty wet throat licking and sucking up anything your mouth touched. you press your lips to eren's, cold wet metal between you two when you let his tongue into your mouth, sucking it up when your lips lock hot.

eren groans into your mouth, hand gripping at your ass concealed by your jeans and he falls back into the mud. you reveled in the slick sound of your lips separating from each other, tuning out how soaked your jeans were getting in the rain. the ambient pelting sound on the rooftops only edged you on further, sitting in eren's lap.

“fuck, you're nasty,” eren mumbles against your lips when you pull away for a second, fingers toggling with the buttons on his jeans. he resists a big smile, elbows resting in the muddied dirt to hold himself up while you roughly tug his jeans down a bit. just enough room for you to reach his dick.

“see how she treatin’ me, ony'?” eren wipes rain off his nose, locking heavy-lidded eyes with onyankopon then down at you, “she roughin’ me up ‘cause she won,” he grumbles and you pull his cock out.

eren flinches when his dick is exposed to the rain, tan-brown tip oozing pre mixed with droplets. your knees dug into the mud beneath you, ass arching up. you stare shamelessly at eren's dick, letting the saliva build up about your tongue while you press a few kisses to the tip. his breath shudders above you, leaning his head back for the rain to fall on his face. “c'mon, pretty, do watchu want,” you grip him tight, feeling like your palm could memorize the girth and veins that popped out. then, tugging him up slightly, you slot your mouth in the gap between the bottom of his dick to his balls. sucking on the skin, you let you built up salivation drip down his balls, slurping the heavy sack onto your tongue.

you suck eren's balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around mounds and his mouth drops open revealing his tongue ring. he grins, giving you a loud shameless groan, he was certainly showing off for ony’ who sit behind you watching. “suck it like dat, yea,” eren mumbles to you, licking the rainwater off his lips. he lets you have your way a bit more, focused on your features: the way the rain made your eyelashes clump together, the droplets sliding down your nose, to the spitty goop around your mouth all over his balls.

“c'mon, c'mon,” he pulls your mouth off him with a hand gripping the base of your hair, licking the splittle off your chin then kissing it into your mouth and swallowing your whines. “y' fuckin’ nasty, jaeger,” onyankopon mutters lowly behind you and eren bites back a smile. “filthy ass, take that shit off,” you up off your knees, flopping back on your ass where you fiddle with the buttons on your jeans. 

your cheeks burned, both eren and ony's eyes grilled into you and everywhere you touched got streaks of mud in it after having your hands dig into the sopping ground. on your arms, your boobs, eren's shirt. slowly, you shucked your jeans down, slipping them past your ankles along with your boots. your panties were stuck up your ass when you sit in some wet patches of dirty hay, tossing the jeans aside realizing you wore significantly less than the other two men with rain beating all over you.

eren and ony’ share a look then eren's the first to lurch forward gripping your legs with his muddied hands, pushing you back to lay in the dirt and kissing about the clear parts of your belly. he nips at the swell of your breasts in your bra, sucking and kissing wherever he saw fit. “er– eren,” he's prying your legs apart, pushing them ‘till your knees were besides your ears. “eren, stop–,” then he's plucking your panties out your ass and sliding them up your thighs, he stretches the thin little things beyond repair to sling them off your ankles. “what the fuck,” you whisper, eren's fucking unreachable n’ you're both staring at your fat puffy cunt. he takes a second to look to the side at ony’ before returning his attention to your pussy, sprinkles of water sliding down, yet the blubber of slick collected between your lips was noticeable.

the pretty thing was so fat your hardened clit could barely peak through. eren dips his tongue deep, digging at your hole then dragging his tongue through your folds illiciting a low gasp. the cold metal bar in his tongue nudged at your clit. he curled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, giving it a few flicks before spitting and licking another strop up your cunt. “feels– fuckin’ good, eren, oh,” you whimper, his gentle motions paired with the ambient beating of rain against your skin had you on a high. he shakes his head side in your cunt, arousal making sticky strings beside his cheeks as his nose nudges the fat of your pussy. “holy shit,” you press your head into the soft ground beneath you, eyelids fluttering shut when eren suckles softly on your clit. you hum and moan, licking your lips and feeling your head spin, “‘ren . . . oh my god,” he slurps noisily suctioning his mouth over your pussy, sucking hard over and over and over again relishing in the throb of your clit against his tongue.

“he knows, baby,” ony’ murmurs and your mouth drops open with a loud moan, his voice just did something for you. you felt the muscles in your legs twitch, itching to close them with each swipe of eren's tongue and swirling pleasure in your tummy. your hands dig into the dirt behind you, legs quivering.

“tastes fuckin’ good don't it?” he's mumbling and eren's groans into your pussy sends shockwaves against your clit, he nods vigorously. “ohh– shit,” you sit up on your elbows digging in the mud, hair soaked and heavy and your legs only spread wider; your eyes trained on eren's tongue making sloppy circles around the fat mound in your pussy.

eager, you slip your hands into eren's wet curls, stuffing his face into your cunt, “eren, eren– yea-ah!” his groans rumble in his throat and here came the fucking waterworks. your climax comes hard along with several slick kisses to your clit, beads of sweat and rain slipping down between a furrowed brow and a guttural moan ripping from your throat.

eren's mouth releases its latch onto you, your legs flopping into puddles of dirt beneath you. “prepped her f'you,” eren licks his lips and looks to onyankopon who sits there with a fat bulge beneath his jeans although unbuttoned.

“mm yeah?,” you both shuffle over to the wet patch of hay ony’ sat in, slightly less soaked albeit equally as muddy.

onyankopon gestures to eren with two fingers as he lifts himself up, brushing water from his face and allowing eren to take a seat against the wall. your eyes flicker between them, sitting with your butt resting on the heels of your feet feeling exposed. it doesn't help that eren reaches behind you to unhook your bra, your cheeks feel hot. nevertheless, you slip them off your arms.

onyankopon shucks down his jeans just below his ass,  “ [  ], come right here,” walking on your knees you shuffle forward to ony’ who puts a hand above the swell of your ass, pressing his bare chest to yours. ony's gaze is something serious, he bends his neck and clasps his lips to yours. it's slow, methodical and hot. onyankopon breathes deep and groans into your mouth. your body goes limp a little: drooping in his grasp and relaxing against his body as his tongue gently guided yours against his own. “mhm, okay . . . okay,” he presses a few kisses to your lips with a squeeze around your throat as he weans you off his mouth.

“turn ‘round,”

you whine, “w'nna look at'chu,” 

ony's unmoved, he swallows, “look at ‘ren, baby,” and he guides you as you turn in the slippery mud to arch your ass up to him, his palm glides down the small of your back deepening that arch while your head rests on your folded arms before you. the position makes it hard for you to focus properly on eren, you peep at him through your eyelashes.

your cunt is sticky, swollen lips bound together by the white film of your arousal after the orgasm eren gave you, and you feel ony's hands kneading your ass. he spreads them, watching your pussy lightly spread open with it. you hear his belt buckle jingle slightly as his hands continue to massage your back right along with the downpour. ony’ grips his cock in his hands, tugging the thick thing lightly a couple times. he catches eren staring as he pumps it harshly before pressing the fat tip against you. 

“fuuuck,” ony’ slaps his cockhead at your entrance letting it get coated by your arousal before slipping the first inch in slowly and already you're speechless. “holy– shit,” your cunt stretched to accommodate the girth and ony’ grips the curve of your back for leverage, letting out a guttural groan while slowly inching into you. 

he sits in it for a moment, allowing you just a moment to familiarize yourself with the fat pipe he just lay in you; then, he's pulling out slowly and pushing in again and you whine. “what the fuck,” you feel ony’ lean his weight over you, and you gasp as he starts smacking his hips to your ass.

paired with the wetness of the rain, his hips leave a stinging slap against you and you're faltering with your tits mushed against the mud. eren left your pussy sloppy, your cunt whipping up loads of cream slick around ony's cock and your mouth is just ajar. jaw tightening with shallow, whiny moans cascading past your lips, ‘ah's and ‘oh's are all the men hear. “mm, ony’,” you try to murmur, body giving way fully to the mud beneath and ony's grip on your tightens,”watchu’ want, hm',” he grumbles.

oh how he knows nothing of the way your clit throbs everytime his heavy balls slap against your cunt.

“wan'— wan’ it deeper, please,” and you gasp hard when ony’s hand comes up to your ass, digging his thumb into the curled rim of your butt before bringing a foot to the ground for leverage; his ankle beside your ear, you eagerly grab onto it. “got fuckin’ good manners, don't she?” he grunts out, and the other man nods. 

onyankopon gives you two warning strokes, pressing his cock to the hilt and curling his thumb inside your ass and you feel overwhelmed. then, you gasp in a loud sob  as ony’ starts drilling his cock deeper into you, his hips smack you hard and his weight presses you everytime he drives his cock in. “fuck, fuck–,” you're squealing, hands draw digs into the mud as you can't help but writhe against the mud. “feel good?” you all but whine in response, “feel fuckin' good?” “ye- yes!” you mewl out. ony’s muscles contract and you can see it in his leg, intent on keeping you from sliding away from him under the soaked muddy slop.

the noises are . . . obscene. pornographic bursts of air shooting out amidst the stirring up of your melting cunt and your cheeks burn with embarrassment along with fresh tears streaming but you're breathless. “so fuckin’ loud,” ony’ mumurs,  his lips curling into a smile when he hears the noises you make.

“m’– fuck, m’ sorry,” you weep and your walls squeeze ony’ tight. you feel a glob of slick collect at the tippy top of your cunt, the fat bulge of your clit and stickily drip down onto the ground with each rock of your bodies. “takin’ m'shit fuckin’ good, sugar,” onyankopon drawls low and you sob.

you hear him whistle above you and with  a quickness eren's pants come into view. he sits, legs spread with his groin in line with your face against the ground. he scoots forward enough so he can lift your head and replace the mud beneath your nose with the musk of his balls. “‘ren, ‘ren, ren,” you're chanting, itching for your orgasm approaching with each quick and sloppy drag of cock in you. “m” right here, girlie,” ony's pummeling you from behind and your drooly mouth now has eren's pretty tanned cock slapping against it. “holy– fuck, hng- shit,” you mutter out before you're latching your lips onto eren's tip, inviting him into your mouth. he controls it, gripping your braids and rocking your head onto his dick.

“c'mon, c'mon, takin’ that shit s'fuckin’ good,” eren praises when he starts to snap his hips into your mouth, matching ony's strokes. he strokes your soaked hair gently, juxtaposing the nasty aggression each rock of his hips brought. you gagged, muffled, globs of spit streaking down your chin as you relaxed your throat for eren's dick. in the same way, you're making a mess on ony's cock, coating his length in hot creamy release that trickled down your own cunt. “she's fuckin’ creamin' on it, E',” and you moan when eren laughs cruelly above you, “cream on y’fuckin’ cock, ma’,” he grunts.

each drag of cock against the ridges of your cunt, the slosh of your mouth had you moaning in a frenzy. “was’ ya’ problem, huh?” eren groans out, and onyankopon knows exactly what your problem is.

“mama's bout to fuckin’ nut, huh?” he can feel the extra squeeze around his cock and rolls his neck to let some rain coat his face and distract him from his own ache. they listen to how you squeal around eren's cock, hands grabbing at his jeans and ony’ pumps his thumb into your ass consistency. 

“mmm, fuck,” onyankopon hums, angling himself so the curve of his cock digs at you just right, and he smiles: satisfied when you start to squirm and fuss beneath him. eren pulls you off and you sob, coughing a little to clear your larynx. you whimper as eren all but ruts against your face. “keep her right fuckin’ there,” ony’ groans and you grasp onto eren's jeans, cunt twitching with each movement yet eren forces your shoulders back to keep your body where ony’ wants you: daggering his cock into you with a forcefull quickness that eren's rutting mimics. 

“ohmygod, oh!” you blubber out, chanting ‘shit, shit, shit's

“gon’ leave you fuckin’ gapin’, quit playin’,” and you weep.

your hips twitch and you feel the knot in your stomach stiffening, “wan’ you're cum, want y'all's c–cum, fuckkk,” wail into eren's skin and take his cock back into your mouth just as your cunt spurts and your ears feel clogged from the rush of blood to your abdomen. “take it, take it, take that cum, baby,” eren groans. you felt light-headed, stars twinkling at you around the edges of your vision as your eyes rolled and soon you were forced to blink away the brain fog to swallow the thick loads eren gushes into your mouth. 

he whines, unabashedly and onyankopon gives you a couple more strokes before his cock is digging into you to bury his surge of cum into you with a hiss.

eren falls back, letting you catch your breath and stroking rain away from your face. ony’ pulls out quick before you start to get sore, giving your cunt a few wet slaps before eren's pulling your limp aching body onto him to give you some relief. “gotchu’, gotchu’.” he consoles.

“c'mon, E,” ony’ rushes, “huh?”

“gotta’ get out the fuckin’ rain,” he puffs out a laugh before he's lifting you off eren. they both try not to slip in the mud, hurrying off into the ranch for long hot showers.

[murdockparker]

Of the Same Mind

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A mutual distaste in a certain author—should he even have the grace to be called that—leads to an unexpected meeting.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol, pregnancy, fluff, time skip

A/N: a cute lil request! made me actually read a little Byron myself to get the gist! and it wasn't that terrible I'm so sorry to disappoint

Dull. 

Everything was dull. What was supposed to be the social event of the season was shortened due to poor weather—an outdoors event of sorts, it seemed, Benedict really didn’t pay his mother much attention when she explained the whole ordeal. Thus, half of the ton was crammed into Lord Whitehill’s home instead of his luscious grounds, all due to the pouring rain. Most conversation was boring, most of the ladies were whining about the rain, the men whining about their whining wives and daughters. 

At least the drinks were good. 

“…seriously think that fodder is worth your breath?”

Benedict’s ears perked up, focusing on a conversation that was decidedly not about the current weather. A breath of fresh air. 

“I-I did not mean to insult you, miss,” a young gentleman sputtered, his face rosy red. “I only meant to indulge you in poetry of the highest regard—” 

“If that was your intention, you would have chosen from a finer list of poets. Byron?” The lady nearly laughed out loud. “Byron is the bottom of the barrel, as it were, so your intention was ill-placed.”

“Byron is a well-regarded poet—”

“By who? Chamber pots?” 

Benedict nearly spat out his drink. The action alone brought the attention of the arguing couple to him—both sets of eyes trained on the tall Bridgerton at once. “Oh,” he fake coughed, “it seems the drink went down the wrong way, please, forgive me.”

The man—who Benedict now recognized as Lord Whitehill’s son—scoffed. “Bridgerton. You are well versed in the arts, are you not?”

Benedict nodded. “I dabble.”

“Would you please explain to Miss (Y/L/N) that Byron is a novel poet,” Mr. Whitehill asked, “and that she should be flattered I recited poetry for her, regardless of the poet?”

Miss (Y/L/N). So that was the lady’s name. 

“But that would be lying, Whitehill,” Benedict gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “And I am ever a gentleman, raised to never lie, especially to a fine lady such as Miss (Y/L/N).”

She smiled at that. 

“You do not agree?”

“Oh I certainly agree with Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict said quickly, setting his glass down. “Byron is a mockery to the art—meaningless words and jaunty titles, why, I tried to read his latest and it put me right to sleep.”

“I fear I had the same reaction,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, turning to Benedict in earnest. “Right before I decided to throw it to the flames.”

They both laughed.

“Imbeciles, the both of you,” Mr. Whitehill said, pushing past the newly acquainted pair. “Keep insulting me like that and I’ll have my father throw the both of you out into the storm.”

“Mr. Whitehill,” Miss (Y/L/N) said softly, her eyes melting into puddles of apology. “I fear we were not insulting you, but rather your taste in poets. I also fear there is a stark difference in that, for if I were to insult you, I’d make a more fitting jab, more educated in that regard.”

The shorter gentleman stormed off, steam nearly pouring from his ears. Benedict laughed.

“I must say, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict leaned down. “You have quite the sharp tongue.”

“I am known to be rather well spoken,” she beamed, standing a little straighter. “Perhaps it is my taste in literature?”

“For that, I believe we are in agreement,” Benedict said, grabbing a fresh glass from the table beside him. “May I offer the lady a beverage?”

“Only if you decide to share whatever’s in that pocket of yours,” she pointed to his chest. Benedict’s ears went pink. “Do not think I did not see you pour an added flavoring into the lemonade—it seems impolite that you would neglect to share.”

“It would be impolite,” Benedict said, carefully pulling his flask out of his coat. “I am surprised you saw that, though, given the crowded room.”

“You are a tall man, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said, taking the glass from his hand. Benedict poured a healthy amount of clear liquor into her cup before adding the rest to his own. “I would have found it hard to ignore you.”

“Your first season? I presume?”

“Technically,” she said, looking up into his blue eyes. “My family, we just moved to Mayfair. My father came into some money and relocated us here this year, my brother is set to study at Eton in the fall.”

“And you?”

“I am now expected to marry a rich and eligible bachelor,” she laughed into her glass. “Which I really have no problem doing, save for the fact that gentleman is nothing like Mr. Whitehill.”

“Mr. Whitehill is rather rich,” Benedict smirked. “Would that not placate you?”

“And listen to him dribble about Byron? Perish that thought,” she said. “When I do marry, I expect my husband to be of the same mind, a similar taste in the arts.”

“You know,” Benedict nearly whispered, “that is an admirable thought. But how will you find this man?”

She looked him up and down, quickly and all at once, returning to drink from her glass.

“I suppose I will know when I find him,” she smirked.

Benedict smiled back. “Well, please let me know when you do, I feel rather invested in your prospects.”

“You will be the first to know, I assure you,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, nodding her head. “But, if I may be so bold, if you are not currently preoccupied, would you care to further our discussion on Byron? It is hard to find someone who agrees with such a… contrasting opinion of the poet.”

“Why, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict finished his glass, offering his arm, “I was afraid you’d never ask.”

—

The gardens on the property were lovely, so lush and full of life. She made good on her promise to keep them well maintained, only keeping the finest blooms and plants in their care. It was always the perfect place to spend time on days like today, sunny, a gentle breeze. 

They had given the governess a day off, her mother had fallen ill, it was the least the Bridgertons could do for her.

“Mother!” 

The lady looked up from her book, eyes meeting with her eldest daughter. Blue eyes, just like her father.

“Yes, darling?”

“Might I go inside to grab other books? Aunt Eloise recently sent some to Father and I want to read them.”

The lady gave her daughter a trying look. “Do you not think they may be above your comprehension level, my love? They were intended for your father, after all.”

“No need,” a looming voice bellowed. “I have them right here.” 

She didn’t need to look up to know who it belonged to. “Benedict, I thought you were spending time in the studio this afternoon.”

“And miss spending time with my darling wife and children?” Benedict grinned, the crooked way she fell in love with. “That seems foolish on my part.”

“Father!” Their eldest exclaimed, running over to the tallest Bridgerton. “You brought the books?”

“Indeed,” Benedict nodded, handing the parcel off to his daughter. “Aunt Eloise thought we may have better use of these than her and Phillip do.”

Their daughter lit up with excitement—ever the reader, she was. It took a village to keep their library stocked with appropriate books for her age, but she was quickly out-reading her entire family’s collection. “Thank you, Father!”

“Well,” Benedict said modestly, “you must write to your Aunt Eloise and thank her, I had little to do with such a gift.”

“What about me, papa?” 

Their son, only a few years younger than their daughter came bounding up past his escaping sister, clearly having been playing in the mud. “Do I have any gifts from auntie?”

(Y/N) opened her arms. “Not this time, sweetheart, but come here, let mama wipe that dirt off of your nose—” 

“No!” He exclaimed, turning from his mother. “Dirt makes me ruggable—like Uncle Colin!”

“Rugged,” Benedict corrected gently. “And, no, dirt makes you dirty. You need to stop spending so much time with Colin…”

“Once baby brother is here I will,” their son nodded, putting both hands on his hips, looking down at his sitting mother.

“Oh darling,” (Y/N) said, trying to raise to her feet. Benedict quickly offered his hands, pulling her up. “Baby will not be here for a few more months.”

“Then more time with Uncle Colin!”

Benedict and (Y/N) sighed, watching their adventurous son run back to the mud. “We must write Colin, tell him of the monster he has created.”

“Our eldest is such an easygoing flower,” Benedict said, noting how she was carefully skimming through the various books on her lap. “Our son tests our patience.”

“And how do you think this one will be?” (Y/N) asked, placing his hand on her swelling stomach. She only had two or so more months until the delivery, if she had been correct on the conception. The latest Bridgerton wedding seemed to be the culprit, stolen kisses and a romantic rendezvous to the greenhouse away from the party—it was a perfect recipe for baby number three. “Calm and collected? Devilish and adventurous?”

“I pray they are just like their mother,” Benedict rubbed her belly affectionately. “And perhaps a bit more behaved than their brother… I suppose I should also write my mother an apology.”

“Whatever for?”

“I reckon my brothers and I acted much like our son,” Benedict said sheepishly. “Acting like Bridgerton boys, I am afraid.”

“As if that is the only explanation,” she giggled, leaning into his side. “But I am sure your mother would appreciate such a gesture. Perhaps you should send her a bouquet from our garden, too?”

“An excellent idea, my love,” Benedict said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “What a brilliant mind you have.”

“Father, Mother!” Their daughter called out, waving them towards her. “Aunt Eloise sent a book by an author I have never heard of before.”

“Oh?” Benedict quirked his brow, walking with his wife over to her. “And what author may that be?”

“A Lord Byron,” she said, showing the book with a deep brown cover to her parents. Benedict scooped the tome quickly from his daughter’s grasp, holding it close to his chest.

“And you shall never read such filth,” Benedict said seriously.

“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) laughed. “Perhaps we should allow our daughter to expand her mind—come to her own conclusions on the matter? Surely Aunt Eloise meant the gift in kind.”

“Aunt Eloise clearly meant to send it as a cruel prank,” Benedict corrected.

“What is so wrong with that author, Father?”

“A shorter conversation would be what is not wrong with this author,” Benedict said, turning to call his son. The little boy ran over to his father’s side, ever eager. “Take this and bury it, preferably far away from here.” His wife could not stop her laughter, watching their son hurriedly run over to the new rose bushes, making good work at digging a deep enough hole for the book. “You,” Benedict pointed at the girl, “are forbidden to read anything written by that lowly man.”

“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) admonished, trying hard to stop her laughter, “forbidding her from reading seems silly—”

“Are we not of the same mind on Byron?” Benedict asked. “I rather think that is how we met, is it not, dearest wife?”

She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “We are.”

“Besides,” Benedict stood a little straighter, “the roses could use a bit more sustenance.”

She could only roll her eyes.

[httpsdrewstarkey]

jealously || drew starkey

authors note: reposting!! tried to shorten, edit and make it better. enjoyyyy 🥵

warnings: smut smut smut! hair pulling, mentions of odessa (lol sorry)

synopsis: reader reflects on her past memories with drew

Y/N reclined her seat in the sun, the warm heat hitting her skin as she stretched out on the lounge chair. Her body was covered with oil, giving her a glow as she sipped from her drink, ice clinking gently against the glass. The sounds of the ocean waves crashing in the distance blended with the chatter of her friends, creating a peaceful yet lively background. She tilted her head slightly toward Madelyn, who had been unusually quiet for a while.

“He’s been asking about you, you know?” she said.

Y/N’s heart started to beat faster at Madelyn’s casual remark, her grip tightening slightly around her glass. “Really?” she managed to ask, her voice barely hiding the shock. She tried to sound nonchalant, but the nerves growing in her stomach telling her something else.

Madelyn gave her a knowing smile, leaning back in her own chair as she adjusted her sunglasses. “Yeah. He’s brought you up a few times. Not subtle at all.”

Y/N blinked, feeling her pulse quicken. Her mind raced, unsure what to do with that information. It had been a while—too long, really—since they had last spoken. She’d convinced herself she was fine with that, but hearing Drew had been asking about her stirred something deep inside her she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in months.

She shifted her body, peeking over her sunglasses as her gaze drifted across the beach. Drew stood a little ways away, football in hand, laughing with the boys. The sun seemed to cling to his skin, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft tan he’d picked up over the summer. His muscles flexed as he threw the ball, the sun highlighting every line and curve.

A pang of longing hit her like a wave, and she swallowed hard. She missed him. More than she could admit, even to herself. Memories of their late nights together crept into her mind—how they’d sit on his couch for hours, tangled up in each other, sharing secrets and stories until the early morning. The way his hands would linger on her skin, his touch gentle, but filled with meaning.

“So? What are you gonna do about it?” Madelyn’s teasing voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

She hesitated, not sure what to say. “I don’t know,” she murmured, almost to herself, her eyes lingering on Drew as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I don’t even know what I’d say.”

Y/N’s fingers traced the rim of her glass, her mind caught between the present and the past. Memories of Drew began filling her mind as she watched him now—laughing, tossing the football effortlessly—she couldn’t help but think back to that night in his apartment.

They had been sprawled on his couch, the dim, warm lighting casting soft shadows over the room. They both were drunk—more than either would admit. Y/N’s legs were lazily draped across his lap, with his hand tracing slow circles on her skin, the warmth of his touch sending gentle sparks through her.

Drew had thrown his head back, laughing hard. "No, I’m serious, he was so weird!" she giggled, her own laughter echoing through the room as she told him about her terrible date with some guy she met on Raya.

"He was probably just nervous," Drew teased, his deep laugh vibrating against her.

"Maybe," she shrugged, still laughing, "but then he made me pay the bill!"

Drew let out another laugh, his fingers never stopping their soft movements on her leg. "Now that’s fucked up," he said, shaking his head. His laughter eventually faded into a grin as his eyes settled on her, his gaze lingering a little too long. The way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made her get butterflies in her stomach.

Without thinking, Y/N blurted, "I’ve seen you on there—on Raya." The words hung in the air, light and teasing, but there was a curiosity behind them.

Drew’s lips curled into a knowing smile, his blue eyes shining. "Yeah?" He didn’t seem surprised, he had seen her there too. "I don’t use it much," he admitted, his tone casual as he leaned forward to place his drink on the coffee table. When he settled back, his hand slid from her knee to rest higher on her thigh, the gesture making her pulse quicken.

His touch was warm, familiar, yet it made her heart race in a way that left her both nervous and wanting more. The way he touched her always carried something deeper, something unsaid. He was confusing like that—always affectionate, always close, yet never making it clear where they stood. She knew him better than anyone, but sometimes it felt like there was a wall between them, one she couldn’t quite get through.

And then there was Odessa. She didn’t have to search for answers; the internet was full of speculation. Fans had noticed how much time Drew spent with her, and it was impossible to ignore when he’d taken her to the LOEWE show just a few weeks ago. Photos of them together, smiling and looking so comfortable, had spread like wildfire. Y/N had seen the comments—fans picking sides, arguing over who Drew was really with.

She’d never asked him about it, though. The thought of confronting it, of showing just how much it bothered her, made her feel sick. Instead, she kept her jealousy bottled up, letting it simmer beneath the surface. Every time she saw Drew with Odessa, or read another comment speculating about them, it chipped away at her, leaving her more confused about where she stood in his life.

In the back of her mind, all she could think about was Odessa—and the fact that she’d never know where she truly stood with him if she didn’t ask. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say a word, afraid of what his answer might be.

Her thoughts were a blur, caught somewhere between the warmth of Drew’s touch and the memories that swirled around them. She had been lost in them for what felt like minutes when Drew’s voice said something to her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice soft but curious, snapping her out of her thoughts.

A blush rose to her cheeks, and she quickly averted her gaze, too embarrassed to admit what had really been on her mind—the swirl of feelings, the confusing pull between wanting more and fearing what it would mean. She cleared her throat. “Nothing,” she said with a soft smile, brushing it off. “I should probably get going.”

Drew frowned slightly, his eyes lingering on her. “Stay the night. You’ve had a lot to drink,” he said, sounding concerned. “You can take my bed.”

Her heart raced at the offer. His bed. The thought of lying in the sheets that smelled like him, surrounded by the comfort of his space, sent her mind spinning. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked at him.

“I will... but only if you sleep in the bed with me,” she teased, her voice soft but playful.

Drew blinked, clearly caught off guard, his mouth slightly open as he processed what she had just said. “Okay, yeah,” he mumbled, almost too quiet, the surprised look on his face noticeable.

Y/N’s smile widened as she saw his reaction. “Do you have something I could wear?” she asked innocently, though the spark in her eyes hinted at something else. “Unless you’d prefer I go without.”

Drew’s eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. The image of her, naked in his bed, flashed through his mind, making his head spin. He tried to play it cool, but his voice faltered as he replied, “Uh, yeah... I’ll find you something.” Inside, he could barely think straight, the thought of her in his bed consuming him.

Drew stood from the couch, his movements a little slower than usual, the weight of the moment hanging between them. He walked to his bedroom, disappearing into the walk-in closet. Y/N sat there, her heart hammering in her chest, replaying their teasing exchange. She couldn’t believe she had said that—inviting him to sleep next to her, wearing his clothes. The thought made her stomach twist with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Drew returned, holding a soft T-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants. "Here," he said quietly, handing them to her with a small, almost shy smile. She took them, murmuring a soft "thank you" before heading to the bathroom.

Inside, Y/N caught her reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breathe, trying to calm her racing heart. Changing into Drew’s clothes felt so intimate, so personal. His scent clung to the fabric, making her feel both comforted and unsettled. She felt nervous—actually spending the night in his bed, with him, like this. It was everything she wanted, but now that it was happening, the reality of it made her feel almost sick.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she found Drew in the kitchen, snacking on leftovers. The sight of him casually leaning against the counter, lost in his own thoughts, made her smile. She walked over to him, grabbing a slice of pizza and pouring herself another drink.

Drew’s eyes were on her, watching the way his clothes hung on her body. Something about it—her in his shirt, in his kitchen, so effortlessly fitting into his space—made his throat tighten. He wanted to say something, tell her how much he wanted her, how badly he’d been holding back, but he couldn’t.

He looked over at her, his gaze softening as he stepped closer. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him gently. His lips pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, leaning down, his voice low as he whispered in her ear, “You tired?”

Her heart raced at his closeness, but she tried to stay calm, even though she could feel the nervous energy building with every passing second. She looked up at him, her pulse quickening under his gaze. “No, not really,” she replied.

Trying to regain some composure, she shifted out of his touch, leaning against the kitchen island, hoping the cool surface might help steady her nerves. But Drew wasn’t giving her much space to breathe. He stepped in front of her, his body still close, his presence overwhelming in the most intoxicating way.

"I’ve missed you, you know?" Drew’s voice was soft, almost vulnerable, as he stood close to her. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind for him, and being here with her felt like a long-overdue moment of peace.

Y/N, however, wanted to roll her eyes at him, to brush off his words, but the jealousy she had been trying to bury rose up, sharp and painful. She knew where most of his time had been spent—he and Odessa had been inseparable recently, especially during fashion week, and the thought pissed her off.

"You looked busy at fashion week," she said, her voice blunt, laced with the resentment she could no longer hide.

What she didn’t know was that while she was grappling with her feelings, Drew had been struggling with his own. In his hotel room that very morning, before the sun even rose, he laid back on the bed, buckling his hips, moaning her name.

Drew sighed, his brow furrowing. "We’re just friends," he said, stepping closer, his hands gently cupping her face, his thumb brushing over her lips with an intimacy that only confused her more.

Y/N’s eyes flicked up to meet his, her heart racing. "So are we," she countered, her voice quiet but pointed as she straightened up, trying to keep her composure.

Drew paused, a sad smile crossing his face, a look of realization and regret in his eyes. "No, we’re not," he whispered, his words hanging heavy between them. His gaze softened as he searched her face, as if trying to explain what words couldn’t.

She stared up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that they were finally at this moment. "I know," she whispered, the truth slipping from her lips before she had the chance to second-guess herself.

In an instant, Drew closed the small distance between them, his lips crashing into hers with a force that left her breathless, and all the tension, all the unspoken feelings, came flooding out. Her hand reached up, fingers softly holding onto his wrist as she leaned into him.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue brushing her lips, asking for more, and she opened for him, finally letting him in. It was heated, desperate, like they had both been waiting for this for far too long.

Drew’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as if there were no space left between them. Y/N's hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers in his hair, their bodies pressed together in an intense, almost painful closeness.

“Come to bed,” Drew whispered against her lips, his breath warm and urgent.

Reluctantly, they broke the kiss, but his hand finding hers and taking it into his as he guided her towards the bedroom. Y/N glanced back at him, her eyes conveying a mix of desire and need, silently begging for him to continue.

Drew’s gaze softened as he stood in front of her once more, leaning in to kiss her again. His hands roamed down to her waist again, pulling her up against him as he lifted her. The kiss was fiery, with the urgency of their emotions, and even though they were both slightly drunk, the intensity of the moment was unmistakable.

He carried her to his side of the bed, carefully lowering himself as he sat down, her knees straddling his legs. The kiss never broke; each touch igniting a deeper passion. His hands moved over her back, sliding up and down, his grip firm and on her hips.

Y/N began to grind against him, feeling him growing against her with each movement. The moan that escaped Drew’s lips against hers was a low and desperate sound, his hands exploring every curve of her body.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in Drew’s hair, pulling him closer as she grinded against him, their movements becoming more frantic. The sensation of feeling his cock grow harder made her pulse race. She could feel the raw need in his every touch, every shiver that ran through her.

Drew's hands slid up her back, his fingers pressing firmly as he guided her movements. He pulled her closer, their bodies aligning perfectly, the friction between them intense. The bed creaked beneath them as Drew laid back, taking Y/N with him. She straddled him, her hands exploring his chest.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his breathing ragged as he looked up at her, his eyes dark with passion. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

Her eyes locked onto his and she felt like she could barely speak. “I want you,” she managed to say. She began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she revealed more of his skin.

Drew’s hands found the hem of her shirt, pushing it up and over her head with a sense of urgency. He traced kisses down her neck and shoulders, his touch sending shivers down her spine. As she worked to free him from his shirt, he leaned up, their bodies pressing together as he began to undo the buttons of her jeans.

As he stood up, taking off his belt and reaching for the button of his pants, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Every movement he made seemed effortless, like he knew exactly what he was doing and how it would affect her. The way his body moved, the confidence in his posture—it all mesmerized her.

Drew reached out his hand, and she took it, standing up to meet him as his lips found hers again, his hands found their way to her back, unclasping her bra.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes scanning her body, taking her in. His gaze was intense his hand, resting on the back of her neck, slowly traced its way down to her chest, his fingertips barely brushing against her skin. The soft touch sent shivers down her spine, every inch of her body alive with anticipation.

Drew paused for a moment, as if savoring the closeness between them, the charged silence that hung in the air. His thumb grazed her skin lightly teasing and testing her. Her breath caught in her throat as she stood in front of him.

The whisper caught Y/N completely off guard. "Sit on my face." She blinked in shock, staring at Drew in disbelief. He had never been this bold, not like this. The Drew she knew was quiet, tender, sometimes shy. But now, the intensity in his voice sent a wave of heat through her body. Her heart raced, and she could barely believe the words had come from him.

Yet, despite the surprise, she found herself nodding, as her body moved instinctively to obey him. Drew laid back on the bed, still in his boxers, his hand reaching out for hers. She straddled him, her knees sinking into the soft mattress.

"Come closer, baby. Hold the headboard," he instructed. The words made her pulse quicken even more, and she slowly scooted up, gripping the headboard for support. Her heart hammered in her chest, a mixture of nervousness and desire flooding her senses.

Before she could process it all, Drew’s strong hands gripped her waist, pulling her down with a swiftness that nearly knocked the breath out of her. She gasped, her body tensing as his mouth moved against her folds, his tongue grazing over her clit that left her mind spinning.

She closed her eyes, biting her lip as the sensations took over. His grip on her hips was firm, holding her steady as his tongue continued to eat her out. Y/N’s fingers tightened around the headboard, trying to keep herself grounded as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

Drew’s own breathing became heavier, and she could feel his grip shifting slightly as one hand moved down his own body, pulling his cock out for some relief. He groaned softly against her, stroking himself, as if the taste of her and the sound of her pleasure was enough to drive him wild.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, the overwhelming sensations making it hard to think straight. Drew's tongue moved faster, sending her spiraling closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with need as his grip tightened on her hips, holding her right where he wanted her.

His grip tightened on her hips, Y/N couldn't stop herself—she began to grind up against his face, searching for more of that incredible feeling. His tongue continued to work against her, and the friction only intensified the pleasure.

Drew groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her body, making her moan louder. "That's it, baby," he whispered between breaths, encouraging her, his hands guiding her movements. Y/N’s body reacted naturally, moving against him with more urgency.

The rhythm became faster, more desperate, her hips rolling against his face as she gripped the headboard tighter. Her breath was shallow, every inch of her alive with sensation. It was all too much and yet not enough.

“I can’t—” she gasped, her voice trembling as she felt herself spiraling out of control. He responded with even more determination, his tongue pressing harder, his hands keeping her steady.

And then it hit her, the pleasure rushing through her body tensed as she moaned out, her hips bucking wildly against him as she came all over hid face. Drew held her steady, his mouth never leaving her until she was completely undone.

Her legs trembled uncontrollably as she finally stilled, breathing heavily, feeling the aftershocks of her release pulse through her body. His hands gently moved up and down her thighs, soothing her as she came down, his lips curling into a soft smile beneath her.

Y/N slowly made her way down his body, her hands trailing over him, before reaching the waistband of his boxers. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking up to meet his as she tugged them down. She was her knees in front of him, her ass in the air, she was the image of temptation, and Drew felt like he might come undone just from the sight of her. His pulse quickened, his eyes locked on her every movement.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N took the tip of him into her mouth, her lips soft and warm as they wrapped around him. Drew let out a low groan, his hand going to her hair, gripping it gently as he watched her in awe. She was teasing him, taking her time, her tongue swirling slowly over the tip, and the intensity of the eye contact sent a rush of heat through his body.

He leaned his head back, his breath hitching as he felt her take more of him into her mouth, her pace steady but deliberate. “God, you look so good like this,” Drew muttered. His hand tightened in her hair as he watched her, smirking despite the tension building within him.

"Come here," he wispered. Y/N looked up at him, her heart racing as she crawled up his body, straddling his lap. Drew sat up straighter, pulling her closer until their chests were pressed together. His hands slid up her sides, cupping her breasts, his touch sending sparks through her skin.

He leaned in, taking one of her breasts into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her nipple before sucking gently. Y/N gasped at the sensation, her fingers threading through his hair as she arched into him. Each flick of his tongue sent a shiver down her spine, her hips grinding against him as she felt herself getting wetter.

With a swift movement, Drew flipped her over, his strength and urgency catching Y/N off guard. Her face was pressed into the mattress, her ass in the air once again, exposed and vulnerable. She felt a shiver run down her spine as Drew’s hands traced the curve of her back, his touch both soft and commanding.

His grip tightened as he grabbed her ass, squeezing firmly, making her gasp. The control he held over her in that moment made her pulse quicken, her body aching for more.

"Beg for it, baby," he said, his voice deep and rough. The demand sent a rush of heat straight through her, making her feel alive.

Y/N bit her lip, trying to gather her thoughts as his hands roamed her body, teasing her. She could feel how badly he wanted her, how close he was, but he was making her work for it.

“Please, Drew,” she whispered, her voice breathless. “I need you. I need you so bad.”

Drew smirked, satisfied with her response, his hands squeezing her ass again, sending jolts of pleasure through her. "Louder," he demanded, his voice full of authority.

She whimpered, pushing back against him, her body craving more. “Please, daddy. I can’t wait any longer.” Her voice was louder now, desperate, her body trembling with need.

"Good girl," he whispered, and in one fluid motion, he positioned himself behind her, ready to give her everything she'd begged for.

As Drew's hips moved in and out of her, the intense rhythm driving them both wild, Y/N gripped the sheets tightly. He had dreamed of this day for so long, and he could barely contain himself as he threw his head back, lost in the sheer pleasure of the moment.

"Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. His praise only heightened her need, making her even wetter as the sound of their skin slapping together echoed in the room.

Despite her breathless moans, she was struggling to form coherent words, her mind clouded with pleasure. Drew's demand for her to talk made her gasp. "Talk, let me hear you," he urged, as he slammed back into her.

Y/N’s moans were her primary response, but she managed to tease him. “Maybe if you spent less time with Odessa, you’d know exactly what you’re missing.”

Drew’s eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and amusement. He suddenly pulled her hair into a makeshift ponytail, his body pressing firmly against hers. Leaning in close, he whispered into her ear, “Oh, really? Is that right?” He said.

Y/N felt a shiver run through her, realizing she’d spoken too soon. Caught off guard by his intimate grip and the intense pressure of his body against hers, she struggled to respond. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as Drew’s hips drove into her with even more force.

“Nothing to say, huh?” Drew teased softly, his voice low and playful, “Need me to fuck the jealousy out of you?”

His movements were relentless, the sound of his balls slapping up against her, and the pressure building in her stomach making her moan, unable to respond to him. His focus remained on her, gripping her ass, moving in and out of her, he was determined to make her come all over him, to feel her fall apart around him.

“I got you another drink,” Madelyn said, her voice pulling Y/N out of her reverie. Y/N jumped slightly, her mind still tangled in memories of Drew.

Madelyn handed her the drink, and Y/N took it with a grateful nod. “Thank you,” she said, her voice betraying the adrenaline pumping through her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves.

As Y/N sipped her drink, her gaze drifted back to where Drew was standing. Her emotions were all over the place. The sight of him, so close yet so distant, made her wish for things left unsaid and dreams yet to be realized. She could almost feel the pull of their past and the uncertain promise of what could come next.

[randomgurl2326]

the love of a blackwood is meant only for a bracken

benjicot blackwood x fem!bracken!reader

warnings: angst at the beginning, major fluff, overall happiness

summary: the love of a bracken is meant only for a blackwood part 2

the wound of heartbreak still fresh in your heart as you lay in the pillowy mattress of your bed. you haven’t left in days. aeron not having come to see you, your father refusing to look at you, cousins having shunned you; the only ones to see you in two weeks were your handmaidens. even then only speaking when absolutely necessary.

your eyes have dried of tears but your eyes still sting at the thought of your past lover. the rift only growing everyday as the blackwood boy’s raven being ignored as sent back each day as it comes.

a hesitant knock sounds through your chambers. you turn over at the noise “go away.” you sniffled as you heard a sigh. aeron speaks to you through the door “y/n… listen, I’m sorry. but you have to understand-“

at the sound of aeron’s voice you’re quick out of bed and open the door. the splotches of red on your face haven’t dimmed in days, your eyes sad and full of lost love. “what, aeron? what do I have to understand?” exasperation clear in your voice as it croaks out the words. he looks down at you with guilt in his eyes. you can still see the remnants of bruises that benjicot left in your honor “you know the history, y/n. after everything we’ve told you, you still go behind our house’s back”

“do you even understand the feud in between our families. do you even know what our family did to the balckwoods? do you?” tears are no longer able to sting your eyes with how much you have cried in the past weeks.

aeron’s sad eyes look into yours as he speaks “sister, I didn’t come here to fight. father wants to see you, says he needs to speak about something important with you.”

your heart rate rises as he says those words, worry quickly befalling you “do-do you know what he needs to speak to me about?”

“you know as much as I. but I could only think—“ I nod “the blackwoods” aeron nods and turn to leave. you grab his shoulder before he’s out of reach “I never meant to hurt you when it happened. you know that, right?”

“I know, sister. I-i overreacted, I know that. you’re my sister. I protect you. you know that.” his words calm your heart and smile for the first time in weeks. the smile sending too many words in a small action. the bracken boy smiles back at you and pats your shoulder “you should probably get dressed. father’a expecting you soon.”

with those last words he leaves and sends your handmaidens in. the girls raid your closet as you turn at your door. “my lady, are you alright?” the sweet girl named stellane. “of course, stellane. let’s get me dressed, shall we?” as she brings out yellow and brown dresses for you to choose from you smile as you realize your brother has forgiven you.

once stellane is finished dressing you you head to your father’s meeting room for his bannermen. as you reach the cracked door your knees start to wobble and breath shortens at the thought of what he wants to say to you. finally, you gather your temporarily lost bearings and enter “father, you wanted to see me?”

as you enter you look down and see two pairs of feet. confused, you look up. as your eyes slowly trail up the figures of your father and the mystery person you recognize who it is. your breaths start to quicken, your bosom rising and falling with your heart beat. benjicot blackwood on bracken land inside the bracken house. no wounds touched him, no bruises darkened him.

you turn to your lord father quickly, eyes wide “father?”

“daughter, come” lord bracken beckons you over to him and the young lord blackwood. as you walk up to the men yours and benji’s eyes meet. two weeks. no returned ravens. two weeks of complete silence and he still looks at you as if you hung the stars and the moon.

the six feet it took to walk towards your father and lost love felt like years when only it took mere seconds. as you reach your father and the unexpected guest your look lord bracken in the eye and take a deep wavering breath. your lord father speaks with a low baritone “y/n, my only daughter. I know of your transgressions and false loyalty of the bracken name…”

“father—“

“you will let me finish… you have forsaken our house and tainted your body with the likes of a blackwood…” you see benjicot’s jaw lock as he takes a deep breath “…however, I have come to the realization that even with your… crooked actions you have given an opportunity to fix the centuries long rift of our houses.”

your eyes widen and look to benjicot. the implications of your father’s words swim through your mind. the dark gray eyes of your lover’s eyes give you all the confirmation you need. “father, surely you don’t mean…”

he raises a hand to silence you, “yes, daughter. the deal is in place and lord blackwood has accepted.” his next words mumbled as he spoke, “no surprise as he’s already defiled you.”

at his words ben clicks his tongue and his hand clenches and unclenches; clearly trying to compose his temper.

your reaction different. your heart stopping. marriage. to benjicot blackwood. an end to the suffrage of your families. two lovers returned to one another. a realization hits you as you stand there. your lover willing to fight for you, move mountains for you, end a war for you just to see you again. no matter whether you wanted to see him again. bwnjicot blackwood, lord of raventree hall, and the man who you wanted to kiss fucking stupid right now.

as your heart returns to its natural rate your father speaks “I believe you two would like to speak about our decision.” as he leaves you look back at him and he squeezes your shoulder. an action that wouldn’t mean much to others, but as heartfelt as a stark oath.

benjicot speaks first, “y/n—“ you interrupt him with a searing kiss as you pull his tunic down. the passion the same if not stronger as the last time you met. tongues dancing like dragons in the sky, and sparks running through your veins as he cups your face. as you two part he rests his forehead on yours. as you catch your breath you speak “I love you. I was stupid, a-and I want thinking. I didn’t mean it, I swear it. I love you.”

your betrothed interrupts you with another searing kiss “shut up. you weren’t stupid. you may have broken my heart but you weren’t stupid…” his stupid huff of a laugh escapes him as he says those words “…you had every right—“

“but I was wrong. I shouldn’t have told you to go away. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve—“

“you should’ve done exactly what you did. I was wrong for what I did, but I don’t regret it.”

you rub your noses together and play with his collar “you shouldn’t. I was mean…”

“I like it when your mean,” you smack him at his jests.

“I was mean and selfish… so selfish,” your confession hitting his ears with a ping to his heart. ben moves his hand from your jaw to your cheek as his other hand plays with your hair “you were allowed to be selfish. I should’ve brought it up differently o-or just left. but I couldn’t keep it inside any longer. I couldn’t keep letting gmy love be torn from me because of some stupid war that no one knows what it’s for anymore. I needed you then and I need you now. I came to your father because I needed to see you, whether you wanted to see me or not. I needed to hear your saccharine voice because I need you just to continue living. to continue breathing. and I love you, and I would keep loving you even if you didn’t love me.”

tears brim your eyes at your blackwood boy’s words. and they fall as you store his words into your heart. he wipes your tears as they fall. “I do not deserve you, benjicot blackwood. how could I when you love me so and I couldn’t even bring my self to return your ravens?”

“you didn’t need to because I knew. I knew even if you wouldn’t see me because I can feel it” he takes your hand into his and bring it to his heart. his throat tightening as he speaks “I feel it.”

you rest your forehead against his chest and you feel the rise and fall of it. finding comfort in your lover’s slow heaves of his chest. you raise your head to look into his stormy eyes, your voice hoarse “I love you, benjicot blackwood. from the walls of stone hedge to the snow of castle black, I love you.”

the blackwood boy steals your lips in a passionately slow kiss. the salt of your tears mix together. when he pulls back he murmurs against your pillowy lips “i am going to marry you, y/n bracken. you will be mine, and i yours forever. mind and soul, I belong to you. if you will have me.”

your smile as wide as the seas in essos as you laugh “you, lord blackwood are a fool if you think I would ever refuse you.” your hands thread through his coarse, black hair.

his eyes trail down to your lips “it’s a good thing I secured a betrothal with your father then.” his jest rings through the room as it mixes with your laugh. “yes, lord blackwood, it is” you lean up to kiss your love again, this time harder than the ones before. this kiss solidifying your love for one another. lips meld together, teeth clash, and tongues dance as you express your love for one another. as the kiss come to an end he rests his nose on your cheek as you pant.

“I should go tell oscar and kermit” you pull back and slap him up the head. “is that really what your daft head is thinking about right now? after we pour our hearts and souls out to one another?”

benjicot pulls you by the waist to bring you back to him “only a jest, my love”

“not a funny one” you murmur. the boy leans his head down as he speaks “I believe you used to quite like my jests.” “only the funny ones—“

your quips were cut off at the sound of the door creaking, revealing your brother. aeron’s eyes trail down to benji’s hands on your waist and rolls his eyes. nonetheless he keeps his composure and clears his throat “I hear a congratulations are in order.” your brother’s eyes still focused on where your betrothed’s hands are placed and he finally takes a hint as he removes them.

“aeron, if you’re going to start something—“

“relax, sister. I mean it. I’m… happy for you” he looks you straight in the eye to convey that he only means the best. aeron moves his eyes from you to benji “and I guess you’re marrying my sister…”

benjicot nods sternly, still not used to your brother being nice. they stare at each other for who knows how long before you pipe up “should I leave?”

“no” the word said by both boys at the same time and they clear their throats. after your brother’s embarrassment he speaks “i have to go.” he leaves the room before any more embarrassment can reach him.

your lover turns to you “I still don’t like him.” you pat his cheek “I know, my love.” you turn to leave and he still stands there and calls out to you “don’t think I’ll ever be friends with him!”

once you’re out of earshot he lets out a little ‘shit’ knowing that once you’re married you’ll try to make them befriend one another. once benji realizes that he’s alone in the bracken’s fortress—stone hedge—he runs out to try and find you.

“y/n!”

a/n: here’s part two to the love of a bracken meant only for a blackwood. I didn’t expect so many people to like the last part, however I do have a part three in store. It may or may not be smutty😏 and it totally doesn’t haven’t simp benjicot. No way. No siree

anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it, love you💚💜

|| series taglist ||

@minaxcarter @whiteoakoak

@cypherpt5fttaehyung @rebeccawinters

*bold means I couldn’t tag you*

[water-to-drink]

If Only I Can Turn Back Time

(Pairing): Zhongli x gn!reader x Childe (separate)

(Synopsis): After taking the life of his lover thousands of years ago, Zhongli finds your current incarnation without another lover

(Tags/Warnings): Angst no comfort, blood, pet names (sunshine, darling, & babe), non consensual touching, not beta read (wrote this instead of sleeping), might feel rushed, (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 1.1k

(A/n): It’s sad bitch hours folks

𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍

“Morax…? Why?” You gurgled due to your blood coming up to your mouth due to the gaping hole in your stomach

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I told you I would do anything for my people.” The god you used to call your lover replied coldly

You grit your teeth to say something to the stone god, but you decide against it instead opting to let tears run down your face as your vision gradually fades

The mystery of what you were originally planning on being your last words still plagues Morax to this day, in his new life stepping down from his role as archon and living the rest of his days as the mortal known as Zhongli. Were your final words going to declarations of love or hatred? He wouldn’t blame you if it was the latter, he would hate himself too

For years he tried to justify it by telling himself that it was the best for his people, but after the years of self reflection he realized it was only to protect himself. Truly thinking that if you died by his hands then it would save him from the heart break Osial’s betrayal caused him

Letting his paranoia get the best of him after Osial’s betrayal and Guizhong’s death he killed the last pillar holding up his life

“Hey! Are you listening?” The familiar voice of a ginger haired man brought Zhongli out of his bout of self-loathing

“Oh, I’m sorry. Please continue.”

“As I was saying my amazing wonderful beautiful finance is coming to Liyue!” Childe smiled and continued. “Their boat is arriving today and I’m so excited, I wish to have them in my arms and listen to talk!”

Zhongli sipped his tea as the young man continued to gust about you and how much he misses you. Reuniting with your lover is beautiful thing, he remembers the times where you would run into his loving embrace. Spinning you in his arms, hearing your melodic laughter, seeing your precious smiling face, feeling the softness of your lips. Sweet memories that will always be close to his heart

“Ah! Their boat is arriving now!” Childe looked at his watch and quickly ran down to the harbor, leaving his tea on the table. From his seat he spotted the distinctive mop of ginger running to the docks as a boat arrives to port

Though he is not a nosey person, Zhongli couldn’t help himself to hone his hearing onto Childe. Who is this person that captured the bloodthirsty man’s heart and made him giddy like a schoolboy? His curiosity was peaked

“Sunshine!”

“Gingersnap!” A familiar voice rings throughout the dragon’s ears

Hesitantly turning his head he sees a sight that he thought he would never see again. There you are, walking and talking like how you used to before the war. Even the smile he vividly remembers is still the same, only that it’s made for someone else

The Harbinger you’re currently hugging

Still in a state of shock Zhongli didn’t register that you and Childe were making your way up the stairs, until the both of you were right in front of him

“As I told you before, this is my fiancé (Y/N).” Childe introduced

Your name was different but still beautifully matched you, a name he wouldn’t dare shorten it to a nickname. A name that every syllable should be worthship whenever it rolls off his tongue

“Zhongli, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tartaglia has told me a lot about you.”

As the days progressed he got to learn more about this current incarnation of you, there were many things that remained the same yet, some things different. Learning about your new likes felt like he was falling in love with you all over again

“You know Zhongli, it feels like I known you for a long time.” You mention offhandedly

Oh how much he wants to hold your hand and tell you it’s because the two of you were lovers in the past. To beg for forgiveness for what he did to you and promise that he would devote his entire existence to protecting you

Despite priding himself on his patience Zhongli feels it wearing thin with each pasting second. There’s a constant conflict going on inside of him, one side wanting to leave you alone and let you enjoy your new life and the other side wanting you to remember the time where the two of you were lovers. It feels like a kettle that’s about to explode

“Goodbye, Zhongli.” You said, heartbreakingly similar to the way you said your last goodbye to him

Against his better judgement he reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace

“H-hey! Let go of me!” You said as you struggled against his grip

“Please. Please, remember.” He uncharacteristically pleaded as he began to use some Adeptal magic on you to share some of memories with you

Memories of your first time meeting, your conversations that would last til the sun sets, him confessing his feelings to you, your first time being intimate with each other. Every memory that he has involving you being shared, from the first moment to the last

Slowly you stopped struggling against him and he releases you from his grip. You pushed him away and turned to face him, your eyes had a glint of recollection yet confliction to them signaling that your old memories are flooding back into your mind

“Morax…”

“Darling.” Zhongli whispers as he opens his arms and slowly approaches you

Extending your arm out you stop the former archon from coming closer

He wanted to asked what was wrong but the look of betrayal on your face, the same expression you wore the day he used his spear to strike you down, told him everything that he needed to know

You don’t love him like you did before

Rapid footsteps alerted the two of you to the upcoming presence of another. A mop of orange hair pops up before the harbinger makes his way up the stairs and kisses you on the cheek

“Hey babe, is something the matter?” Childe asked, sensing the tension between the two of you

“Oh I was just saying goodbye to Mr. Zhongli.” You stated with a smile to your lover

Heartbroken he watched as the two of you walked down the stairs, your words getting out of ear shot

You turned to glance at your former lover one last time before returning your attention to the young man

[msbigredmachine]

Kitty Kat (Roman Reigns)

After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post Summerslam 2024.

Warnings: SMUT (yes i know its excessive im sorry 😭)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This got way too long bc I talk too much. I tried to shorten it I promise but I just couldn't. I do hope you like it either way...

Song inspiration: Again - Lenny Kravitz

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

-------------------

He could get used to this.

As he stepped off the plane, Joe discreetly adjusted the bulge in his pants and exhaled deeply, allowing himself a giddy smile in anticipation for what was to come. 

He couldn’t wait to see her again. His Kitty Kat. The interesting part was that this time, she’d flown him out to come spend the week with her, in First Class, no less. “It’s a five-hour flight from Cleveland to L.A., so I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Daddy,” she’d told him. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision being ‘flewed out’. He’d been the one flying her out in his private jet, chartering luxury vehicles to bring her to him. The reverse felt strange and would take some getting used to, but it did feel nice to be pampered and taken care of for once.

Seated comfortably in the back of the Cadillac Escalade driving him through the City of Angels, he reminisced about last night in Cleveland. It was fun to hear the crowd again, the adrenaline rush of his entrance music blaring all around the Browns Stadium. It was a long absence from wrestling for him, darkened by the passing of his father, followed by the whirlwind preparation and execution of his funeral, grand, exhausting and emotional. Kat being by his side for all of it was a precious elixir he could never repay her for, but perhaps he could start tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. It was an unknown number, but against his better judgment, he answered and hoped it wasn’t some weirdo fan. “Hello?”

“You left town without telling me? I saw you all over Summerslam last night!” the shrill, familiar voice responded.

Scratch that. Now he wished it was a fan. “I know I blocked your ass. This is stalking,” was his cold greeting. 

“I just want us to talk, Joe! We can’t just end things the way we did!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Ebony. I got the DNA test I wanted. Go find your baby daddy and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Are you ever gonna forgive me? I made a mistake!” Ebony pleaded. “You didn’t even invite me to Sika’s funeral. That hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Bitch, don’t piss me off!” Joe countered angrily. “Blurting out that I’m not Josiah’s daddy was not a mistake! I also found the messages in your phone, remember? You and your little group chat laughed at me, laughed about me raising a kid that ain't mine!”

“That’s a female ass trait, y’know, lookin’ through my phone and invading my privacy!” Ebony complained.

“You can invade these nuts,” Joe dismissed, “You cheated on me and lied about the paternity of your son! That’s enough for me to wash my hands off of you and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

For a second, Ebony was quiet. Then, “Let me guess. You’re with that uppity rich bitch. She was at your dad’s funeral, both of y'all looked so cozy in the videos. She's the reason you don’t wanna work things out, right? Weren’t you seeing her before we broke up? Who’s the cheater now, huh?”

Joe scoffed in disbelief. After all she’d done to make his life a living hell, she was still gaslighting him. “We were over long before I started seeing her. I only hung around cuz I thought the kid you were carrying was mine. Don’t act like your whorish toxic ways didn’t drive me into her arms in the first place! You broke us up, so I’ve moved on from your evil ass. Simple.”

Ebony kissed her teeth. “You are so disrespectful to me, always have been. You never cared about me. It was all about your fucking wrestling. You were always gone! I was lonely! I needed you and you didn't give a shit!”

“So that’s why you opened your legs for some bum, got knocked up, and lied that I was the father? You disrespected yourself!” He felt himself getting riled up and had to compose himself. He would not let his ex ruin his day. “Imma make this clear so even you can understand. We. Are. Done. Call me again and it’s my attorney you’ll be talking to.” Cutting off the call, he then blocked the number and deleted it for added measure.

Fuck that ho.

Anyway, back to his girl, Kat. It had been an amazing few months so far with her. Of course, he’d googled her in the beginning, asked Heyman to run a background check to make sure she was legit and not a psychopath like his ex. Katrina Sullivan was one of the most famous music producers in the world and the top executive at her renowned publishing label. She was a big time player in her industry just like he was, a star in her own right, and it was a match made in Heaven.

Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but sex with her was a wild ride. She gave him a run for his money whenever they fucked. She was all about new experiences and wasn’t too prissy to fuck inside a car or suck him off outside a dive bar. He blushed every time he remembered the freaky shit they got up to after his loss at Wrestlemania. Long story short, she made him feel much better about dropping the belt. He loved that she loved sex as much as he did, and if he wasn’t hooked on her before, he was completely addicted after that night. 

And it wasn’t all about the physical. There was an emotional bond they shared, a connection that he’d never felt with anyone else before her. Talking with her felt like talking with a friend. He would unload his good days and bad days on her and she would listen to all of it without passing judgment. He did the same for her and was proud to be the one she learned to trust after her own past heartbreaks. Joe wished he’d had the courage to leave Ebony earlier. Perhaps he would have found the woman who had become his peace, his safe haven, and closed the hole in his heart much, much sooner.

A Google Map search helped him find the best florist in town. The ladies in the shop ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the beautiful bouquet of roses he bought and how lucky his lady was. But he thought he was the lucky one. As he took a deep breath and inhaled the flowers, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of her beautiful face, her smile, her warm embrace. Joe knew he was in love, but he didn’t quite know how to tell her yet. It was weird enough that he lowkey felt like a thot being flown out. He really didn’t mind, though. All he wanted was to be with her and just be in her presence, in her aura. He would tell her when he was ready.

-----------------

Kat’s mansion was the stuff of dreams. Isolated on the hills of the Pacific Palisades overlooking lush Californian greenery, it was one of her rewards as the most in-demand producer in music today. The living room segued into the kitchen, which welcomed him with the smell of freshly cooked food. Pasted to her stainless steel refrigerator by a small circular ‘Acknowledge Me’ magnet, was a note from her saying that she’d just headed out for a last-minute meeting and directed him to the oven where a warm skillet of sirloin steak and seasoned roasted potatoes waited for him. She had also stocked her fridge with his Megafit meals along with C4 Energy drinks and a few bottles of her own branded tequila. His baby was spoiling him rotten and he was digging it.

He first put the fresh flowers in a vase he filled with water before settling down to eat. He wished she was here with him, but he understood more than anyone how busy things could be when you were at the top of your game. He was proud of her and wanted her to get all the coins she deserved. Halfway through his meal, he pulled out his phone and checked on her.

After dinner, he embarked on a little tour around her breathtaking abode which ended up taking several minutes to complete. Joe had some nice homes of his own around the globe, but this floored them all. The edifice dripped with luxury and was crafted to perfection, just like his Kitty Kat was. He enjoyed the gorgeous city view from her balcony as he sipped on some tequila. Her bathroom was spacious and had a waterfall shower that he luxuriated in when he stepped inside. One side of her walk-in wardrobe was lined with an assortment of brand new t-shirts, pants and dress shirts all for him. Of course she knew his size; she’d ripped his clothing off of him on many occasions. His stomach was doing flips as the time continued to tick by. It was hilarious that the big bad Tribal Chief was acting all giddy at the mere thought of a woman, but here he was, entangled in her expensive satin sheets, counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

----------------

The sound of running water jerked him awake. The plane ride must have worn him out more than he thought; he didn’t even realize when he fell asleep. The sky outside was now pitch black but the bathroom lights were switched on. As he sat upright in the bed, something rolled down his bare chest and onto his lap. He looked down and his breath hitched. A sheer, baby pink-colored thong, just removed. Unable to resist, he held it up to his nose and shivered as her sensual aroma filled his nostrils and sent all his blood rushing south. With newfound enthusiasm, he climbed out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom. 

Katrina’s back was turned to him, standing over the tub as she drained the bath. Draped in a fluffy lilac bathrobe that barely covered her backside as she bent over, Joe chose to stand there and admire her, letting his eyes follow the rivulets of water that trickled down her long shapely legs. He trailed his gaze along the backs of her knees and her oh-so-sexy thighs, stopping at her luscious derrière where he found her pussy lips, slick and glistening, winking at him. He groaned out loud at the sight, feeling his bulge stir in his drawstring shorts.

Alerted by the noise he made, Kat spun around and sighed. "Oh, damn," she frowned and bounced her fist against her thigh.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Did I frighten you?”

“Not really. I wanted to wake you up by sucking your dick.” 

Chuckling heartily, he stepped closer. "You still can, baby. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, sealing their lips together in a kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. He held her tight, molding their bodies together as time seemed to stop all around them. The anticipation had been building all day and just this moment alone was worth the long wait.  

Joe sighed happily against her lips, his fingers massaging the back of her neck. “Mmm, I can tell you missed me. Did you miss me, baby?”

“You know I did, Daddy,” she whispered back. It had been months in the making, but Kat was thrilled that he was finally here in her humble abode. She pulled back to regard him, marveling at the sheer height and width of him, his bare, broad chest showcasing that beautiful tattoo and all those muscles. Fuck, he was so hot. “I saw the roses in the kitchen, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you are, baby,” Joe answered, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “How was your meeting?”

Kat huffed and rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time. Don’t really wanna talk about it,” she added, changing the topic to a more exciting one. “You looked so good last night, babe. I could see how happy you were to be back.”

“I was,” he admitted, his light brown eyes lighting up. “Bro, hearing the fans go bananas when my music hit was insane. And all those fingers in the air, too. Four years of bustin' my ass finally paying off.”

“Huh. I had one finger out too, but it wasn’t in the air, and I was layin’ in bed. Naked,” Kat teased, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

The thought of her writhing around in bed aroused by his show of violence caused another tightening in his shorts. With a growl in his voice, he responded, "Show me." 

“Wait.” She put up one hand before he could grab her. “Before we get started…I never got to ask you because we were so busy with the funeral…But did you take the DNA test?” she asked, watching with dismay as his face fell. He looked away with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, something she learned he did when he was reeling in his emotions. 

“Yeah. Josiah’s not mine,” he replied sadly.

Two distinct emotions of her own rushed through Kat at this news. Relief, that he was no longer tied to Ebony and he could now, finally, move on with his life. Move on with her. Disappointment, on his behalf, knowing that he had enjoyed getting to know the baby boy he’d thought was his child. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could muster.

“Don’t be. At least I know the truth now. I care about the kid, but he’s not my responsibility any more,” he choked out, the sting of losing that sweet little boy still raw and painful.

“Oh, baby.” Kat rubbed her hands up and down his broad back to soothe him. She regretted downing the mood and sought to fix it. “What can I do?” 

Joe shook his head and sank into her embrace. “Just be with me, like this. I wanna be with you. Thank you for bringing me out here, it’s exactly what I needed.”

“Of course. You know I gotchu,” she assured him, butterflies sprouting inside her belly as he dropped feather-light kisses on her neck, trailing along her shoulder which was soon bare as he slipped off her robe and dropped it to the floor. She tugged down his shorts and her hungry gaze zeroed in on that other part of him that she missed. All those FaceTime calls and selfies did very little justice to the real thing. This was his first time on her turf, and she was determined to use this week wisely, especially as this extended period didn’t quite exist before. 

In the beginning, their meetings were brief and eventful, a couple of hours’ escape from the madness going on in their individual lives. Meet up, scorch the sheets, and wake to the sound of the rustle of clothes pulled from the floor, the sharp zipping of bags, quick kisses goodbye followed by the front door quietly clicking open and shut. At each other’s mercy at sunset then disappearing before dawn to resume reality. It was a thrill at first but as time passed, Kat realized she wanted more with him. She wanted to begin and end her days in his sturdy arms. Wanted them to shower together, to eat together and spend much more time together. Simply put, she wanted to be a real couple, and she was ecstatic when he confessed that he wanted the same. Coming to L.A. was a great start and it excited Kat to no end.

Hand in hand, they walked together, naked, out of the bathroom. She giggled as he followed closely behind her, kissing her neck and touching her body along the way. As they reached the bed, Joe noticed the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket full of ice on the nightstand. Kat read his mind. “Just a lil’ sumn to celebrate your arrival,” she clarified, as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His gaze was soft, yet beautifully intense as he ran his hands up her thighs and her hips, cupping her backside and bringing her even closer to him. He pressed his lips to her stomach, adorning her belly with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that felt so good she moaned pleasurably in approval.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her brown skin, his voice clear yet filled with a vulnerability he’d never felt before.

Kat smiled down at him. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“For real?” His heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she could hear it.

Her smile widened as she loosened his ponytail, letting the long dark locks fall and frame his breathtaking features like the angel he was. Her angel. “Yeah. I mean…After everything we’ve shared, after getting to know the beautiful person that you are, of course I’m in love with you too.”

They were words he’d been hoping to hear from her for a while now, and now that he had, he was robbed of every sensation other than joy and peace and the burning need to make love to her nonstop for the rest of his stay in the West Coast. “You’re beautiful too, baby girl,” he rasped, drawing her back in, “So fuckin’ beautiful…”

They clung to each other, making out with increasing passion, both of them extremely aroused and more desperate than ever in the wake of this wonderful revelation. As they kissed, he slipped one hand over her breast, kneading gently, eliciting from her those purring sounds that earned her sexy little nickname. He missed his Kitty Kat so much. The last time they were together was at his father’s funeral, and he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be. Now that they were all alone there was nothing stopping him from having his way with her.

But apparently, she had other plans. 

She pushed him hard in the chest, smirking at his surprised grunt as he hit the mattress rather unceremoniously. “Get in,” she instructed him.

He frowned petulantly at her, but did as he was told, dragging himself backwards up the bed with his eyes on her at all times. He felt his mouth go dry as she crawled towards him on all fours like the sexy ass kitten she was. As she reached the space between his open legs, she surprised him by picking up her thong and winding it around his wrists, securing it tight before pushing his arms over his head. 

“Baby…” he pouted.

“Shhhh,” Kat shushed him quietly, thrilled by the submission in his eyes, the surrender in his soft moan, his dick hard and erect in anticipation. Having control over a man like him felt so empowering. Though sexually submissive to him, Kat always enjoyed it when the roles were switched. It never lasted long though, so she planned to make the most of it.

Climbing back down his body, she rubbed her hands on the expanse of his thighs, his caramel skin warm beneath her fingers. She moved higher, coming dangerously close to the pleasure between his legs but avoiding it, for now. She wanted to touch it but the wait was more exciting. Her hands disappeared to squeeze his ass cheeks, and then reappeared over his hips, traveling along the sharpened ridges of his six-pack abs and up to his broad chest. Her body followed suit, sliding up until her thighs bracketed his sides. The little hiss that escaped him as she sat on his torso thrilled her; she knew right away that he could feel her warm moistness against his skin. Her fingers found his nipples next, toying with them before leaning in to lick them, and giggled with amusement when his dick sprang high enough to smack against her backside.

“Fuck, baby, feel what you do to me?” Joe hissed, his cock jumping again as her mouth warmed his neck, nibbling on the shell of his ear as she whispered to him in the softest, deadliest timbre: 

"I’m just getting started, big guy."

Sitting upright on top of him, she reached for the ice bucket, scooping out an ice cube in the shape of an exquisite diamond. The ravenous look in Joe’s eyes matched hers as she sipped on the cube, letting the cold melt on her tongue and travel down her throat. Then, she bent down and kissed him, her cold tongue quickly warming up from the heat of his mouth. The wet muscles moved together in a sweet dance, delightedly intertwining, obsessed with the taste of each other. Kat pressed the ice cube to his chest, giggling when he jerked from the cold, and drew figure eights with it, watching rivulets of water trickle down the sides of his body. She put the ice cube on his right nipple and watched it harden. Then she replaced the ice with her warm mouth on his cold nipple.

“Shit, baby you killin’ me,” he moaned, looking on with hooded eyelids as she kissed down his body. She stopped between his legs, bowing her body in front of his erection, long and thick and hard, precum glistening on his slit. Her tongue darted out to taste it, licking her lips with pleasure. Giving him a sly wink, she took the tip of his dick in her mouth and sucked, winding her tongue around the head like a hungry snake. The moan that escaped his lips was needy and borderline painful, causing her eyes to light up in triumph. 

“When I get my hands on you…” he growled, his expression almost pissed, but Kat knew better. His frustration mingled with his lack of control, control she’d taken from him all day by calling the shots from his travel to the food he ate. The sensual power play continued as she massaged his dick, the thick velvety flesh twitching in her hands as his hands twitched in his makeshift binds. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked up and down his shaft, making slurping sounds that were drowned out by his groans as she spread her saliva all over his dick. She was addicted. He tasted so good and she craved to have her fill.

Putting a smaller ice cube in her mouth, she chewed it, crushing the ice with her teeth. From there, she hugged his dick with her lips, dousing the heat of his flesh with the coldness of her throat. Tiny bits of ice melted against his shaft as she sucked and tongued every inch of him. She could feel his chest heaving and his abs crunching, could hear his strangled moans as he got warmer and got harder in her mouth. He was right where she wanted him. Resting her weight on his burly thighs, she moaned to him to let go, and smiled when seconds later a shout burst from him, his hips arching off the bed as he unloaded down her throat. She drank her fill of him, glancing up to watch the pleasure ravage his huge body, giving a little smile as he floated down back to earth. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his body jerking when she pulled away, letting his dick, slick with her spit and his cum, plop down on his thigh. With one more long, soft kiss to his length, she slithered back up his body, pressing her lips to his for a sweet, delicate kiss which heavily contrasted with the heaviness of his dick brushing along her now-wet opening. Pleasing him turned her on in a way her notoriously composed self could never comprehend.

“You came so hard for me, baby. The look on your face was everything,” Kat gifted him a teasing lash of her tongue against his as she ran her hands up his arms to toy with the sheer material holding him hostage. Lifting her body up, she slowly sank down on his dick, a gasp slipping from her when the smooth tip pierced through her soft, slick folds, enabling her to wind her hips to take him all the way in. They both moaned as the thickness of him nudged her sweet spot, coaxing a whine out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting him close, making out with him while slowly rocking her body back and forth, grinding her clit on him. It stunned her to this day, how she was able to take him all, his length and girth filling her and hitting her most sensitive spot right away. The power that coursed through her at making him succumb to her will, no different from any pinning combination or submission move, was intoxicating. Her moans and his groans reverberated through the bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sex as she loved on him.

“Untie me. Now,” Joe commanded out of nowhere, the roughness of his tone surprising Kat. One look at the power and pleasure on his beautiful face told her he was not taking no for an answer. Obediently, she  reached up and unraveled the underwear from around his wrists, and she had barely tossed it aside when his hands came around her, finding her backside and thrusting deeper into her. Finally, he could touch her the way he wanted. He loved her ass, enjoyed the feel of it gyrating against his palms. He landed a heavy-handed slap on it, making her burrow her face in his neck with a soft cry, the sound growing more desperate as his fingers caressed the supple flesh of her ass while grinding up into her, making her feel so good.

“Such a badass bitch, yet so weak for me. Weak for this dick,” he purred to her with a kiss to her shoulder. The wicked gleam in his eyes had Kat both frustrated and aroused, but the unmistakable glimpse of lust clouding those eyes showed he was just as weak for her. With every downward motion of her hips, she could see him become more mesmerized, his breaths huskier, his face contorting with unbridled bliss as her pussy squeezed his length in deep, throbbing pulls. Sensing him trying to regain control, she beat him to it, pushing up and steadying herself on top of him. With both hands planted on his strong chest, she adjusted her legs in a squat and began bouncing on his dick, up and down, fucking him, taking from him what she wanted, giving him what he needed. 

“Fuck, that’s it, kitten, ride the shit outta my dick,” Joe groaned, his huge hands now clamped around her waist. “I’m here now, baby. I gotchu. Take it out on me, take all that stress out on me.” It was a wonder to watch her, her knees up and wide apart, treating him to the sight of her moist flesh gliding all the way down his turgid flesh and back up, leaving the base of his dick a wet, slippery mess. It looked incredible and felt even better. “You so wet for me, baby girl,” he rasped, reaching up to massage her bouncing breasts. “I love it when you use me. You love using Daddy’s big dick, huh?”

"Yes, Daddy I love it...Shiiit, oh my goddd!" Kat threw her head back, her moans shaky, her body trembling on top of him as waves of ecstasy washed over her thanks to the orgasm wracking her from head to toe.  

“Unnhh yeah, come for Daddy, come on my dick,” he moaned back to her, his full lips parted and panting, his eyes boring into hers as he watched her come undone. Overcome with passion, he sat upright and tugged her flush against him, his breath hitching as the action sank him even deeper into her. He needed to hold her to him, needed to make her all his. “I ain’t pullin’ out,” he announced, moving her on him again, “I'ma come all up inside you, baby.”

His words sank in, but any coherent answer she had disappeared with another rake of his dick against her g-spot. Wordlessly, Kat snuggled into his warm embrace, locking her arms and legs around him as she continued to grind on him in a deliciously erotic rhythm. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Joe planted a big kiss upon her throat, her jaw, then her lips, enjoying the taste of her moans as his hips rolled along with hers like a choreographed dance. Emotions were high as they joined as one, surrounded by the sounds of the newfound love they were finally expressing to each other. The mattress bounced beneath them, the legless bed rocking in tune with their heated bodies rocking on top of it. Every worry they had was gone and replaced with a hunger and need for the other that they both knew they would never be able to satiate.

"I love you," Joe whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes to gaze into them.

“I love you too, baby...oh fuck,” Kat panted, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip his ass as she bucked her hips like a mad woman. Joe moved with her, not missing a single beat. His own release was building fast within him, too fast. The blood was pounding in his head and tightening his balls as her pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was having a hard time catching his breath. They soon realized they were climaxing together, both shaking from the intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. Kat’s toes curled into the sheets as she felt his warm fluid gushing into her pussy just like he wanted, felt his body pulse as hard as his dick pulsing deep inside of her. No piece of music, no music video she created could ever compare to the magic she made with this incredible man, ever be as beautiful as the sight of his face scrunching up helplessly as his orgasm consumed him. So she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, watching all the emotions sweep his gorgeous visage like an unforgettable movie. 

An eternity later, their movements slowed, their breathing calmed, their hearts racing as one as the world returned to normal. Joe felt light as air as he fell back onto the bed, Kat melting into him with her head on his chest, where his heart beat for her. He was still inside her and she kept him there, wanted to be filled with all his love in the very best way.

“Welcome home, my love,” she giggled, soothed by his own throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed her forehead. She wished she could bottle the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his soft lips, bottle this very moment forever.

“Glad to be home, my love,” he answered, his fingers caressing her back as he kissed her mouth. “I can tell my time in L.A. is gonna be fun.”

"Mm-hmm. We got all week, Daddy," Kat eyed him with a sly smile, tracing her manicured index finger along his tattooed pectoral, "Like I said, we're just getting started."

THE END.

--------------

A/N: This is the only story I've had the energy to complete. I'd love to know your thoughts!

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