#bucks night limo

[hummerhire]

[eupheme]

— drive me crazy

[part ii of trouble will find me] | [masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 4.6k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, multiple pov, flirting, forbidden relationship, masturbation, light panty kink, poor professional relationships, making out, car oral (m) sex, come swallowing

It’s a bad idea to get involved with your bodyguard, you both know that. But you certainly don’t care, not after knowing how he feels inside you. Leaving you wanting more.

And with the way he watches you, you think Logan must feel the same. So when an opportunity arises where you’re left alone in the limo - you can’t help nudging at him, once more.

It’s worth the extra ten minutes of discomfort to see the shocked look on your face when he leaves you at your door. 

The held breath that turns into a pout when he leans close, only to open the handle behind you. A tilt of his head - a silent command that you enter. 

You move past the threshold - only for your frown to deepen, when he lingers in the doorway. 

“Aren’t you going to come in?” It’s soft, and he ignores the way it makes his cock twitch. 

Logan’s arms cross over his chest, a lift of his brow.

“Got what you wanted, didn’t you?” He points out, “Said you’d listen.”

Your mouth drops open in indignation and for a brief moment, he imagines what you offered him. 

Imagines slipping his fingers against your tongue again - the warm and wet suck, the press of lips that he now knows are so fucking soft.

“I wanted you.” 

He almost expects you to stamp your foot. 

“Already told you, sweetheart.” Logan steps back, fingers curling around the knob. The door swinging shut, with the murmur of his voice, “‘s not a good idea.”

Not looking back, as he takes the path to his room. 

Not about to admit that you’ve always had him. 

Logan’s barely kicked off his boots, flopped down onto the bed before the goddamn phone is ringing.

He debates not answering it - something far more pressing on his mind. But he knows it will only end with a knock on his door, and an even greater inconvenience. 

“Yes?” It’s barked into the receiver.

Cradled against his ear, as a hand snakes down to palm himself. Fingers yanking at the silver buckle, loosening his belt.

A sharp voice answers, not bothering with a greeting.

They both know who it is. 

“Late night. Shouldn’t you be back already?”

Logan fucking hates the check-ins. Another notch tightening in the collar, already wound around his throat. 

“She felt like staying out.” It’s gritted out - just barely managing to filter out the heavy edge of annoyance.

“It’s your job to keep an eye on her-”

Bodyguard. Not a babysitter. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. His hand fishing into his pocket instead - tugging out the lace as your father rambles on about the importance of an early morning for whatever bullshit breakfast you’re getting dragged off to tomorrow.

An inhale, as he presses your panties against his nose. His groan near-silent, mind wandering back to the feeling of you coming around his fingers. 

“-Logan. You listening?”

He bites back the growl, “Yes, sir. Early start tomorrow.”

The honorific is acid on his tongue - but if it gets your pathetic excuse of a father off the phone, he’ll endure it. 

Only needs a thousand more bucks to get his bike out of the impound. A couple more to make the repairs and settle his debt - and then he is out of there.

Logan slams the receiver down the second he’s dismissed. A lift of his hips, shoving down his jeans. Not bothering to fully kick them off - he’ll do that later.

Too focused on the ache. A rumbled-out groan when his hand wraps around his cock, a rough thumb smearing the precum across the tip. 

Inhaling you again, as he starts to stroke. It surrounds him, the soft musk that clings to the fabric. To his palm, where to you leaked against his skin - a low jolt in his belly, as he finally takes care of himself.

A sweep of his tongue against the gusset. It’s fucking filthy - how he laps at your arousal like a dog, but no one has to fucking know but him. 

Hips rocking up to match the jerk of his fist. It’s all too dry. Impossible to imagine the soft clutch of your cunt when all he has is the calloused texture of his palm. 

How wet you were, and he barely had even touched you. How you practically begged for him to fuck you, offered to get on your pretty little knees for him. 

Logan’s breath hitches, air inhaled through clenched teeth. Only a heartbeat passing before he’s wrapping the scrap of lace around his cock.

Smearing himself with spit and your slick. Teeth bared as his fist curls around the head - on another night, he’d be annoyed about how fucking close he is already.

That it’s a little bit pathetic, what he’s doing. 

But right now, he’s only thinking about you. 

Picturing the way he’d fit in your mouth, how your lips would wrap around him. The pinch of your eyes as you struggle to take him - he knows you’d try. 

That you love a challenge, and it only makes his cock jump in his hand. 

Doing this so he doesn’t stomp right down the hall, shoulder your door open. Fuck you into the mattress, hard enough that he’d see your legs wobbling the next day.

Doesn’t need the mess in his life, shit is complicated enough as is. Just needs to keep his dick in his pants long enough to get his bike fixed, and get out of here.

Doesn’t need to stir things up by fucking the bosses daughter, either. He’d endure what was thrown at him, he always had, but to take on a mob family just for a girl-

The pressure mounts, coiling tight. His eyes half-lidded, lips parted as the air hissed between his teeth.

Again, and again. His mind fixed on You, you, you - and then he’s there - something ragged caught in his throat as he spills with a grunt against the lace. Soaking the fabric with each pump of his fist, wringing out his orgasm as it scorches through him.

Just barely able to hold back the sharp poke of bones between his knuckles, threatening to tear through skin. 

Leaving him panting, eyes fixed on the ceiling above. His conviction leaches from him, because Logan is now certain of one thing - as his chest heaves. 

Your underwear is a mess - the fabric stained dark, where he’s already soaking in. 

He’s fucked.

It’s been four days of Logan doing everything to avoid being alone with you - all while being closer than he’s ever been.

Conversations are short. Gritted out, all while the familiar weight of his gaze still settles on you. Logan’s constant steady presence as the days pass, hip cocked as he watches from the corner of a room. 

That mark between his brow deepening, as if he’s trying to settle something in his mind. 

It’s maddening. 

How he’s trying to convince himself of what he told you. Betrayed by the moments when you come together. A hand at your back to guide you through the door in front of him, his palm dipping low.

The jolt that rocks through you, an inhale that surely he must hear, when he passes you something in the dining room that you couldn’t quite reach - fingers brushing. 

Orbiting around each other, neither one quite daring to move first. 

The hunger that simmers, when his eyes are not hidden away.

Even now you can feel them. 

Dark eyes behind gold-tinted sunglasses. A lean as he waits - the buttons on his dress shirt popped, thighs spread as he fills the corner of the bench in the foyer. 

Could swear you see them narrow, when you glance his way. Half-way across the room, a distance that’s become familiar when the house is quiet. 

Unable to let your eyes dip, for just a second. Down to linger at the dark shadow of hair at his chest, and then to the tight pull of his trousers. 

The edges of his lips curl, when he catches you. A lift of his hips, as his thighs inch wider.

Impossible. 

A sniff, as you pivot - facing away from him.

It’s not that he turned you down. Or that he seems set on taunting you.

And you’re not pouting - just licking your wounds. 

You know it’s a bad idea. Just for once - you find yourself not caring. Stuck in a loop, as you try to figure out if he thinks the same. 

What this game he’s playing means. 

A little shake of your head to clear your thoughts - there’s Better things to think about, after all. 

Things definitely more important than the way his mouth felt on yours. The way his fingers stretched you out - how full he made you feel. 

How you haven’t been able to come close, with your own. Working between your thighs, only to feel a weak echo compared to tremor that wracked through your core at his touch.

It’s definitely not what you’re thinking about now - eyes drifting over the program for tonight’s dinner. Another charity event, where you’ll be paraded in front of countless socialites and politicians.  

All in the pocket of your family. In your father’s. 

The apple of his eye. Another reminder of a good daughter you are, to support him like this. 

A leg jiggling as you wait, one crossed over the other. Waiting for your driver, but as time ticks by, it becomes evident that Johnny seems nowhere to be found.

The jiggle becomes a tap of your foot. Impatience lacing through you, adding to the keyed-up feelings you’ve carried since the club.

A hallway door opens - there’s a hushed murmur, as one of your father’s men greets Logan.

You let yourself look, while he’s distracted. A brief reprieve, letting yourself want.

He looks good. The shirt pulls tight across his chest. A jacket laid out on the bench beside him, a tie jammed into the pocket. Cleans up nice, and you have to remind yourself that he’s not doing this for you. 

Just part of the job. 

Quick to bury yourself in your notes again, when he stretches - crossing the room.

“Come on.” His head tilts, expression hidden behind the glasses, “I’m driving you.”

You stand, but your feet stay rooted in place, “Where’s Johnny?” 

Logan sighs, hands on his hips, “Listen, kid. Do you want a ride or what?”

That gets you moving. Crossing the last few steps in front of him, your hands mirroring Logan’s as you peer up at him.

“Kid? What happened to honey?” You coo, as your head tilts, “Or baby?”

His jaw works, tongue trapped between the sharp edge of his teeth. A scowl that’s visible even through the frame of his glasses.

“Just get in the fucking car.”

The ride is short, when Logan’s driving. A short temper and a lead foot do a lot in the busy New York traffic. 

You end up early, the limo idling in the parking garage beneath the hotel. Tucked away in a back corner as Logan argues with one of the attendants - or you assume, with the way his lips pull back over his teeth. 

The sharp gesture of his hands, one lifting to rake through his hair, messing up the tufts.

Before he opens the door, leaning against it.

It’s unfair the way it frames him - shins to chest, your head turning so you don’t stare.

“They’re still getting set up.” Logan growls, “Guess we’re early. Said they need another thirty minutes, at least. Maybe an hour.”

He leans then, a lift of his brow as he waits for your call. 

You can think of a lot of ways to pass the time. But you’re not about to voice any to him.

Going elsewhere - a cafe, even back home - feels pointless. Not enough time to do anything meaningful, not with how you’re already dressed so nicely for the dinner - an elegant dress, heeled shoes. Makeup and hair done just the way you like it. 

Your shoulder lifts. “I’m fine waiting.”

Logan fixes you with a long look, as you drag out your bag - root through it for your planner. Making notes as the door closes. 

Muffled conversation, before he’s climbing back into the driver’s seat.

Your eyes meet twice in the rearview mirror, as the radio plays, winding through sounds. Stevie Nicks, The Stones, Elton John. 

The drum of his fingers against the steering wheel, to a tune that only he can hear. Logan’s cigar and lighter are still tucked in the back console, from the last time you were in the limo.

If he wants it, he can come get it himself. 

But he has more willpower than you, even if his patience wears thin. The music bumped up, when one of your legs crossed over the other. 

Inches of fabric tugged up at your thigh, baring skin.

That weight settles over you again, though his head does not turn your way.

Eventually - you cannot help but to voice the question you’ve been carrying. To slice through the silence and tension, thick in the air. 

“Are you going to give them back?”

That gets his attention - the slightest turn of his head. The flicker of an eye that dips across your legs, so quickly you almost miss it.

“Give what back?” He rasps, and your eyes roll.

“You know what, Logan.”

There’s the slight narrowing of his eyes, the barest hint of a smirk, “Mm. Don’t think I do, princess.”

The teasing nickname sinks into your skin, curling in your belly. He’s going to make you say it - spell it out for him. 

You don’t have the same level of bravado bolstered by soft hum of alcohol in your veins, but you still know that something changed, that night in the club.

Your teeth grit, but you hold his gaze, “My panties.”

“That’s what you call those?” His eyebrow arches - a hint of a dimple, “Wasn’t much there, sweetheart.”

The low husk of his voice weaves through you, sending your nerves alight. Encouraged by the back-and-forth volley - how he shifts, granting you his full profile.

“Well, they’re my favorite,” You push - arms crossing just beneath your chest, and you swear his eyes dip again, “What do you need them for, anyways?”

His laugh fills the space - rough and low as it drifts back to you. 

“Your favorite, huh?” The peek of his tongue between his teeth - avoiding your question, “You’re telling me that’s what you wear under all those pretty dresses?”

For a long moment, you hold his gaze. 

A shift of your hips, as your legs uncross. Letting your knees spread - thighs falling open for the briefest second. 

Letting him have a peek at the red silk beneath, before you primly cross your ankles, tucking them against the seat. Your voice pitching low, sweet as honey. 

“Come back here and find out.”

His jaw ticks. 

For a moment, you think you’ve pushed too far. A lead weight left behind, as the embers in your belly start to snuff out. 

But then, there’s the gritted out “fuck it”, as he moves. 

The car goes silent, as his keys slip from the ignition. The creak of the car door - it feels like it takes him an age to cross the steps from the driver’s seat, back to you.

Anticipation palpable, as the door opens. As he folds himself into the backseat - so different than the times before. 

Now, he crowds your space - caging you in. Making up for the days he’s spent apart. 

Despite the seats in front you of the space feels small with him in it, your pulse spiking as the door is tugged shut behind him. 

A heartbeat passes, before you’re meeting him - closing the space. His back pressed against the blue velvet as his hands find your waist, guiding you to him.

Your own tugging at the fabric of your dress - rucking it up to your thighs so you can straddle him. Shins pressing into the seat, as you press down flush against him. 

There’s the click of the door lock, before his mouth tips to yours. A rough sound in his throat as you pick up where you left off - your hands smoothing over the soft fabric of his dress shirt, up to his shoulders.

His slipping from your waist down to your ass. Palming you, tugging you closer until your core rocks against the front of his jeans. 

A hand slipping to cup the back of your head. Keeping you close as a tongue licks across your lower lip, then further when you part. Swallowing your moan as heat floods through you, as you let him deepen the kiss.

As you feel how he stiffens beneath you, trousers pulling tight as your core nudges against the thick curve.

“You need it that bad, baby?” Logan rasps, as you inhale a breath, “Makin’ it really fucking hard to do my job.”

Chasing your mouth, bringing it back to his. It makes you smile, the way he groans when you grind down. 

“Supposed to be keeping an eye on me,” You coo, “Doesn’t this make it easier?”

There’s an inhaled breath between clenched teeth, “Not when I’m too busy looking at you. Driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

Fingers trace against your bare thighs. Beneath the hem of your dress as you moan. The pad of his thumb ghosting against your slit again, low hum as you whine his name.

Letting your hands wander. Tracing over the bulge in his pants. Your palm flattening against him, fingers mapping the curves. 

He growls out a soft warning, “Don’t start what you can’t finish, princess.”

The rough tone of his voice makes you shiver, your fingers flexing, “Should be saying that to you.”

There’s the peek of his teeth as he grins, voice pitching lower. 

“Just trying to warn you, honey.” He croons, “I'm the best there is at what I do, and what I do best isn't very nice.”

Your mouth finds his jaw, as your fingernails tap against the silver buckle, “I know. Why do you think my father hired you?”

He makes a rough noise in his throat, when you tug at his shirt, fingers skating against the bare skin beneath. 

“That what this about?” There’s a sharp edge to his voice now, as your eyes flick back up, “You tryin’ to get back at daddy?”

That makes you scowl. Fingers stilling as your eyebrow arches - pushing yourself back so you can fix him with a look, “What do you think?”

His lips are parted, breath heavy. Those hazel eyes darkened with lust, as he traces the edge of your panties. Slipping beneath soaked-through fabric, tracing against your slick folds. 

“No,” He rasps, “She’s beggin’ for it. Isn’t that right?”

A smirk that turns sharp, as your lips press to his. Mumbled against your mouth, “Know this is all for me.”

“For you.” You agree, as he circles your clit. A slow pressure of his fingers, as your hips cant into his touch. 

Need pulses inside you, low in your belly. That urge to taste him battling with the desire to rut against his fingers. See if he’ll give you more, like last time. 

All too aware of the minutes that tick down. That you’re running on borrowed time, not enough left to do everything you want. 

“Don’t tease, Logan.” You whine, when he keeps up the slow swipe against your skin.

“Tease?” He laughs, tongue peeking out against his lips, “You were the one trying to take someone home. Did you already forget?”

“S not how it went',” You pant, “I remember telling you I didn’t want him.”

He hums, eyes flicking down to the wet peek of your pussy, “Mm, and I remember how sweet you felt coming around my fingers.”

“That, too,” Your breath hitches, “And I remember saying I’d get on my knees for you.”

“Is that what you want?” Logan’s eyes darken, “Still want a taste, baby?”

There’s a whine caught between your teeth. Nodding, as you carefully slip off of his lap and down to the floor, arranging your skirts around you - settling between thighs that inch wider.

Watching the way his hand drops to palms himself, the rough “fuck” that slips from him that sends your heart racing. 

Logan’s always been a big man, but he looks massive when you’re on your knees. The carpet scratches against your shins as you shift - eyes already greedy, fixed on the thick curve you had rubbed yourself on. 

Watching the slow flex of his fingers - the glint of silver on his belt buckle.

The slow unzipping of his trousers, and you swear your mouth waters as all that skin comes into view. Nothing beneath but the dark trail of hair. 

And for the briefest second your eyes flicker out the tinted windows. An unconscious check towards the door set into the parking garage wall, checking before you allow yourself this. 

“Hey. You’ve got time, baby.” He coos - bringing you back, “I’ll keep watch. Keep your eyes right here for me.”

And they do - dropping back down without thought. 

His cock still trapped beneath the fabric, but you can see the vein that travels down from his abdomen, the heavy curve that finally springs free when he lifts his hips.

You can barely bite back the moan of want, your eyes widening. He felt thick beneath your palm but it’s nothing compared to now. The heavy bob of his cock - velvet soft skin that flushes at the glossy tip.  

How his fingers curl around, the lazy flick of his wrist as you shift in front of him. The slight sway as your head follows, a deep flutter in your thoughts as you wonder just how much you’ll be able to take.

Underestimating, in your daydreams. Your lips eagerly parting, as you lean forward. 

His tongue clicks. 

“Greedy girl.” Logan coos, “Hold on. Thought you said you wanted me to show you.”

At your moan he shifts, thighs spreading. Voice pitching low.

“Open.”

Your head tilts - offering your mouth, letting your tongue rest against your teeth. 

Letting him feed his cock to you - tasting the salt that leaks from the head, when it taps against your lip. The low groan that shoots right through you, as he inches into your mouth.

“That’s it.” He husks, “You can take it.”

Your eyes are fixed on his as your jaw opens wider, as he sinks further inside. Fingernails biting into your palms as you try to listen.

“Pretty fuckin’ mouth,” Logan pants, “Good girl.”

A stifled groan, as your head bobs. The eye contact breaking as yours flutter shut, lips closing around him as you start to suck.

You can hear each of his breaths like this, in the quiet car. Rough murmurs of something sweet, held back between clenched teeth.

“Keep going, sweetheart.” He coaxes, thick fingers leaving marks in the velvet - grooves that your own will trace later, on the way home. 

Resisting the urge to bury them in your hair, to urge you down the rest of the way. To palm at your tits, wrinkling the pretty fabric. 

Letting you explore on your own. Letting him slip down your throat until tears prick in your eyes. 

That thin sense of the outside world still keeps you tethered. The mutual knowledge that he can’t use you like you’d both like - until spit drips down your chin, messy and slick, from where it pools on your tongue.

You’re content to trace each vein, instead. To feel the weight as you suck - eyes opening to gauge his expression when your hands finally slip up.

Once bracing on a thigh, the other curling around his base. Stroking what doesn’t quite fit, as he sucks air in through his teeth.

He’s handsome, always. Beautiful like this - eyes burning in the beam of vapor lamp light that streaks through. The pinch of his furrowed brow, but so unlike you’ve seen before.

Looks like he wants to devour you. To tug you up to his lap, bury himself in your wet cunt instead.

You wish he would - another squirm as your thighs press together.

“Feels so good, baby.” Logan rasps. There’s a shallow lift of his hips now. Chasing the rhythm of your hand, the soft suck of your mouth.

The muscles in his thigh flexing beneath your palm, filth slipping from him as he chases the building pressure in his belly.

“God, I want to fuck you,” It’s growled out, and you whine with want, “Been dreaming about tasting you again.”

Again. The taste of your slick on his fingers, pressing against your tongue as he kissed you. An image of his face between your thighs sends a dull throb of need, as you moan around him.  

Logan inhales, as you start to speed up, “Know you need it, honey. Bet you’re soaked through, aren’t you?”

Another whine buzzes around his cock, as he groans, “Take care of you tonight. I’ll, fuck-”

His fingers nudge yours out of the way, fisting around his cock. The other catching your chin, easing you off him. A string of spit connecting you, until it breaks. 

“Shit.” He hisses out, as the tip bobs against your parted lips, “Keep just like that, princess.”

Logan’s thumb presses at your chin, as if there’s anything that would make your move.

Too focused on the way his eyes glint. Honey-gold in the stream of artificial light. The hiss of breath when your tongue peeks out further.

“Gonna take it all, won’t you?” He husks. Tone almost desperate, “Nice and wide now, don’t wanna mess you up.”

You know he’s thinking about it, you’ve thinking about it as well. Running mascara and a lipstick-smeared mouth. 

There’s a rough groan that almost passes as your name, as his hips hitch. Muscles flexing as he spills white ropes across your tongue, with a ragged moan.

“Good fucking girl.”

Your eyes keep on his, as he jerks himself empty. Letting his release pools on your tongue - a soft groan as he shifts, slipping his cock deeper into your mouth.

Eyes finally closing as you suck, his thumb leaving your chin to catch the start of a drop, smearing it across your lip and back between them.

Feeling how you swallow around him. Tongue teasing at his slit, until you’ve taken every drop. 

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes. 

The tension weighs heavy, as your mouth slides from his. 

Logan’s mouth is just beginning to tip towards yours - when there’s the slam of the side door. 

A mutually shared expression, as you begin to scramble. 

Your time is up. 

He stalls for you. 

Grilling the head of security for as long as he can - lip curled as he runs through a list of questions, the picture of professional concern.

It’s all bullshit - they don’t know what they’re doing. Not that it matters - he won’t be more than an arms-length away from you for the rest of the night. 

His fingers tugging at his tie, knotted quickly and too tightly for comfort. The puff of smoke through his cigar, snatched as he slipped from the backseat. 

Unable to help the tilt of his head when you slip from the backseat of the limo - his hand already extended to help you out.

A low throb behind his ribs at the smile you flash his way.

Never would have guessed that his cock was just down your throat, if he hadn’t known better. That you’d taste like him. 

All the evidence neatly tucked away. Hair tidied, your dress tugged back into place. 

But there’s little things he catches. 

A fresh swipe of gloss over your slightly-puffy lips. The color matching the sticky ring around the base of his cock, one that will linger for hours. 

Pupils that still are blown wide and dark. The arousal that clings to you like perfume, heady and sweet. 

The way your eyes flick over him, hungry. A fleeting second before you’re pulled back into your world - a practiced smile curving your lips. 

“Showtime.” You mutter as you take his arm. Following, as he leads you inside, “How do I look?”

The edges of his lips pull up, his voice a low murmur - something just for you to hear.

“Beautiful.”

thank you so much for reading! I keep getting little ideas for them, so I think this is going to be another mini-series (with 4 currently planned parts in total) 💖

[reidsworld]

giving old man!logan head in the limo has me feral. i just know theres a dirty mouth on that man

Warnings… fem!reader, smuttt, praise/degradation, oral sex (m receiving), no use of y/n, pet names (baby, slut), this is VILEE (rlly channeled my inner freak), not proofread lol (icl i wrote this on my phone). — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!!

Mars speaks… old man logan has me in a CHOKEHOLDD

Masterlist | Divider from @/saradika-graphics

You had been teasing Logan all night, testing the limits of his patience with every sly smile, every light touch, every whispered innuendo in his ear. The tension had built between you like a fire ready to ignite, and you knew exactly what you were doing.

Logan’s gaze was dark, his jaw clenched as he shifted in his seat beside you. Finally, with a low, frustrated growl, he turned to you, his eyes blazing. “Fine,” he muttered, voice rough, low, “you wanna act like a little slut, I’ll treat you like one.”

That was how you ended up in the back of his limo, sliding down between his legs, your mouth leaving a trail of kisses along his chest, moving lower…

His voice was a rasp, barely more than a breath as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”

Your trailed your hands over the bulge in his pants, making swift work of pulling them down with his boxers, freeing his achingly hard cock.

While it wasn’t overly long— certainly not a length to be ashamed about— it was thick. His cock had a long vein running down the underside with many smaller veins scattered across it. It twitched desperately in his lap, the sensitive red tip oozing pre-cum.

“Holy shit…”

He let out a low chuckle at your words, clicking his tongue at you, “come on, get to work baby.”

You grinned up at him as you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the tip, making him nearly growl.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.”

Giggling at his words you smile innocently as run your tongue along the slit of his cock. He threw his head back, groaning, his fingers threading themselves through your hair with a tight but gentle grip.

You sunk your head lower, the head disappearing between your lips. He gazed down at you, “look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock like that.”

Your tongue swirled around his cock, cheeks hollowing, and his grip on your hair tightened, “don’t be shy, I know you can handle more.”

He used the grip in your hair to push you down lower. Saliva began to drip down his cock as he filled your mouth. You used it as lube for your hands which found their way to his shaft, slowly stroking and twisting what was not in your mouth.

“Yeah that’s more like it, knew you could do it.”

You moaned around him in response, the vibrations shooting right through his cock, causing his hips to buck. The tip hit the back of your throat making you gag and slightly choke at the protrusion. But this didn’t make him pull back, he was too desperate he couldn’t stop.

“Y’okay, baby?” he asked, slowing the rate his hand was moving your head but not stopping. You tried your best to give a nod. Once he got your confirmation, he stopped his hand movement, gently thrusting his hips upwards into your throat.

He had let you have control for long enough and now he was getting desperate, he couldn’t wait. He gently tapped on the top of your head causing you to look up at him.

“M’gonna fuck your throat now, baby,” he told you and you nodded, your hands moving to grip his thighs. He used his hand to push your head lower before thrusting up into your mouth. He began to build a steady rhythm, his cock going deeper into your throat with each movement.

“So good, haven’t gotten somethin’ this good in a long time ‘nd definitely not from someone as pretty as you,” he praised, his Canadian accent thickening as his pace increased. You moaned at the praise, breathing through your nose as he pushed in further.

Your knees began to ache from being on the limo floor. As he set a brutal pace, it became messier and messier. His cock was now covered in saliva, you makeup was a mess from the small tears that fell each time he hit the back of your throat.

“Y’look so pretty like this, my little slut,” he grunted out as his thumb moved to wipe one of the tears that fell. You smiled around him and looked him in the eyes. His head fell back at the sight around him.

After a few minutes, you could tell by his demeanour and ever-so-slightly slowing pace that he was getting tired. you moved your hands up to his while looking at him in the eyes. You gave him a gentle nod. His grip loosened from your head before he laid further back against the seat, long arms stretching out.

“Just need a little break, you keep going,” he chuckled, muttering something about being old.

You held onto the sides of his thighs as you quickly bobbed your head up and down his cock. You looked up at him, moaning at the sight. He looked so good— head fallen back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, letting out little breaths.

This only spurred you on, taking him as deep as possible over and over again. His cock twitched at the back of your throat, a sure sign that he was getting close. You moved one hand to fondle his balls. You gently massaged them, scratching at his scrotum.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” he breathed out.

You picked up your pace as you felt his balls tighten in your hand. His thighs flexed and his hips bucked as he let out a lewd groan— almost growl of your name. Feeling his hot cum fill your throat, you pressed your head down, nose touching the hair at the base of his cock.

As he came down from his high, you pulled off him and looked up. He looked down at you with a lazy smirk on his face. He reached out his hand, helping you up from the floor before pulling you onto his lap.

His thumb wiped the half-dried tears from your face, his other hand snaking behind your neck and threading into your hair to pull you into a passionate kiss, his beard scratching at your chin.

As the two of you pulled apart, you grinned at him, “think you still have it in you to fuck me, old man?”

Mars speaks… (again) sorry if this is a bit of a mess, it’s like 1:30 in the morning rn and i wrote this instead of sleeping. any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

[ghostlywhiskey]

ask: what do you think the wedding night with price was like?

so glad you asked anon 🤍

once the reception came to an end, you and price were off in the limo back to the hotel after you had said your goodbyes to everyone. thanking them for coming and exchanging 'i love yous' with the ones closest to you.

with the keycard in price's hand that was picked up earlier this morning, the two of you walk down the hallway with hands locked. price a few steps ahead as you let him lead the way, his other hand using two fingers as a hook for your heels that were removed in the elevator. your own free hand tugging your dress up slightly as you keep up with price to make sure you don't trip on the fabric.

price inserts the card into the slot when you both approach the door, pushing the handle down to open it as he places a hand on your back to guide you into the room first. the lights flicker on, showcasing the table in the entryway decorated with petals, chocolates and champagne accompanied with two glasses. he drops your shoes by the door, hands grabbing at your waist. "sweet, but it can wait." he mumbles, giving you a quick peck on the lips before he's pulling you to the bedroom.

no time is wasted with him and as quickly as you got into the room was as quick as the two of you undressed each other. the only article left covering you was white panties, price's finger hooking around the waistband near your hip. "don't know why you bothered wearing these tonight." his face hovering right above yours as he looks in your eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips.

smiling back at him in return, your hands reach up to his face as you tug him closer to you. "and have nothing prevent me leaking down my thighs?" your tone innocent, but the words making price's eyes widen. his index finger unhooking from panties so he can move his thumb to brush against the fabric covering your folds. the tip of his thumb met with the soaked fabric.

"you've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me." he mutters, looking back at you and pressing his lips against yours. grabbing your hands away from his face, he moves them above your head before he's sitting up to grab at the panties. sliding the panties down your thighs, he positions your legs back against your stomach so he can pull them off easily as they get to your ankles. when they are finally off, his hands move back to the top of your thighs before dragging them down to your knees to push your legs apart. his body comfortably adjusting so his face is now inches from your folds. lips kissing your inner thighs as he glances up at you. "still gotta get you ready even though you seem to have taken care of that." he chuckles, the kisses getting closer until his lips press against your heat.

"you should wear a suit more often." you murmur, glancing down at him as his lips press against you. a soft hum leaving your body as you shift, his hands grabbing at your thighs to secure you in place.

his tongue glides from the bottom to the top, pushing pressure against your clit as he swirls a few times before giving a gently suck. "such an easy girl, just me in a suit gets you dripping?" his mouth moving against you as he speaks, muffling him slightly. nodding in agreement, your eyes close as you grab the pillow behind your head. but the action makes price grip your thighs harder, "use your words."

"yes, but the fact your," your words stopped short as they are replaced by a moan when his tongue pushes between your folds, causing your hips to buck up from the bed. one hand grabbing your thigh reaches to press down on your lower abdomen, forcing your hips back down on the bed. "oh fuck." you cry, eyes opening to try and look at him. his focus strictly on your already soaked cunt as his eyes are closed, brows furrowed together. when he pulls back, that's when his eyes make contact with yours, "you were saying?"

cheeks flushed, you watch as he moves back up to hover over your body. "but the fact your my husband now is what got me." the words a whisper as you admit them, price smiling before he kisses you. the lingering taste of yourself mixed with his saliva infiltrating your mouth.

"mhmm, so you'll be dripping for the rest of your life." positioning himself, the tip of his cock gliding between your folds as it coats it with your slick. his hips pushing forward to slide into you, your walls immediately clenching around him. "oh, fuckin'ell." the feeling making his brain go numb for a second, causing him to stay still inside you.

"please, please." the begging bringing him back, your hands grabbing at his biceps that flex under your grasp as they position on either side of your body for support.

"good girl, keep beggin' me. such a good wife already." one hand reaching to grab at your neck, gentle pressure as he squeezes. the coldness of the wedding band against your skin makes you shiver slightly. "who do you belong to?" the question an easy one, but a whimper is your response before you can get words out.

your fingers wrap around the wrist of the hand that squeezes your neck, eyes looking up at him. "john price." you manage to choke out, mouth drying as you try to pull in breaths.

"atta girl." he mumbles, releasing the grasp on your neck as his hand grabs at your face instead before pressing his lips on yours. "and now you have the same last name as the person you belong to." speaking the words against your mouth, your hands grabbing at his face.

[carbonfiction]

Thinking so heavily about logan and a pain kink.. I mean.. We've all seen the clip of him puttin the cigar and on his palm, eyes rolling in his head.. So why not.. Expand it little.. With the addition of oldman!Logan

When needs must..

Warnings: 18+ topics,older!logan,male masturbation, pain kink?, burns? (Putting a cigar out on himself),swearing (its logan..) mentions of bodily fluid (cum) thinkkk thats it? Not proofread and thrown together..

Masterlist

words: 428

Thinking about old man Logan sitting back in his limo seat in some dark dimly lit ally. Its quiet, empty this time of night so much so that; for a moment.. he briefly wonders if he would care if it wasnt so quiet.

If the place was busy and there was a pretty young thing lookin to help an old dog like him out.

Reaching into the glovebox and lighting up a cigar, the smoke flurries out of the cracked window. The taste sits rich and heavy on his tongue. He didn't care much for smoking inside the beatup car but.. Needs must.

Beneath his dress trousers Logans cock sits heavy in his pants. A bruised hand feeling over the swelling buldge of himself with a groan.. Its been a while.. Perhaps too long since hes let himself go. Let himself actually take some time alone.

He works his belt and fly with another inhale of the tobacco between his teeth and it doesnt take long before his lower clothing drops around his ankles in the footwell. He hisses a sound that sounds roughly like the word "fuck" through his teeth, cock in hand, precum slicking the flushed and throbbing head of himself.

He breathes heavy, well.. Heavier than he'd like for simply rubbing one out in his car, as he groans, grunts and grumbles at the friction. Cigar bitten against his teeth, one hand working quick and tight up and down his shaft.

Its quick and uncaring, desperate and futile.

Smoke bellows toward the window again, this time ash falling from the cigars end. It lands hot on his arm, still slightly alight. Logan groans. A deep rumble in his battered chest.

His aching hips buck at the feeling, the momentary spark of pain drawing his cock into his hand faster as he spits down, narrowly missing the hair of his greying beard. His motions speed up, lubricated in a lewd mix of spit and pre, balls tight with the need to cum.

Logan barley thinks about his actions as he pulls the cigar end from his mouth, the tips' embers burning muted reds and oranges inside the wrapping.

The cigars end meets logans thigh, burning and sharp as he presses it into his marred skin. Moments later his eyes roll back in his head, cum coating his hand in hot spirts.

He hisses between his teeth, loud and throaty streams of vulgarity slipping through his lips. "Fu-fuck, fuck, fuckkkk" The final sound drawn out and rumbling from his chest with a growl.

When needs must..

[firewasabeast]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[cranberrymoons]

a street light shining

prompt: breeding kink (kinktober), rockstar/confident (@eddiemonth) tags: rated e (18+), limo sex, banter, and steve in lingerie 😇

—

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Eddie is on him, crowding up into Steve’s space and pulling him into his lap, hands spreading out over his hips to pull them flush together as Steve comes up to straddle him, hands braced on his shoulders.

“So fucking hot,” Eddie says, words muffled against his mouth. “God, want – wanted to fuck you right there in front of everyone. Let them know you’re mine.”

Steve groans against him, head swimming with it, with Eddie and the champagne that’s been flowing all night and the heady scent of expensive cologne, the hips against his and the hands sliding over the smooth lines of his suit.

“You’re going to take me back home,” Steve gasps. “And you’re going to take me upstairs, and you’re –”

“Baby,” Eddie says, teeth dragging over his lip. Steve chases after his mouth, mindless with it, aching, running his tongue over the edge of Eddie’s smile. “Baby, baby, baby.” Soft and sweet and buzzing with it. “I just won a fucking Grammy. I’m going to fuck you right here in the back of this limo.”

His hands push up under the back of Steve’s suit jacket, spanning out over his shoulders and down his arms to help shimmy it off of him, then back to his waist to ruck up the hem of his shirt, untucking it from the closely-tailored pants that he’d been all but sewn into by their stylist earlier in the night.

“You’re –” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rocking closer against him as Eddie’s fingers start to fumble with his buttons. “What, you’re going to knock me up like a prom date?”

Eddie’s breath comes sharp and sudden and all at once, hips bucking up under Steve with enough force that it almost unseats him, sending him sideways into the window. Steve catches himself with a hand against the glass as the car pulls away from the curb and begins inching into the line of traffic leaving the venue, and he lets out a little laugh, planting his knees more firmly on the seat on either side of Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah?” he asks, settling down until he feels the hard line of Eddie’s cock straining up to press against him. “You want to get me pregnant?”

Eddie laughs too, tilting his head back to press a kiss to Steve’s lips, sticky and sweet. “Don’t know if I can actually do that.”

“You’re a Grammy winner now,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows teasingly. “You can do whatever you want.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow at him, flashing under the passing glare of a streetlight. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Steve hums. “That I want to have super weird sex with you in the back of this limo?” He sways forward for another kiss. “Absolutely.”

[continue on ao3 || 2,898 words]

[marvelobsessed134]

Love me tender part four: the wedding

Series masterlist

A/n: ahhh the finale of this little series! I loved writing this a lot and I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Pairings: 60s!rockstar!bucky x innocent!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, Bucky cums inside reader, old fashioned ideals, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, Bucky isn’t entirely truthful, praise, reader is small/short sorry not sorry, Bucky is huge (but you already knew that), Bucky calls reader “little one” once

The day finally has arrived, your wedding day to Bucky Barnes. You can’t believe you are soon-to-be-Mrs. Barnes, but it’s happening.

Your bridesmaids-friends from school along with two of your cousins-helped you get get into your dress, do your hair and makeup, and get your veil on.

Your dress was a long white dress with a train and long sleeves. You wore a tiara with a veil attached to it and your hair large and makeup light but still dramatic.

You looked absolutely stunning, and you realized that as you stared into the mirror in the room of the church.

“Are you ready, Y/n?” One of your friends asked excitedly and you nodded with a soft smile.

You clutched your bouquet in your hands as you walked to meet your father. “Are you ready honey?” He asked.

“Yes daddy.” You responded and took his arm. You waited until your bridesmaids and the flower girl made their way down the isle before the classic “here comes the bride” piano music started playing and you started to walk down the aisle.

Everyone stood up, admiring you. You looked just like a little doll. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you walked down the aisle. Finally, you made it to the end.

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes-you did as much as you could because your face was covered by the veil-as the officiant started his speech.

You exchanged your rings and vows.

“And with the power invested in me and the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Bucky lifted your veil and dipped you, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. Everyone clapped and cheered. The two of you pulled apart and smiled.

Then you ran out of the chapel into the limo to go to the reception that was being held at Bucky’s mansion.

Bucky couldn’t help but start kissing your neck and letting his hand slide up your dress. “I’ve been wantin’ to see and play with this pussy since I saw you, darlin’.” He husked.

You giggled and moaned at the same time, “You can’t yet, Buck. we’re on our way to the reception.”

“But tonight we will right? You’ll give yourself to me?”

“Yes Bucky.”

“That’s a good girl.”

The two of you made it to the reception and everyone was already inside. He picked you up bridal style and walked through the front doors into the living room where everyone was gathered. Once everyone saw the large man carry in your smaller frame, the cheered and congratulated you.

You smiled, giggled, and blushed at all the attention. Bucky set you down and you dusted off your dress. Everyone wanted you to get pictures so you stood in front of the cake under a beautiful arch.

Flashes of cameras filled your vision but you stayed with a smile. Bucky looked so proud to have you on his arm, by his side.

Then you cut the three tiered cake, it had little statues of you guys on the top which you found adorable.

You and your new husband sat at the table and fed the cake slices to each other, while everyone else dug in the food and cake.

The reception was filled with laughter, dancing, and alcohol.

Later in the night the guests began to bid their goodbyes and it was just you and Bucky left in the big house.

The rockstar carried you upstairs and into his bedroom where he carefully laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you before moving down to your neck. You moaned as you experienced this sensation you’ve never felt before.

You sat up so he could unzip your dress and he carefully pulled it down revealing your white lace lingerie. “So fucking beautiful.” The rockstar muttered. You felt his bulge on the inside of your crotch.

The brunette unclasped your bra and pulled it off, groaning at the sight of your perky breasts and nipples. His large hands groped them, squeezing the soft flesh and toying with your nipples. You arched your back and moaned as he played with your tits.

Bucky took a nipple into his mouth and bit and sucked on the sensitive bud. You threaded your fingers through his hair. You felt yourself get more and more wet as he continued.

The older man kissed down your body before reaching your garter belt and panties. He left the garter and stockings on but took your panties off and Bucky swore he could’ve creamed his pants right there at the first sight of your wet, needy pussy.

“Spread your legs for me darlin’.” He commanded and you obediently spread your legs. ‘I’ve trained her well.’ He thought to himself before licking a bold stripe against your pussy. You gripped his hair and moaned, startled a bit by the sensation. Your tiara and veil were still secured on your head and that’s what made this even better for Bucky. Him eating out his new bride.

He continued to eat you out, sucking on your clit making your clench your legs around his head as your cried out in pleasure, your mascara and eyeliner running down your face as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum, Bucky!” You cried.

“Go ahead and cum for me honey.’” The rockstar spoke against your cunt with his mouth still attached to your clit making vibrations go throughout your body and your vision going white for a moment as you released your arousal all over your husbands face.

“Good girl oh fuck you taste so good!” He groaned licking everything up immediately as if it was his last meal.

Once he had successfully cleaned you up, he instructed you to rest on one of the pillows. You watched as he began to strip out of his suit, and finally, his boxers revealing his hard leaking cock.

Your eyes widened at the size…that was supposed to go inside you?

Bucky must’ve sensed your fear and crawled on top of you, his cock barely touching your still soaked folds. He caressed the side of your face, “It’s gonna be okay little one. It’ll hurt for a moment but it’s gonna feel real good okay?” You nodded but you wondered if he had done this before? He seemed so experienced.

He lined himself up carefully before slowly entering into you. You hissed in pain but he hissed in pleasure. The feeling of your tight velvety walls clenching around his large cock made him almost cum right then and there.

“Bucky…” you hissed.

“It’s okay sweet girl just relax. You’re all tensed up it’s not gonna feel good if you’re not relaxed.”

You took a a deep breath in and relaxed yourself. You suddenly felt pleasure inside of your body and you were desperate for your husband to move. “Please Bucky…you can move now.”

Those four words were music to the brunettes ears as he began to thrust inside of you. He rolled his eyes back and gripped your hips which was bound to leave bruises but he couldn’t care less as he fucked into you and watched your face contort.

“Oh Bucky!” You cried and pawed at his shoulder.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this. My pretty wife.” He grunted as he continued to fuck you, reaching his peak. You felt him pulsating inside you before he released his load deep inside your cunt.

“Ohhhh fuck.” Bucky moaned with a roll of his eyes.

He pulled out of you and rolled on his back before pulling you to rest your head on his chest. He pulled off your tiara and veil and threw them carelessly on the nightstand.

The rockstar stroked your hair and breathed deeply as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I love you baby.” He whispered

“I love you too Bucky.”

[fettuccin-e]

omg congrats!!! can you do “for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.” with jake lockley?

thank you my love!! yeah,, getting fingered by any of the moon boys?? i mean, ive got two words: thick. fingers. so yes!!! also, jake lockley can dance. thank u and goodnight

In The Rearview

Tags: Jake Lockley x Reader, afab!fem!reader, fingering, dangerous driving habits, very VERY light degradation

Jake loves to take you dancing. There’s nothing in this world quite like seeing the excitement in your eyes when he tells you to wear your best dress, that he’s taking you out of the town to dance the night away until your cheeks are red and your feet ache. There’s nothing quite like your laughter as he spins you around before dipping you to the floor, your nails digging into his back, even though you know he’d never drop you. His alters definitely aren’t ones for dancing, but Jake would dance with you every night if he could.

Jake loves going dancing with you, truly, but the best part of the night is always the end. Pressing you against his chest, gripping your hips and grinding your pretty ass against him, tucking his face in the crook of your neck to suck tiny bruises into your skin. He loves feeling you shiver against his front while he whispers everything he wants to do to you in your ear. Telling you how sexy you are in your pretty dress, how he wants your heels to stay on while he fucks you when you both get home. You’re soaked in your panties, and Jake knows it. 

“Are you going to let me take you home, amor?” he whispers, as if he even has to ask. As if you both weren’t going back to sleep in the same bed anyway. As if you’d ever refuse him.

You moan softly and nod, and you feel Jake’s smug smile against your sweaty skin, before he’s wrapping a strong arm around your waist and leading you to the door. He opens the door to the limo for you, helping you into the passenger seat. Ever the gentleman.

Your apartment, one you had bought together with your boys, sits just a little outside the city. Quieter, neighbors less nosy, less street vendors lingering outside the door. You love your home, except on nights like these, where you just need one of your boys inside you as soon as possible. You settle in for the thirty minute drive, trying not to think about the aching between your thighs, but Jake is ravenous. He settles a calloused hand against your thigh, running it just under your dress. You spread your thighs slowly, trying to be subtle. But Jake notices. He always does.

“You want me to touch you, princesa?” Jake says, chucking slightly, the smug bastard that he is.

“You know I do,” you whine, half annoyed and half absolutely desperate. Jake reaches just a little farther lower, running a finger over the thin material of your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked through the lace. Your hips buck when he presses a harsh finger to your clit, a choked gasp escaping your throat.

“Dios, baby,” Jake grunts, the hand he has on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white. “That needy, huh?”

“Always,” you sigh, “Always for you.” You watch Jake’s jaw clench, and nearly cry when he takes his hand away from your clothed pussy.

“Take your panties off and spread your legs,” he grunts, leaving no room for argument. You lift your hips off the leather seat to drag your panties off your legs, toeing your heels off to take them all of the way off. You glance at Jake, his eyes still trained on the road ahead, and, perhaps against your better judgment, drape your panties across his lap.

“Amor,” Jake mutters through clenched teeth. “I will pull this car over, I swear to God.”

“What’s stopping you, baby?” you ask sweetly, taunting him, goading him.

“Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out, and I’m not carrying your fucked-out body up the stairs to our apartment.” He speaks like he’s threatening you, as if your cunt isn’t clenching around the suddenly unbearable emptiness inside you. He slides his hand back over your thigh, calloused fingers finally connecting with your hot pussy. He slides a quick finger inside of you, crooking it hard until you’re gasping out a choked little moan. The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit, and your hand flies up to grab at his wrist.

“Jake, fuck, oh Jesus,” you stutter over your words, unable to from a sentence at the sudden intrusion. Jake ignores you, sliding a second finger deep into you, right alongside the first. His fingers are thick, far thicker than yours, stretching you out. You can feel the sticky juices of your cunt dripping down, down onto the once-pristine leather of the seat. Your thighs are trembling, bucking into Jake’s hand. You gaze up at your boyfriend through glassy eyes, greeted with the sight of his strong jaw illuminated by the streetlights through the window.

His eyes are trained unwaveringly on the road, and he looks almost unaffected by what he’s doing to you. Almost. But you notice the clench in his jaw, and with a quick once-over of his body, drawn tight with tension, the thick bulge in his slacks.

You reach a hand over to palm at him, but his gruff voice stops you. “If you fucking touch me right now, princesa, you won’t cum for a fucking week.” Your hand snaps away immediately.

“Good girl, hermosa,” he mutters. You want to scream as he plays with the spongy spot inside your pussy. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers, and get you ready for my cock. You’re going to fucking take it, alright? You’re going to cum all over my fingers, and then, when you’re done, I’ll take you inside and fuck this pretty pussy. Am I clear?”

You nod, but Jake isn’t looking. You murmur out a soft, “yes,” and Jake grins. You barely have a moment to think before he’s jamming a third finger inside you and begins to hammer them into your pussy, harsh and unrelenting. He fucks you deep on his fingers, his palm continuing to press into your clit. Your thighs are shaking, hips twitching like you can’t decide if you’re trying to get away or get closer to Jake’s unrelenting thrusts.

You’re whining needily, and Jake’s gruff voice fills the car, unable to hold his words back when he’s got you at his mercy like this. 

“You’re so pretty, amor. Can’t wait to get you on my cock when we get home. You’re gonna be all stretched out, bebita, this sweet pussy is just gonna let me sink right in, yeah? Steven and Marc want a turn too, they think you look so pretty. They can fucking see you, you know.”

Your eyes snap up to the rearview mirror, meeting Jake's eyes for the first time since he got you into the car. He’s looking at you, and you’re suddenly achingly aware that Marc and Steven can see you too. They can see what Jake has reduced you to.

“They see how needy you are, bebita. How much of a slut you are for me, for us. Are you gonna cum for them, mi amor? Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yes-” you gasp, your voice breathy and high-pitched, overwhelmed with Jake's brutal thrusts right into your over-sensitive pussy. He plays with you like a toy, perfectly practiced and devastating.

“Then do it, amor. Want you to cum all over my fingers. Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench just like you’re going to clench around my cock later.”

Jake jams his fingers into you again, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re throwing your head back against the headrest, gasping out a high-pitched moan, nearly inaudible. 

“That’s it, princesa. So fucking pretty when you cum,” Jake murmurs, tearing his eyes from the road to look at you as you writhe in your seat, your pretty tits pushed out as your back arches. He stops thrusting his fingers, waiting for you to finish clenching around them.

As your body finally settles, he slips his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his face. You watch, mouth agape, as Jake licks his fingers clean of your slick, his eyes back to being trained on the road.

“You always taste so sweet for me, hermosa.” he murmurs, and you whine all over again, your shaky thighs snapping shut.

“What?” he asks, chuckling darkly, “too much already? C’mon, mi vida, you know that the night is far from over.” 

Your eyes widen as the car slows to a stop, right outside your apartment building. Fuck.

[drunkonaheistinspace]

three almost kisses and the one time nothing could interrupt

originally published: December 3rd, 2023

Pairing: Illinois x gn!Reader

Rating: General Audience

Tags: fluff, friendship, first kiss, slight angst

1

When Illinois proudly announced that the two of you would be attending an auction again, flashbacks from last time hit you like a tsunami. Luckily for you, you were informed of his plans two weeks in advance and not hours in advance like last time, giving you plenty of time to prepare.

The first thing you did was insist that you wear your outfit from last time and he didn't have to buy you a new one. You accidentally found out how much he paid for it, which nearly gave you a heart attack. The only reason you still had it was Illinois's argument that it was a birthday present and you didn't want to be rude. And yes, you even kept the overpriced ring that could possibly be an ancient relic. The second was to find out more information about the auction. This time it was about a deceased collector whose collection is being liquidated so that the family can pay off the mountain of debt that the deceased had left them. It looks like you might even find it this time as the deceased specialized in ancient artifacts and judging by the thumbnails were the kind of artifacts you're after.

The sight of Illinois in a suit was something you could never get used to. It was just wrong. But it gave you the opportunity to tie his bow tie, which in turn gave you an excuse to get close to him. "Let's go over the rules again," you said as you straightened the bow tie. "Why are we going to the auction?" Illinois sighed. "To find potential pieces for my collection." "What don't we do?" "Do not purchase artifacts of unknown and/or questionable origin." "And?" "And don't give my partner any gifts that cost me more than fifty dollars." The fifty dollars was still a compromise. You wanted to go lower than ten bucks, after all he was still your boss and after all he was obligated to pay you and he paid you well above average, which is why you didn't see the point of expensive gifts. But he insisted that there should be at least fifty. He referred to this as a bonus for excellent work performance.

A look out of the window told you that the limousine had already arrived and was now waiting for you. You went to grab your coat, but Illinois grabbed your arm. You looked at him in surprise. “After the auction...would you like to go out for dinner afterward? It doesn't have to be expensive! We can also just make a detour to McDonald's and get something there.” A gentle smile graced your face. Illinois was always so cute when he was shy. This was a side of him that only you got to see. "I'd love to have dinner with you." You stood in absolute silence for a moment, looking at each other before Illinois slowly walked towards you and leaned towards you. You closed your eyes in anticipation but your lips didn't touch. Instead, you were startled by loud impatient horns. "The limo is waiting," you said, heart racing, and grabbed your coat. "Yeah, we should go now," he agreed, running his fingers through his hair.

In the end, the auction was canceled because two idiots broke in and took a large part of the collection. Instead, you spent the night in the parking lot behind a McDonald's watching the stars while sharing a helping of chicken nuggets.

2

You had asked Illinois for a single day at the beach several times in the past. Just to relax. Well, your wish has finally been granted after a long time, but unfortunately not in the way you would like. Yes, you just found yourself on a beach at sunset, but instead of sipping colorful cocktails and enjoying the view, you were stuck on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere with a treasure map that made no sense.

"I give up! The map is useless!" you called to your boss who had climbed up one of the palm trees hoping to get a better view of the island. You, on the other hand, had the map in your hand and tried to make sense of the scribble. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you there," Illinois admitted while clambering down the palm tree. "I'm not even sure if we're on the right island anymore." You sit down on the sand and bury your face in your hands. The adventurer sat next to you and fanned the cool air with his hat. "At least we can enjoy the sunset." With a sigh, you looked up and you had to admit that the sunset here was particularly beautiful. At least there was a nice moment you could share with Illinois. "We should take a vacation and just go somewhere that isn't dangerous," you murmur as you rest your head on his shoulder. Illinois said nothing and just silently took your hand and gently squeezed it.

You just sat there and watched the sunset without saying a word. You couldn't remember who turned around first, but suddenly you were looking at each other and your faces got closer and closer. Your lips were only a few millimeters from touching. You were just a head movement away from what you both longed for. At the same time, a cannonball hit the water just meters in front of you, drenching you both in seawater. You looked up in surprise and saw a ship on the horizon.

"Please tell me that's not who I think it is," you moaned in annoyance and frustration. "Captain Magnum," Illinois confirmed. "Maybe we should flee inland before he actually hits us." As if on cue, you saw another cannonball being fired and you ran into the dense jungle hoping to escape the pirate.

3

You ran through the dark maze-like corridors. You've been running for quite a while and you're not exactly sure where you are right now. Everything looks the same and the fear that you've been going in circles the whole time overcomes you. The worst thing about the whole thing, however, was the fact that you didn't even know who you were running from or where exactly you were going. The day started out so harmless.

It was a beautiful summer day and you and Illinois were “on vacation” so to speak. Maybe vacation wasn't the right word. It was much more of a break between adventures because your plane broke down and your flight was delayed by two days. You were in no hurry and instead chose to take this as a sign that you really needed some time off. This included sitting in cute little cafes, drinking coffee and talking about possible new goals. Buy new work boots. Arguing with Illi about why you don't need a 200 euro jacket. In the end you decided to visit an art exhibition.

The exhibition included several different pieces by well-known local artists. You didn't know any of them, but that didn't stop you from marveling at the countless works. Illinois seemed to feel the same way because he would stand in front of a work for a long time complementing both the composition and the technique and all you could do was listen in silence and marvel at how much this man knew about art.

Then it happened. Illinois was laughing. Everything was good. Everything was wonderful. Then he noticed something in the distance. His laughter stopped. His smile vanished. He looked like he had seen a demon. Then everything happened quickly. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the exit, but something forced him to change direction and you ran deeper into the gallery. You couldn't see who or what was doing this to Illinois, but you were sure of one thing. You've never seen him so scared. Eventually he drags you through a door with a staircase leading down. Once you got to the bottom you saw two hallways and Illinois turned to you with a worried look.

"Listen to me. We have to split up! He's most likely after me and I doubt he'll hurt you as long as you stay away from me!" "But-" you tried to protest, but he placed a finger on your lips, silencing you. "No buts! For once, I want you to listen to me and do what I tell you. This is solely for your good.” He removed his finger and instead took your face in his hands. “We will find each other again. I promise it." You wanted to protest again, but the look in his eyes tells you that he won't accept any complaints. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. I trust you." He gave you one final affirmative smile before you walked in different directions.

And so you found yourself in the endless dark labyrinth that sucked every hope out of you with every passing second. Your legs hurt from running and you were exhausted, but you couldn't afford a break. Not unless you knew where the adventurer was. Every step you took felt like you were pulling a heavy load behind you, and a tightness that settled in your chest heralded the onset of a panic attack. It was difficult for you to see in the dimly lit hallways and you felt like it was getting darker with every step. How much time has passed since you broke up?

You turned a corner and instead of finding another endless corridor ahead of you, you ran into what you initially thought was a wall. Only the wall was warm, muscular and difficult to breathe. Two strong hands rested on your shoulders, providing the necessary support that kept you from collapsing like a cheap folding chair on a hot summer afternoon. "Thank God! You're fine!" did you hear the living Adonis statue say You were too exhausted to say anything. Instead, the hands moved away from your shoulders and you were pulled into a tight hug. "I know I have some explaining to do, and I'll do it once we get out of here," Illinois still held you tight, afraid someone would pull you away from him. “I promise you that we will then be a month – no, two months! oh you know what Let's take the rest of the year off and just relax!" The support that the adventurer gave you finally let you relax and catch your breath. Over time, your mind became clearer and the hallway you are in became brighter. You take a deep breath. The familiar smell of leather and linen gave you another piece of security. Your limbs were heavy as lead, but you somehow managed to raise your arm and squeeze Illinois' biceps, after which he released you.

You didn't realize your vision was blurry until you tried to look the adventurer in the face. You feel his warm hands on your cheeks and a light pressure on your forehead. You blink a few times and as your vision cleared you noticed his forehead was pressed against yours. His eyes were closed, his sun-tanned skin was glistening with sweat, and you could smell the faint whiff of coffee on his breath. "I promise nothing will happen to you," he whispered more to himself than to you. “You survived until now. You survived longer than anyone else." He opened his eyes. "You mean too much to me to let him take you away." You stared into each other's eyes for a long time. The corridor was long forgotten. All your senses were taken over by him. The warmth radiating from him. The smell of him clouding your mind like a potent drug. His breath on your face. His eyes that looked straight into your soul. It was like a spell that you couldn't break.

Slowly he closed his eyes again and tilted his head. His lips were only a few millimeters from yours. You inhale his breath and close your eyes. This was the moment. But before you could lean forward and fully surrender to the spell, a door next to you was violently thrown open. You both jumped aside in shock and panic. Was the door here all along? "There you are!" exclaimed Wilford. You both looked at him in horror, but neither of you was able to say or do anything. “You two are extremely late for your interview! Well, come on in!" Wilford grabbed you both by the wrist and yanked you through the door.

You didn't talk about what happened in the corridor. Neither of you could.

+1

It's mid-August. The sky was painted yellow and pink from the setting sun. Illinois kept his promise. Since the Gallery incident, you've stayed away from adventures and settled in a small town. He gave you you room to breath by giving you a small house on the outskirts of town. Under normal circumstances you would insist on getting an apartment, but since the incident you just needed some alone time. Time to think. Time to understand your own feelings. His house wasn't far. A few minutes walk. He gave you a key. You were welcome at any time. And yet you haven't seen each other in two months.

Those two months were the first time you could really think. Overthink. Losing yourself in your own mind. You realized three things: 1. The carpet in your living room was exceptionally soft and perfect for staring at the ceiling for hours. 2. You miss the smell of leather and canvas. 3. Illinois' entire existence was like a siren song and you struggled every day to resist it.

You only now realized that you had been under his spell since the first time you met and every time you tried to leave, you somehow found a way back to him. You had lost your heart and it was now part of his collection. The only thing that stopped him from possessing both your body and your soul was a single kiss.

One kiss and there will be no turning back.

A kiss to seal the deal.

A kiss to become his holy grail.

Every time you opened your front door and looked out, you could see his house. So far and yet so close. There was nothing standing in your way except your own pride and sanity. But today you were weak.

You didn't bother putting on shoes. You looked up at the sky and noticed that the colorful play of colors from before was replaced by dark rain clouds. You felt the first drops on your face and closed your eyes. It didn't take long for the light drizzle to turn into a storm. The rain soaked your clothes and your hair was wet and stuck to your face. This was the perfect weather.

Your legs moved of their own accord, carrying you down the street until you stood in front of his house. Lightning and thunder joined the rain and the wind became more ruthless. But you didn't care. Three steps and you were standing at his door. You take three deep breaths. You knock on the door three times.

You heard the footsteps behind the door. Your heart was racing and you felt the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You heard the door unlock and you held your breath. The door swung open and you took the first step. Illinois didn't have time to react as your arms wrapped around his neck and cold lips pressed against his. He stumbled backwards until his back was pressed against a wall. Only when he realized it was you kissing him did he allow himself to close his eyes and return the kiss. Only when he wrapped his arms around you and felt how wet your clothes were did he force himself to break the kiss. He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away. You were surprised at his sudden abruptness, but the sight that greeted you made every bit of anger in you fade away. His otherwise perfect hair hung over his face, his cheeks red, his lips swollen and his eyes dark. You wanted to lunge at him once more and steal another kiss, but his grip was iron, keeping you at arm's length.

“What happened?” he asked, struggling to keep you at a safe distance. “Why are you wet?” “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you replied while breathing heavily. "I need to see you, feel you, you..." “And that’s why you walked through the rain?” He looked you up and down again. “And that barefoot?!” You rolled your eyes. “How dare I walk barefoot in the rain! This is worse than the time I had to jump off a cliff into the sea! Or the time I had to fight a mutant killer bunny!” Now it was Illinois who rolled his eyes.

You felt his grip on your shoulders loosen and you took the opportunity to approach him again. He didn't do anything to stop you and so you wrapped your arms around him again and hid your face in his neck. Strong arms wrapped around your wet form, pushing you closer to him. “I want to be more than your partner,” you whisper into his skin. In response, he kissed you on the temple. “Were you thinking about a spring wedding or would you prefer fall?” You gave him a light kick to the leg. “Not so fast, my dear! We haven’t seen each other for two months and we have to make up for that time first.” “Whatever you want, treasure!”

[theemporium]

Hi hi! Could I request something with 38 from the smut list with Steve?

thank you for the request! hope you enjoy, love! i got lazy on editing so lets just hope there is no major mistakes🤡

38. “as beautiful as you look, all i want to do is rip that dress off right now.”

.

Senior prom was something everyone looked forward to in their last year of high school. 

The hype surrounding the event in the weeks approaching, ballots and votes going out for prom king and queen, tickets being bought and outrageous promposals being thrown right, left and centre. 

It was hard to avoid. It was hard to miss. And there was no doubt in every student’s mind that prom was the one event nobody could miss. It was practically social suicide to miss senior prom, everybody and their gran knew that. 

And yet here you were, nails digging into the leather seats of the stretch limo because your boyfriend was so damn insatiable he didn’t care about senior prom or anything else for that matter. 

He hadn’t cared the moment you opened the door, bright eyes and adoring smile, standing in the doorway looking like a goddess in your prom dress. Despite how many times he annoyed you about it, you wouldn’t tell him anything about your dress except the colour so he could buy a matching tie.

And now, Steve was almost resentful because if he knew how damn good you were going to look, he would have skipped prom in the first place. 

But you took his hand, made some comment about his theatrical need for a limo and Steve was rendered so speechless that he didn’t even fight you as you pulled him into the backseat with you. Hell, it took him a solid few minutes to get his bearings about him before he could even utter a full sentence at how beautiful you looked. 

Steve had lasted about a solid thirty minutes in the decorated gym before the lingering touches and wandering hands became too much for either of you. 

He had no issues dragging you on the squeaky dance floor, pushing through the throng of dressed up students and towards the school exit. 

Steve pushed you towards the door of the limo, making his way to the driver’s seat to whisper something to the suited man before he wandered off, no doubt around fifty bucks wealthier, before he followed you into the back of the limo. 

“Steve—”

He was on you before you could even finish your sentence, his hands holding your face and his lips on yours. He made you breathless and warm and god, Steve Harrington was addictive. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous, baby,” his whispered words felt ticklish against your inner thighs. “So pretty, like a fucking angel.” 

“Shit,” you breathed out, head falling back against the headrest. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your hair, the pins digging into the back of your head but it didn’t even matter. Nothing but the boy kneeling between your legs mattered. 

Steve pushed the dress further up your legs, the tight material bunching just below your panties. “And this dress, sweetheart,” he let out a low groan, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “As beautiful as you look, all I want to do is rip that dress off right now.”

You shot him a look. “You rip this dress and you’re paying for it, Harrington.” 

“I’ll buy you every fucking dress you want,” Steve retorted, not even ashamed of his own cockiness as his hands slid up the sides of your legs and pulled your panties down with them. “Anything that makes you happy.” 

Your fingers glided through his hair, the action causing his eyes to flutter. “You make me happy, Stevie.” 

“Such a sweet talker,” he muttered before dipping his head back down between your thighs, guiding your legs over his shoulder and giving them a loving squeeze. 

Suddenly, everything about prom seemed useless. Who cared about dressing up and dancing all night in uncomfortable shoes? Who cared about dates and promposals and spending the night drinking spiked with someone you aren’t even sure you like? Who cared about any of it? 

Because honestly, you couldn’t give a damn about any of the big prom milestones people spend years after high school talking about. You didn’t care because you could look back on your senior prom night and smile with pride saying you spent the night having your boyfriend eat you out in the back of a limo. 

“Love the noises you make,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit and his hands reaching out to keep your hips pinned to the seat as you squirmed beneath him. “Always so responsive.” 

“You make me feel good,” you whined out, heels digging slightly into his back but he didn’t seem bothered. If anything, it only goaded him further. 

His tongue lapped you up, running along your slit and teasing your clit just to hear the choked out noise you made when his lips wrapped around the nub. He placed sloppy kisses up and down your cunt, groaning at the shameless wet noises that echoed through the limo. 

His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs when he felt you tensing beneath him, his tongue working against you as you felt your first orgasm of the night wash over you. And when he placed a kiss over your sensitive clit, your body shaking beneath him, he knew one wouldn’t be enough. 

Steve Harrington was insatiable when it came to you, and he would be damned if he didn’t ravish you on a bed for the rest of the night. 

“Where are you going?” you called out, slumped back against the seats, voice breathy and a little whiny as Steve pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh before making his way towards the door, hand adjusting the growing tent in his trousers. 

“Gonna get the driver to take us home,” Steve said, not a care in the world that his lips and chin were glistening. “Told you I wanted to rip that dress off you, baby.” 

.

[x3aspiration]

uberhood (1-3) grunt

last part!

i used to refuse to play the grunt household as a kid because it's a bunch of guys but i love them sm now , especially tank my beloved

to start here's their traits :P

buzz: hot-headed, no sense of humor, mean spirited, supernatural skeptic, athletic

tank: athletic, hot-headed (i think im gonna change this though cause he really hasnt been), shmoozer, ambitious

ripp: artistic(his one true hobby is arts & crafts), avant-garde, friendly, rebellious

and i think buck was friendly, slob, something else lol i forgot to take a pic :(

strange trio hangout day :P except in that pool picture i literally thought he was fucking drowning i was so scared . i dont think ive ever seen sims float on their back in the pool

buck brought home bottom summerdream from school!!!

ripp snuck out and literally ophelia shows up in a limo!!!!

morning workout time , i hc that now buzz literally just gave up with the other two and is banking on tank carrying their family name

ripp wants to be friends with mortimer goth?? cant imagine why

johnny showed up completely unannounced and buzz was all salty abt it

the resolve is that they just hang out outside

after johnny left they had family pizza night!! minus tank because he in the other room

i was near in tears over how evil he looks dude its so funny

ripp skipped school & work then had johnny and ophelia over and when tank got home johnny literally just rocked his shit like out of nowhere

it was so shocking bc tank was on his way to go talk to johnny to start their enemy to lovers arc LMFAOO

he was crying about it in the bathroom while johnny was in there (johnny came in their and stopped him from being able to shower)

i loooove the grunt family im so excited for them to go to college xPPP

next part!

[actua1lykazutoras-wif3]

Rockstar Takuya x Girlfriend reader

MDNI

============================

Warnings:

❤️ Cursing

❤️ Soft smut

❤️ Fingering

❤️ Oral(Fem receiving)

❤️ Unprotected sex

============================

Takuya was patient. Hands gripping his jeans in a death grip. His right leg shook from anticipation. He was antsy to be with you again. His gray hues disappear as he leans into the seat. A little, soft sigh escapes his lips as he envisions you waiting for him at the door with nothing on. His nails dig into his jeans, he can almost hear his name from your sweet lips. Suddenly the soft buzz of the limo stops. He quickly opens his eyes. Only assuming he's possibly in traffic he rolls down the tinted window. The joy written on his face was a sight. Instead of traffic it was your house. He nearly jumped out, almost running to the front door. His feet slowed. "Wait, she might be asleep," he mumbles. As long as he gets to see your face that's all that matters.

His shaking hand reaches for the door. To his surprise you open it before he could knock. "TAKUYA" you shout from excitement. Nearly you knock him down by engulfing him in a big hug. He reciprocated it, holding you tight. "Missed you so much" you say while buried into his chest. "I missed you too," he softly whispers. Long lonely nights kept him away from you. Now you’re back in his arms. He takes in your sweet scent. Arm held you tight. You two stand for a bit in each others arms.

His delicate hand cups your cheeks. He tilted your head facing him while his free hand squeezed your hip. Lust evident in his gray hues. "I've been so stressed-..." he leans closer to you "-wanna help me relax?" He asks. Your eyes travel down to his lips. "Yes" you answer eagerly. You two have been separated for a while. Now you finally have him. "Great" he purrs. You were pulled into a heated kiss. Your tongues wrestle together, swirling over one another. Muffled moans vibrate throughout both of your bodies. Your hand rucks up his shirt. He breathes lightly as your hand travels up his body. He abruptly breaks the kiss, hastily snatching off his shirt. Slowly but eventually pieces of clothing scatter across the room. You rake your fingers through his sandy long hair. Half lidded eyes gaze into his gray ones. Love and lust evident in them as he can see. He quickly leans in towards your neck. You slightly shift so he could pepper light pecks down your neck. You emit a soft hum. He sits up, his gray hues take in your appearance. Your chest lightly heaving, nipples erect, body splayed out on the soft couch. His heart pumps rapidly when he sees your half lidded eyes. A tightness in his boxer makes him slightly wince. With slow movement he kisses down your body until he reaches your wet cunt. Your legs part even more as his thumb massages your clit. You lightly gasp from the stimulation. He leaves you softly panting as his hand abandons your clit. You arch your back as he licks your wet slit. Anticipation crept into your veins as he stopped. A frustrated whine emits from you out of impatience. Suddenly his tongue dives in causing a loud moan from you. Your fingers grip the edge of the couch.

Eyes rolling back as he swirls his tongue. Soft, low muffled moans emit from him. His grip on your thighs were almost bruising. "You taste so good," he hums. Heat builds up in your abdomen when you reach your limit.

Your legs twitch from his tongue. He laps at your leaking juices. He sits up. Slowly stroking his length. More precum leaks from the tip. Soft pants leave his lips. His lust filled eyes watch as you buck your hips, wanting him to put it in so badly. "Ta-Takuya ple-please hurry up" you whine in a needy way. Your words are his command. He positions himself at your soaked entrance. You bite your lip as he prods at your entrance. He lubed his length with your slick. A mixture of groans and moans ensue as he slides in. His hand squeezed your hip as you clenched around him. He pants while looking down at you. A Light sheen of sweat makes your skin glimmer. Even like this you manage to look stunning. Both of your hands tightly clasped together as he moved. You moan loudly, feeling him against your wet walls. Eyes closed feeling absolute bliss. Lust glazed gray hues watch your lips part. Little soft moans leave you like a melody to his ears.

"Oh-Oh fu-uck" he rasps, thrusting into your leaking hole. Your nails rake across his back as he quickened his pace. Lips quivering as his tip repeatedly kisses your cervix. High-pitched moans leaves your swollen, wet lips. Soon his thrusts become sloppy. Low groans emit in your ear while he thrusts. His hands gently squeeze yours. You feel his length pulse inside. "I'm cum-ming" he breathes. He teases your clit one more time. A fire builds up in your abdomen. A wave of cum leaks from your soaking cunt. Takuya pulls out. He leans in for another passionate kiss. Your tongues wrestle together for dominance. Little, satisfied muffled moans leave you. You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his waist. Chests completely pressed together. Your fingers firmly grip his back. You two pant heavily parting from each other. He watches as the cum leaks out of your filled hole. He leans in, giving you a little peck on the lips. You try to relax as his free hand gently massages your inner thigh. He lays on top of you, closing his eyes to the lulling beat of your heart. You two lay there panting from the high. Skin extremely heated and sweaty. He splays tired kisses to your breasts. "Goodnight angel" he whispers. You release a sleepy hum.

============================

[droptoeholdyourhorses]

Thankfully I got to Wembley and back without running into any issues with the trains. Even just getting on at the station, I saw four other people wearing wrestling shirts and that number gradually increased the closer it got to London. The whole day had a similar atmosphere to when I attended WrestleMania 31. Wrestling. Fans. Everywhere.

I was up in the nosebleeds so not the best of views, having to rely on the screen above the ring for most of the night. The atmosphere more than made up for it. Although I am jealous of my work mate who also attended, had floor seats, and can be seen multiple times in the crowd throughout the show.

Ticketmaster told me the doors opened at 3:30, that Zero Hour would start at 5, and the main show would start at 6. Thank goodness I was in my seat by 4:15 because otherwise I would have missed Powerhouse Hobbs and Miro who were in the ring at 4:30. Imagine still being in line at the merch stand instead. Side note - I thought WWE replica titles were pricey going for £300 to £450. AEW replicas start at £650 and go up to £850.

From where I was sat, I had no clue it was Anthony Ogogo with Paul Wight and Grado. Genuinely thought it was Wardlow at first. Mercedes got a good reaction the first time she was shown but got a better pop the second time once more fans had filled in and the main show was underway.

I saw Aussie Open compete at NJPW Royal Quest in August 2019 and I didn't think much of them at the time. Fair play to the lads, they've had a hell of a few years since. Would have hoped for them to hold onto the ROH tag titles for longer. Don't think they'll be complaining about opening All In against the hottest act in the company though.

Not much reaction to this match in my section, although people were glad to see HOOK get the win. Jack Perry doing Rolling Thunder on top of the limo was also impressive. I do wonder how a casual fan checking out the show would react to Perry's comment about the limo having real glass.

"Well, duh, what else would it be?"

Every time I have seen Samoa Joe live, he's gotten a positive reaction whether playing face or heel. CM Punk was met with a mixed response, although I couldn't see anyone that didn't sing along with Cult of Personality. I understand the logic of "I'm gonna take your Real World Championship simply so you can't have it." I don't understand the logic of AEW promoting matches for a fake title. Will Thunder Rosa declare herself the Real Women's Champion when she returns? If this does end up being Punk's swansong, there are worse ways to go. From an on-screen perspective at least.

Omega, Ibushi, and Page losing was not popular with the live crowd, getting some "bull plop" chants. I wasn't that fussed personally, think it makes sense for Takeshita to keep building momentum ahead of the singles with Kenny. The six-man tag was fine for what it was but I wouldn't say there was anything particularly memorable here either.

Ahead of their usual Superkick Party theme, the Young Bucks had a short "Another One Bites The Dust" parody "A Superkick Knocks You Out". It wouldn't be the last time an act on the show would shoehorn in a Queen song. Both teams put on a solid match as you'd expected, definitely picking up the pace as it went on. Surprised that FTR retained given Cash's recent issues. Wembley was most respectful of the manner, singing "Wheeler's Got a Gun" to the tune of "Give It Up".

I like Eddie Kingston. I like Orange Cassidy and the Best Friends. I like the Blackpool Combat Club. It's a shame I was limited as to how much I got to see of them. And that's not because of the cheap seats. Stadium Stampede was always going to be a hard watch live with ten different guys in four or five different places at once. It felt like Eddie was gone for most of the match. Penta's transformation from El Zero Miedo to Oscuro did not come across well live either. Was mostly met by confusion and laughter. Massive reactions for Orange and of course SUE! Great to see Cassidy, Trent and Chuck get the win on such a big stage.

Remember the band Queen? Saraya sure does. Remember Queen Elizabeth II? Toni Storm sure does. Remember great women's wrestling? Tony Khan might be forgetting it. This match suffered from its placement on the card and there wasn't much crowd noise for it, at least where I was sat. Toni Storm accidentally decking Saraya's mum drew an "ooooooo" and Saraya got a good pop for the win.

I've now seen Sting wrestle for four different promotions - WWA, TNA, WWE, and AEW. It's amazing that he's still going at 64 and having such a great run to boot. Massive reaction for his old WCW theme Seek and Destroy too.

I saw a Casket match between Mr. Anderson and Bully Ray at a TNA show in 2014. Except they had a cheap wooden casket that looked like it would fall apart any second. I think the four guys in this would have preferred it, given how often each did a spot directly onto the coffin itself. Everyone delivered in this one.

Before making his proper entrance, Chris Jericho decided to mimic Freddie Mercury. Can't think why. Judas is a catchy song and having 80,000+ singing it all at once was immense. I know people wanted to see Will Ospreay against someone else, such as a third match with Kenny Omega, but I was hyped for this one. Always been a Jericho fan, one of the first wrestlers I remember seeing when I started watching in 2001. Ospreay is tremendous and I had only seen him live in a throwaway tag match previously. These two knocked it out of the park and this was probably my match of the night.

As soon as I got to Wembley Stadium and found my spot in the massive queue, there were already people singing "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands". There were tributes to Bray Wyatt throughout the night and it reached its most poignant during House of Black's entrance.

Quite a contrast then when The Acclaimed and Billy Gunn won, leading to the World's Largest Scissoring.

Oh boy, this was a divisive one live. Some people around me loved it and were thrilled that friendship won out the night, some people thought the match had too much comedy and needed one guy betraying the other. One guy in my section would not stop shouting for Adam Cole to take his shirt off and take it seriously. I liked it for the most part. Wasn't a fan of the false double pin, even with the immediate restart. Glad that Better Than You Bay Bay is still going. Hope All Out doesn't undo it immediately.

Overall, I had a great time at All In and very much hope I can go again in 2024. Would have liked to attend with someone rather than be on my own, but did get to meet up with my work mate for a burger after the show. I also got to see Cash Wheeler, Sonjay Dutt, Wheeler Yuta and SUE! in passing too. Fun times all round... was absolutely exhausted after. Luckily, there's no more London shows this year...

At least, I'm not currently planning to go to Royal Quest III anyhow.

[firethatgrewsolow]

Curious question I hope you or someone can help with: before the Starship, how did the boys get from show to show? Especially like multi city gigs in the same state. I’ve never heard anyone mention anything. On a fun note, I’m imaging a Tiny Dancer Almost Famous scene but it’s Elvis 😂

Ahh, that does sound fun! I love that scene, and TD is one of my favorite songs. 💕 As to your question, I’ve pondered that a time or two. Which is to say I was pretty much obsessed with figuring out what they did when I was writing M&R. From what I’ve gathered, and I could easily be wrong, they had essentially three tiers of travel in the states. Europe was a bit different, and I’ll explain that in a sec.

In the early, early days, it looks like they were ferried about via station wagon, which quickly morphed into commercial flights and limos, as their success was basically immediate. There are some hilarious stories about snow storms and ruffled hair from those days - just google it if you don’t know them already. So funny. They continued w the commercial flights until they procured the Falcon jet. Not sure exactly when that was, but I know they had it by the summer of 71. My guess is sometime during 1970. Here’s Peter Grant chatting about it:

“Before that we had a nine-seater Falcon jet, which was a tremendous plane. We used to fly to every gig, into the limo, police escort, do the gig, do the encore and then – no changing, bang! – to the plane. I mean, it's wonderful isn't it, having your own plane?

“But they had to sit opposite each other all the time. And of course, there were rows, but they never lasted more than two or three hours (two or three hours ha!) a night. Somebody might get chinned by one of the others, having punch-ups between themselves. I mean, Bonzo and Robert were famous for that.

“The first time in Japan, in 1970 (it was actually 71) Robert went on with a split lip for the encore every time. And this was an argument over something they did in the [pre-Zeppelin band] Band Of Joy – Robert wouldn't pay Bonzo £37 for petrol or something.

“The thing is, in all seriousness, on that small plane you were too in that 'cocoon'. And then the 'Starship' came along. Which was only $14,000 more, because they [Boeing] wanted the publicity and that kind of thing. And we thought, well why not? We'll have a 720.”

They kept using the Falcon until half way through the 73 tour, at which time they scored the Starship. So, essentially, they scrubbed around for the first few months, then rapidly ascended to planes and limos. There’s talk of some school bus thing they used in the very beginning, but I can’t find anything concrete. In case you were wondering, the crew carted equipment around in U-haul type vehicles, staying in like mid-level budget motels, eventually sometimes flying commercial w the gear in the hold. They might also have gotten a bus at some point, I’m not sure. Im terribly uninformed about that.

In Europe, as the landscape and logistics are quite different than in the USA, they flew and took trains, sometimes personally driving to gigs. There’s a story about Robert’s car breaking down on the way to a gig in January 73, requiring he (and Bonzo?) hitchhike! to the show. I can only assume he was compelled to drive bc of a need for convenience / autonomy and not to save a buck lol! Some people theorize that he caught a cold doing this and sang anyway (as he was wont to do) - and that this was the genesis of his vocal struggles. I’d say smoking and opening with IS sans warmup a million times in a row might have had something to do with it, too. 😉

Well, that’s my Ted talk on Zeppelin transport logistics. 😁 Hope it wasn’t too boring. I really love delving into this stuff so thanks for the question! 💖 I’ll probably dig around a little deeper and see what I can find. And if anyone would like to add anything, please do!!

[this-is-moony-lovegood]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Here is a sneak peek at my Buck on the Bachelorette Fic that I started working on. Comment, reblog/tag, or send me an ask to give me some motivation to finish it! Thanks!

...

Now, it’s Week 5 of Buck being gone, but ABC has decided to start airing the episodes earlier this season in the hopes of fitting in some extra seasons of the show this year. Since Buck is not back, he knows that he’s still off at Bachelor Mansion - or some mystery destination - falling madly in love. So, he gets to sit here all night and watch it happen before his very eyes.

Hen, Chim, and Ravi made popcorn, and are eagerly chatting about the contestants that keep showing up. They cackle each time a new one tries a crazy first impression like wearing a frog costume, or playing a love song on an accordion, or professing their love through the world’s most poorly written haiku. They’ve already got bets going on how far these guys will make it, and how they think Buck will try to top them.

Eddie - and everyone else - watches carefully as Buck exits the limo, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit, with a pale blue tie that makes Buck’s eyes shine like the crystals on Emma’s dress that just so happen to match the color of his eyes. Eddie can’t help but think he looks absolutely beautiful, especially when he beams one of his signature Buck smiles right at her. She’s blushing before he even makes it to her. How could she not? Eddie doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to take weeks of seeing him look so damn perfect on his screen.

To Hen and Chim’s surprise, he doesn’t do anything, too crazy when her meets her. Instead, he tells her a fun fact about the aquamarine color of her dress.

“Did you know that the color of your dress is aquamarine? As a gemstone, aquamarines have been referred to as “magic mirrors” and have been used by fortune tellers to predict the future.”

“Oh really, now?” Emma says, a smirk gracing her lips. “And what future do you predict for me?”

“I predict that by the end of this, you’ll fall hopelessly in love.”

“That’s it?” She giggles, “Nothing about me falling hopelessly in love with you?”

“In my experience, falling in love is unpredictable. I can’t tell you for certain that you’re going to fall in love with me.” Buck tells her, before taking her hand in his. Eddie already feels the heat of jealousy bubbling up inside him at the simplest touch. “However, I can assure you that as long as I’m here, I’m going to try and give you reasons to. That way, if you do tell me that you love me then I will have earned it.” He finishes with a kiss to her knuckles, and the bows out and heads towards the mansion.

“Damn, Buck.” Chim says, restarting the conversation amongst the crowd of onlookers. Hen and Ravi pipe in about Buck’s pickup skills and bring up his Buck 1.0 days. Eddie tunes them out. 

As the night continues he begs for a call, literally any call to break them away from the damn TV yet there’s not a single one. At the end of the night when Emma hands out the first impression rose to Buck, everyone but Eddie cheers. Yet, Eddie walks off towards the bunk room and tries to tune them out. He can’t bare to hear them talking about it anymore tonight, or watch the promo of he’s sure is going to be shirtless contestants in some random game to impress their star.

Instead, he lies down and tries to get some sleep and hopefully dream about anything other than Bachelor Mansion.