#but I genuinely feel so good right now I'm so fucking ecstatic.

[neverendingford]

.

[saerotonins]

virgin!choso who hasn't touched and felt a touch of a woman, being asked to make you feel good by rubbing your clit.

virgin!choso is quite confused but still ecstatic that he can help you feel so good.

virgin!choso who is enthusiastic that you're willing to help him out because he genuinely doesn't know what to do.

virgin!choso whose nervousness went through the roof when you took your panties off and oh god his jaw dropped, he can't believe he's going to see and touch some real pussy (aside from what he sees through porn).

virgin!choso whose hands are shaking when you guide it to your clit, making you immediately gasp because his hands are so warm.

virgin!choso who's been focusing on keeping the right pace and pressure on your clit through his thumb because he's so nervous and he just wants his girl to feel good!

virgin!choso whose dick got so hard just from hearing you moan out of pressure and grind your pussy towards his palms because fuck making him learn, you just want him to take you.

virgin!choso who is shocked when you press your lips against his, making him remove his hand from your pussy.

"b-babe, i wasn't done yet!" he had stuttered.

"fuck that, i need you inside of me now, baby, we can finish it next time," you said as you straddled him and immediately took off the clothing on his body. and there you see his hard-on, standing proud, just for you.

"i would make you feel good with my mouth but i'm really horny right now so i just need you to fuck me, that okay?" with such a sweet voice like that, how could he deny you?

with lack of words, he just nods his head, star-struck because he is so so lucky to have you.

virgin!choso who almost cums on the spot the moment you put his fat tip into your pussy but surprisingly managed not to do so, albeit it took all of his will to stop it.

virgin!choso whose hands immediately goes up to your hips because he just wants to touch you. his head thrown back against the headboard due to the intense pleasure you're giving him.

virgin!choso who can't bring himself to feel ashamed because you were supposed to be teaching him how to make you feel good, not the other way around. but he couldn't care less, not when his pretty girlfriend is riding him so damn good while looking like a goddess.

he also tries not to close his eyes just so he can see your tits bounce against his face.

dear god, what did i ever do to deserve such blessings?

virgin!choso who ended up getting fucked so good, shaky breaths leaving his lips as you let him cum inside of you the same time that you did.

virgin!choso getting an apologetic post-nut clarity, "i'm sorry i let you do all the work, i promise to make it up to you."

you shake your head as your caress his broad chest, his soft dick still inside of you, "mhm, don't worry about it, i can just also teach you how to eat me out good and then we can be even."

god fuck, choso had never felt so lucky to have his girlfriend to tutor him good like this.

note: i think i got carried away, my bad.

[toomuchracket]

lol feeling a bit angsty today, thinking about matty and taylor and the timeline of things lol. but Jamie was at the concert tonight with matty and maybe he travelled with our beloved dh assistant. And matty and taylor are together now and assistant had to be professional and maybe she’s dazzling the room with her professionalism and her charisma, but maybe she has a full blown panic attack about it all when she has a moment to think about the whole thing, maybe needs some air and maybe matty finds her having her moment and doesn’t know what to do

OH this inspired me to do a fic, rather than a blurb. beware of angst (but it's an AU and i am not doing a part 2 lol everything is actually nice in d word matty-land. also for a partial explanation of dh assistant being there, it's bea opening alongside phoebe and you're there for vaguely manager-y stuff. and matty plays during bea's set but not for pheebs lol. it'll make sense in-fic!)

gone four weeks

the irony of walking into the stadium while taylor is soundchecking 'midnight rain' isn't lost on you.

following jamie towards the small group of people gathered at the front of the stage, you try not to focus on the lyrics, or the familiar mess of curls moving side to side in time to the music ahead of you, or the melancholy blooming in your skin at the whole situation.

you should be excited. ecstatic. elated, for fuck's sake. you're seeing one of your label's artists - and a fairly good friend of yours to boot - support taylor swift, an artist you've enjoyed and admired since you were an actual kid. instead, you're feeling worse with every passing step, bile and tears threatening to spill out of various facial orifices as you get close enough to hear matty singing along quietly and say something to bea.

it's only been four weeks since you last heard him, but the inflections of matty's voice seem completely unfamiliar to you. they say that the voice is the first memory you lose of someone after a death - apparently, this also applies to the death of a relationship. that, or he's let his accent be influenced by his new girlfriend, aka the beautiful, capable woman singing onstage right now.

bea glances over her shoulder and grins at the sight of you and jamie, walking to meet you and opening her arms out to hug you both in turn. your boss moves on to hug matty too, but you stay put, bea's arm over your shoulder; matty makes no effort to near you, either, staying a good few paces away from you. whether he's trying to avoid overstepping any boundaries or preparing for a duel with you, you can't decide. the former, probably, from the way he nods politely at you and asks "you alright? the flight was ok, i take it?"; you smile emotionlessly back at him - an easy feat, considering your body has gone numb from the sheer agony of seeing him again - and answer affirmatively to both. matty nods again, and gets a look on his face that you instantly recognise as "i have something i want to say to you", but he's interrupted by taylor's arrival on the stadium floor before he can.

despite yourself, and the awkward situation you're all in, you can't help but be awed by her - tall and graceful and even prettier in person, that famously-red-lipstick-lined smile so dazzling and contagious that you begin to genuinely smile too in response. you keep it up even when she hugs matty and he kisses her head sweetly, despite your want to scream at the fact that his lips are on her and not you. but you keep calm, keep smiling, no matter how sore or fake it feels, and remind yourself that it's partially your own fault he isn't kissing you any more.

the smile becomes genuine again when taylor comes over to you and introduces herself, sweeping you into a big hug accompanied by a "so amazing to finally meet you! i'm a big fan of your work in keeping the label running", the latter sentence followed by a wry smile.

"you're a big... what?" you splutter, pulling away. "i don't even do much!"

"oh, please," taylor sighs. "everyone - jamie included, by the way - says you're the mastermind behind everything. i think we have that in common."

out of the corner of your eye, you see matty wince at taylor likening the two of you. good, you think. let him be uncomfortable. "well, you are the reason i got into music," you say, smiling. "i picked up a guitar for the first time after hearing 'fearless'. i mean, i did put it back down when i realised i was kinda shit and my interest in music would be better served elsewhere, but still. thank you for that."

"that's so cool!" taylor squeals, pulling you into another hug. after it ends, she turns to matty with an accusatory look. "i can't believe you wouldn't tell me this! i thought you said she was your best friend."

ouch. you sink your teeth into the back of your bottom lip as you shift your gaze to matty, attempting to keep your face expressionless in spite of the friendzoning revelation wound. he looks apologetic - whether towards you or taylor, though, you can't tell. "to be fair, i didn't actually know that."

"yeah. you don't know everything about me, healy" you reply, your attempt at lightheartedness falling a bit flat amidst the slight tension of the conversation.

matty scoffs. "i know enough."

the loaded comment stings, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes to match it. luckily, bea moves the discussion onto something else all technical and musical, giving you the opportunity to pull out your phone and pretend to be answering emails so that you don't have to look at matty and have him see you're upset. he notices, though, of course he does - matty knows your body movements like nobody else, like the back of his own calloused hand, and the events of four weeks ago mean he's also well-acquainted with what you look like when you're hurt. if you looked up for even a split-second and met your ex-boyfriend's gaze, you would see the clear regret and concern for you in his dark eyes; you don't, though, you keep your eyes on your phone until the soundcheck resumes and you and jamie are dragged off by taylor's parents to talk management and business.

and you're alright, initially, for the next few hours - you're busy having work-related discussions about promotion and marketing and getting some insider knowledge into taylor's career and the tour itself, which is eye-opening for you from both a career perspective and as a fan. bea's set is a bit of a challenge to get through, what with matty making a surprise appearance part-way through to play guitar on some of the songs he co-wrote with her; for the most part, though, you can zone him out, and focus on the fact that your friend and client - a girl not too much younger than you - is playing a stadium show on one of the biggest concert tours in history, cheering bea on proudly and singing along.

phoebe's set is different. sure, you don't have to see matty onstage - come to think of it, you don't know where he is. before you can stop it, a memory of you and matty together crosses your mind; a pre-show fuck in a random dressing room in buenos aires, an encounter that matty later claimed was "the reason why that show was our best ever". you briefly wonder if that's what he's up to now with taylor, her long legs wrapped around him, before choking both the thought and the vomit in your mouth back down to the circle of your own personal hell they appeared from, and focusing as best you can on the performance in front of you. which is a mistake, really, considering phoebe's set consists of all the songs you listened to non-stop after you and matty called it quits; by the time the intro to moon song begins, you're holding back sobs, quietly backing out of the vip tent and entering the inner corridors of the stadium.

you have no idea where you're going, but that doesn't bother you - the song is muffled by steel and concrete, so it's less painful, and your all-access pass means security just wave you through doors without stopping you. finally, you find a deserted spot in a corridor by the stairs, where you slump to the floor and just cry, overwhelmed by the jet lag and the emotions of phoebe's songs and your shitty love life and this whole fucking day in general. head in your hands and sobbing loudly, you don't notice the footsteps hurrying towards you, only registering the fact you're not alone anymore when a familiar voice speaks. "oh, princess."

matty, crouched down so he's eye level with you, looking sadder than you've ever seen him - well, with the exception of four weeks ago, that is. your lip trembles at the sight of him, and you cry even harder, speaking through wails. "please don't call me that, matty."

"sorry, sorry - force of habit," matty says quickly. "are you ok? actually, stupid fucking question, you're clearly not, but... i had to say something. i hate seeing you upset."

"well, you've been pretty good at making me that way recently."

matty sighs, moving to sit beside you against the wall. "could say the same for you, you know."

"really making me feel better here, man."

"sorry."

there's silence for a minute - your breathing is beginning to regulate, just out of the muscle and sense memories brought back by nothing more than matty sitting closely beside you, and you fucking hate it. with a sigh, you break it. "i'm sorry about what happened, you know. i just... got scared. didn't mean to be hurtful."

"s'fine," matty shrugs. "i'm sorry i ever brought it up."

"hey, less of that," you turn to matty, touching his arm softly. "it's what you want, and it's good you mentioned it, even if i panicked and disagreed. really."

matty makes a noncommittal sound. "i just hate that i ended up hurting you with it. i never want to do that, regardless of if we're together or not."

"same here."

with a small smile at you, matty checks the time on his phone. "phoebe's almost finished. you coming back down?"

"in a minute," you nod. "you go ahead."

matty gives you a quizzical look, but leaves with a "see you in a min" when you wave him away. taking a few deep breaths, you wipe your eyes and listen to phoebe's voice resonating through the stadium before you follow matty.

anyway, don't be a stranger...

[the-unspeakable-tsar]

Kidnapping The Grunk

In 2018, I was 17. I wrote a Gravity Falls/Rick and Morty crossover fic called "Kiddnapping The Grunk". I'm 23 now, and I was looking at my ao3 account, and I saw it. So, I decided to rewrite the fic. The original person who wanted me to write the fic no longer exists on Tumblr. But here's the new version in its entirety.

Stan’s eyes opened up into complete darkness. He started to move but found his limbs stiff and wrapped in something. He was stuck and started thrashing around. He’d gotten it into his head that he was twisted up in his bedsheets again and started screaming.

“Oh god! Soos! Get the jaws of life! Get some snips or somethin’! I’m stuck!” he shouted.

“Nobody’s gonna help you out here, ole man,” said a strange voice from the dark.

“Who’s that?” said Stan. His tone was not so much panicked but annoyed. “Robbie Valentino, this better not be some stupid prank. I’m not playing around with you and Wendy’s games anymore!”

A new voice chimed in, making robotic tutting, “Nah, you don’t get it do ya?” We’re holding your ass for ransom.”

“Ransom?” said Stan. He considered the thought for a moment. “If you cut me in on this, I can get my brother to fork over some more cash. I know he’s good for it.”

“Shut the fuck up!” shouted the first voice. “If your scrawny boy toy doesn’t deliver the Smidgens we want, we’re going to slit your Cromdamned throat!”

“Boy toy? What the heck are you talking about?” he asked and received a smack across the face for it.

Everyone who surrounded him began to laugh as Stan’s head spun.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said. “You were rolling heavy with Rick Sanchez in this part of the galaxy for ten years. Suppose your spastic lust pet doesn’t show up; we’re going to cut your head off and bury you somewhere like a vampire.”

“Who?” asked Stan.

---

A large green portal opened up into a land covered in prone grease grease-slicked grandmothers. Two aged scientists stepped out and into the town. The residents of the town looked at them with fascination. Stanford Pines looked down at his tracker pad, which pinged with a map of this area and the little tracker.

“I cannot believe that my brother has gotten wrapped up in your nonsense, Sanchez,” he said. 

“Better believe it,” said Rick Sanchez, punctuating his brief statement with a burp. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you myself. What are they? Flansians? Predators? The Tall Whites?” asked Stanford, rapidly firing his questions at Rick.

“Beats the hell out of me,” said Rick. “If they’re after me through, Stan I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry your prissy little head about it.” 

Rick reached over and started tussling Stanford’s hair drunkenly, only for Ford to take his hand away. “None of that!”

“You can’t still be angry because I didn’t call you after our night of passion in the Hamburger Fields,” he said. Dismissing him.

“I can be, and I am!” he shouted.

“Oh blah, blah, blah! BLIGHITY BLAH!” shouted Rick. “Stan’s a better man than you anyways. He knows how to make a man feel appreciated. Y’know?” 

Rick then feigned ecstatic moans, “Ohh Stanley, yeah, yeah, yeah, right therreee!” 

“That’s lewd,” growled Stanford. His face flushed a deep red.

“You would know,” said Rick. “I recall you getting very into me sucking on your fingers.” 

“Nope,” Stanford walked forward. Stomping as he went. “Not listening. Just help me find my brother.”

Rick made a dismissive noise. “Bleh…fine….So, does he ever talk about me?” 

“Hmm?” began Stanford. “No, never.” 

“C’mon, i’m being serious right now. He must, right?’ asked Rick.

“Nope. Up until we got the note, I didn’t even know you two were acquainted,” said Stanford.

“What? We spent nearly a decade together, fucking and savaging around the country,” said Rick. “He must remember me.” 

“Well,” said Ford apprehensively. “There’s a chance that he genuinely doesn’t remember.” 

“Oh god, has he been hit with Alzheimer's?” said Rick, feeling his age.

“The truth is more…odd,” Said Ford. “Do you remember when i talked about Weirdmageddon?” 

“Dumb name, yes.”

“Ignoring that…To destroy Bill, Stanley allowed him to invade his mind…Then we erased it,” said Ford.

“You sick son of a bitch!” growled Rick.

“Oh, grow the hell up, Sanchez. I heard about how you regularly erase your grandson’s memories over minor mistakes on your end,” said Ford.

“How did you hear about that?” asked Rick.

“Summer and Wendy are friends on Tumblr,” said Ford.

“Goddamn, Summer,” whispered Rick under his breath. But then Rick smiled, “Hot Damn, Fordy baby, you’ve just given me a chance at this bullshit thing called love!” 

Rick pushed Ford over, and the old man fell on his ass. They opened up a portal that entered them into a dimension filled with bright blue slime bags, and they bounced off of them, weaving between each other as they fell. Rick blessed another portal into the wall of the dimension and it led into the back room of a bar.

Surrounding Stan’s tied-up form were impossibly tall robots and short dwarven aliens with big fly eyes. They all pulled their guns and started firing at the pair. They ducked behind pillars and exchanged looks. Ford looked ready to kill Rick.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!” he shouted.

“Relax,” Rick stepped in front of the scene.

His body was quickly riddled with plasma fire. The bolts of liquid energy passed through his scrawny form like butter, but he kept stepping forward. The aliens screamed at him in their native tongues—horrid insect chirping. Rick’s left arm unfolded, forming a kind of gun made of green semi-metal and flesh. The flesh gun sprayed the aliens with a horrible mist that caused their skin to erupt in horrible sizzling boils and caused the metal skin of the robots to erode rapidly.

“Come to me, everybody!” he shouted. “Look at me go! Your gods might not be real, but I’m sending you to him all the same!”

Ford stood behind the pillar, picking off stragglers with his pistol and resenting every word that fell out of Rick Sanchez’ stupid head. He didn’t have to do all of this. They could have just killed them; they didn’t have to cook alive inside their bodies.

Once this mad violence was over, Stanford dashed over to Stanley and tore the bag off his head; his brother winced at the light.

“It’s okay, Stanley, you’re going to be alright,” said Ford as he began to undo the binds.

Rick turned and flashed Stanley a look. He thought it was sexy, with is hip cocked to the side and the bulge in his pants prominently displayed. 

“Hey, hot stuff,” said Rick. “I’m Rick Sanchez, and I’m the rescue committee.”  

“Yeah,” said Stan. “I know who you are.”

Suddenly, Rick froze. Shit, he remembers all the scumbag shit I did.

Once up, Stan strode across the room and pushed Rick up against the wall, forcing his tongue into his mouth and dry-humping him against the wall. Ford stood by, irritated that it built up to this. He turned his head so he didn’t have to see the image of the two.

“You scrawny son of a bitch,” said Stan. “You made me remember that I missed you.”

[sunwarmed-ash]

Wip Update- The Eden Club

omg endings are so fucking hard. I'm like this,

trying to connect together all the shit I set up in the early chapters LAST YEAR.

bruhhh

anyway here's the first 15 chapters and below the cut is a lil sneak peak of the last chapter!

The work-in-progress polycule has cleaned up, left the club, and resumed their naked, lying in bed activities at Hank’s. Sumo is laying comfortably across all of their feet, more than a little ecstatic to have Connor and Gavin back home.  

Connor’s laying on his back sandwiched between his humans, his left hand intertwined with Gavin’s. Gavin’s free hand is holding a half-smoked cigarette, but It’s been over 3 minutes since he’s last taken a puff. Hank’s got Connor’s other hand raised against his warm, if not a little prickly from his mustache. He’s smiling, for the first time in a long time; happy he’s got his whole family under one roof again. 

It’s quiet, but it's also comfortable. Natural, and everything the three of them hoped this could be when this all started. 

For the last fifteen minutes, the trio has been content to just bask in the peaceful moments. 

“Hey Connor?” Gavin’s question are the first words spoken in minutes. 

“Yes?” he chips, turning his face to give Gavin his full attention. The man’s eyes stay on the ceiling, but his spike in heart rate signals Gavin knows Connor’s looking at him. 

“Can I ask you a question? Like… a personal one?”

Hank has tuned in too. Connor can feel his body shifting beside him. 

“Of course Gavin.”

Now Gavin is quiet. His blood pressure has risen a bit more, indicating the likelihood of a thorny question. 

“Do you…” Gavin swallows, “you know, like it?” 

Connor’s own anxiety and simulated systems react suspiciously to the question. More due to the rawness of the last 48 hours than an impression Gavin was trying to trap him.

“Do I like what?” Connor deflects, hoping to buy another few seconds. 

“You know what I’m asking...” Gavin says but his tone doesn’t indicate judgement, jealously, or resentment. Just genuine curiosity. Which is the main reason why Connor he answers the question. 

“...It's complicated.”

“Baby,” Hank chimes in, winding his hand around Connor’s middle and squeezing him close. “We live and breathe ‘complicated.’ Lay it on us.” 

Connor smiles, the body heat and dual support from them helping him feel more at ease than he’s been in weeks.

“Yes, I suppose I do like- aspects of it. But there are other aspects, I could do without.”

“Like uh, like what?” Gavin asks further and Connor’s quiet again. Fear telling him to keep his mouth shut. 

“Hey, we’re not going anywhere,” Hank reassures, and Gavin makes sure to nod his agreement too.  

“Thank you,” Connor shudders, tension melting off him near instantly. He didn't realize how badly he needed to hear that. It's the only thing allowing him to continue the dialogue. “Certain dynamics of the club may have changed, but that doesn't mean the clientele necessarily has. And I know, I know, you don’t trust him Hank, but Elijah has given me more freedoms than even I could imagine.” 

Hank tenses slightly behind him at the mention of Kamski and Connor feels terrible for all the discomfort he’s caused Hank this last month.

Those statements certainly pique Gavin’s attention. 

“Whoa, Elijah, like Elijah Kamski?” 

“Yeah,” Hank growls, “Slimeball bought the damn place.” 

Gavin’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. 

“What happened to Floyd?”

“Prison.”

“Oh shit,” Gavin laughs, “yeah, well, serves him right.”

“In many ways a change in management has been beneficial for the club,” Connor adds. “I make my own schedule, Elijah doesn't take a cut of my tips. I can work the floor or the rooms whenever I want.”

“Huh,” Gavin says, “Sounds too good to be true, sure he's not playing you?”

“Not entirely,” Connor shrugs, “but so far he’s kept things professional.”

Hank scoffs a little bitterly at that, obviously his opinion on Elijah Kamski will take more time to change.  

“More or less,” Connor compromises. 

“What's more or less?” Gavin asks. 

“Workplace fraternization for starters,” Hank can’t seem to keep behind his teeth.

Connor huffs a bit of his own frustration. But he understands. And he’d much rather they talk about this, than not. 

“Everything has been mutually consensual. He’s running a clean operation, in legal terms at least. Though I doubt that place could pass a health inspection.”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on,” Gavin interrupts, still catching up with all of this new information, “you fucked your boss?” 

“Both of them, technically.” Connor says, the side of his mouth going up. He hoped referring to Hank would ease some of the shared tension in the room.

It did, 30%.

Now Gavin’s jaw drops open and he laughs, loud and braying, positivity amused. 

“He any good?” 

Hank bops the top of Gavin’s head with his hand to end that conversation. 

“What? I'm just curious!” Gavin defends. 

Hank rolls his eyes.

“Yeah well I’m not.” 

Connor squeezes Hank’s hand before pivoting.  

“I’m very lucky to have two strong officers to protect me.”

Hank barks his laughter, but it sounds genuine and not forced. 

"Anytime babe."

Hank's lips on his shoulder again give him the confidence to continue catching Gavin up.

“I also wouldn't have understood the numerous benefits of sex toys and orgasms without the job. I think we’re all incredibly thankful for that.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Gavin laughs.

“I still want to take you two to V’s shop. I think we’re due a shopping trip.”

“I can’t even remember the last time I was in a sex shop,” Hank chuckles, but agrees. 

“Wait, who’s V?” Gavin asks and Connor flushes in a combination of embarrassment and fear. 

“Another android I’ve been seeing… They own an adult toy store on Cherry and 8th… I’m sorry I didn't prioritize telling you two about them sooner. I actually think the three of you would get along.”

The suggestion gets a moment of hesitation before gavi asks,  

“S that a girl name or a boy name? V?" 

Connor exhales his anxitey. 

"It's their name. They’re nonbinary. I spent majority of today with them actually, when I was struggling. It was helpful, to get an outside perspective on everything I was, I am feeling.”

“Are things, ya know, serious?” Gavin asks and Connor doesn't need his advanced sensors to pick up on his insecurity bleeding through. 

“Our relationship status raised today, but I’m not looking to replace either of you. And neither are they with their partner. They’ve been good to me. I’d love for you to meet them. Should you be interested.”

Connor can feel Hank and Gavin exchanging looks before Hank shrugs, pressing a kiss to Connor’s shoulder.

“Sure. Should have plenty of time. Seeing as uh,” Hank clears his throat, before saying the next 7 words in a rush, “I’m suspended for the next few weeks...”

Gavin and Connor both bolt upright in the bed, wearing nearly identical shocked expressions.

“Hank!” 

“What the phck happened!?” 

Their motions startle Sumo up and off the bed in a big commotion. 

“Wow, you guys could be twins,” Hank mutters sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

[dewracle]

Contend With Me - 4

PAIRING - Vessel x III, Vessel x IV, III x II

WARNING - NSFW, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Relationship, Forced Masturbation, Rituals, Ritual Sex, Blood and Violence, Blood Kink, Cheating, Pathetic Vessel, Sex Pollen, Vaginal Sex, Vessel has a vagina, Abusive relationships, Mental breakdown, Emotional manipulation

AUTHOR'S NOTE - A small disclaimer before this chapter begins! There IS physical violence and talk surrounding the idea of seeking death for relief. I would also like to state that the relationship between IV and Vessel is a push and pull of want and fear. No, it is NOT healthy but it is consensual for the most part. ON ANOTHER NOTE!! I'm only posting half of it here and the rest on Ao3

WORD COUNT - 6,742

CHAPTERS - 1 2 3 4

Master List - Ao3 - Contend With Me

While he was always seen as the goofball or the energetic bassist on stage, he still had his moments where he could be genuine.

The atmosphere was soured with anxiety and dread now. II kept silent as they walked closer to the manor. If only III knew how terribly things would really change after IV woke up.

They were almost to the manor, now in the shade of the trees when IV began to stir in his sleep. He groaned loudly and nuzzled closer to the warmth of III’s body, his mind subconsciously seeking comfort.

“Holy shit, he’s waking up” II was ecstatic but fearful of the inevitable reaction.

III paused when he heard IV and felt him nuzzling into him. A smile appeared on his face as he spoke. "Ah, there you are, sleepy head. How you feeling?"

III didn't wait for IV to answer as he started to walk again. "We're almost back home, buddy.'

IV whines softly at III's movement. He just wanted to be comfortable and away from the pain. His face was hidden in III’s shoulder so he was unable to see the look II shot him.

“Think he’s ignoring you.” II teased softly, hoping to keep the light-hearted mood.

III couldn't help but snort. "Ah, I'm not surprised. I ignore him on stage too, so he's paying me back."

IV whines softly at III's movement.The three finally got back to the manor, III gingerly walking up the steps to the porch. "Right, when we get inside, I'll take you to your room and we can get you some ice for that head of yours."

As they stepped into the house, IV was hit with a wave of Vessel’s scent. His head popped up and he slowly realized where he was. It suddenly became hard to breathe, his body burned yet again both in shame and arousal. He was on III’s back in the manor.

IV couldn’t react strongly due to the heat exhaustion, but a deeply pained groan was forced out of his lungs.

II grabbed III’s arm and shook his head, “Don’t move. Shit, he’s hurt.”

When his arm was grabbed, III stopped immediately and stared down at II. "Fuck. Where do I put him, then?"

He turned his head a bit to try and get a look at IV. "It's okay, Ivy. We'll take good care of ya. Just hang on."

II quickly pointed to the couch before sprinting to the kitchen. He hoped that III hadn’t taken the last water bottle without replacing it. IV was in desperate need of water it seemed.

IV tried to struggle against III, tried his luck with getting out of the other’s grip but he felt so fucking weak. A light sob escaped his mouth, pain shooting up his spine.

The sob broke II’s heart as he walked closer with the water bottle, “Hey, breathe… you’re home, you’re safe”

III did as he was instructed and gently placed IV on the couch. He turned to face him, his hand touching his face.

"God, you're burning up." He muttered. He had just turned to say something to II before he heard that sob.

Eyes widened at the sound and it also pained III to hear it from the other. "Shit... I'll go get a wet rag."

He didn't wait for a response before he sprinted to the bathroom.

IV curled up on his side, nuzzling his face into the couch cushion to muffle his pain. He felt so embarrassed to be seen like this. Crying from the pain with his cock hard all because of what? Because of a stupid ritual Sleep made them do.

II set the water bottle down and kneeled in front of IV. He stared at him before quickly stripping him of his shirt, ignoring the pained grunts.

Their blue eyes met for a second and II could see the suffering in IV’s. His own voice broke a little as he watched a single tear escape the guitarist’s eye.

“I know, Ivy… But you can’t.”

[sillystardew]

I haven't seen this before but I thought it was a cute idea, so if you like it i'd love to see it written

My prompt is the farmer being good with kids and genuinely enjoys spending time with Jas, so they agree to keep an eye on her when Shane is out of town for therapy or something (and for sone reason Marnie can't).

Cue Shane coming back and seeing Jas curled up on top of the farmer, both of them asleep on the couch after watching a movie or in a blanket fort or something, and Shane instantly having a "Fuck, I love them" moment.

The scenario could take place while they're dating, already married, or while they're still friends and this is the moment he realizes he's in love with them, i'll leave that up to you.

I'm usually an angsty mf living for the pain but tbh I just want Shane to be happy lol

Thank you!!

AGHH yes i love this prompt!! I think i saw it once or twice over on Ao3, its such a cute one!!

Gender neutral reader 🦇

-Shane spends a lot more time with Jas than he did before he started going sober, which now includes picking her up from school and hanging out with her on the weekends and during festivals

-He wants to make sure this kid has a good life. She had a rough start, and he doesn’t want to be another reason for her to feel miserable.

-so, when the day comes that Marnie’s busy and he can’t take care of her, he’s a little stumped.

-normally he would have left her with Vincents mom, but he knows she’s busy today, so who else can help take care of her?

-Well.. the farmer’s not too busy today, right? Maybe she can hang out on the farm? After all, she always talks about all the pretty plants the farmer is growing.

-He asks her, and Jas is ECSTATIC. Jas was super shy when she first met the farmer, but now she loves talking about all the fun things they do and how she wishes she could hang out with them. And now she CAN?!

-She’s hopping and skipping the whoooole way there.

-He knows you wouldn’t do anything stupid with a kid around, so he trusts you to watch her while he heads into the city for his therapist appointment.

-He decides he’s probably going to pick something up in the city to bring back for you two, like food or a game

-anyway! You and Jas are gonna have so much fun :))) I imagine she probably likes to make jewelry (kandi-style or rainbow loom!) so you guys can just hang out at the house and make cute little crafts

-She really likes movies, so you also watch a few of those. You aren’t really sure how long Shane will be gone, so you pick out quite a few

-You two eventually fall asleep on the ground in front of the tv, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and any other soft thing you could find. Your pet is curled up right alongside you two in a big cuddle pile :)

-When Shane gets back and nobody answers the door, he guesses you probably took her out to explore somewhere. He knows you keep the door unlocked though, so he walks in to set down the things he bought, and-

-Oh. My. God.

-He thinks he can feel his pupils dilate when he sees you two passed out on the floor in a little puddle of blankets. Is he crying? Are those tears?

-Takes a moment to compose himself - he literally can’t handle how adorable this is. Why is his heart fluttering? What is going on??

-He turns the tv down since it’s still running, and in the process accidentally wakes up Jas, who immediately glomps him.

“Uncle Shane!!”

“Yoba, kid, keep it down!”

-Her jumping around wakes you up, obviously

-He immediately starts thanking you and apologizing for taking so long

-You’re like, half asleep. You dont process any of it

-after you wave them off and they start heading home (with Jas rambling the whole way about what you two did) he kind of just feels a dawning “oh, shit.”

-lets just say he didn’t get the recommended hours of sleep that night

(If anyone wants this turned into a proper fic and not just this bulletin-style type of writing, let me know! Im thinking of starting an Ao3 account for a shane fic I’ve been working on, so I need other things to post on there too ❤️)

[hecate-spawn]

oh and minoharu mizuena and/or poly jump for ship bingo :)

alright let's do this

HOLY FUCK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. THEY'RE SO 💕💕💕💕

Like. At night I can't sleep because I am thinking about them. Lonely universe makes me what to be sick (in a good way) because of them. They're perfect. It's perfect. I am the expert on MinoHaru → a fucking liar

But like. Minori saw Haruka when she was ten and Haruka had such an effect on her that she wanted to be just like her. She found Haruka so perfect and dazzling and inspirational and that stayed for years. She's loved Haruka the idol for six years because to Minori that's what Haruka was. An idol. She wanted to be someone that spreads hope just like Haruka Kiritani

And then Minori met Haruka. The real Haruka. And Haruka met her.

Obviously Minori's ecstatic and Haruka is overwhelmed but they become friends. And Minori learns about why Haruka quit. And about what happened.

And Minori works herself so hard to put on a performance for Haruka so she could see the sea of blue light sticks she loves so much. Minori is able to make Haruka an idol again. Minori loved Haruka so much she worked her butt off to be able to put on a performance to bring Haruka back

And yes, Minori is still Haruka's number one fan but she knows Haruka. In the time to hang out event she plans it because she wants to get to know Haruka, the real Haruka, better. She forces herself on a rollercoaster and admits to Haruka that she doesn't feel like she's the best partner for her and that someone like An would be better. I think the fact she's self aware of that is great.

But Haruka reassures Minori and it's so sweet.

Minori knows the real Haruka. Minori knows how hard Haruka works and how kind Haruka is and she still wants to be by her side. "I saw you were perfect. And I loved you. Then I saw you weren't perfect and I loved you more."

And Haruka. Holy fuck Haruka loves Minori. Because she knows how hard Minori is trying and how passionate she is and she knows Minori can do it. She's had so much faith in Minori since the beginning. And she knows that at first everyone was hard on Minori during live streams and just aurgggh.

I can't right now. I love them so much. They love each other so much. They trust each other so much. They're perfect.

They give each other hope, they lift each other hope. They're perfect. I need them to be canon so bad like holy shit. True love. I could write essays and I do in my head. However right now I fucking can't I'm so sorry. Um . Go listen to Minoharu lonely universe right fucking now.

They need to get therapy.

Mizuena is genuinely really good. I'm insane about them if I think about it too much

Like fucking shit. A lot of people portray their dynamic as teasing and it is but like.

Ena promised to wait for Mizuki. No matter how long it took. Ena wants to help Mizuki so fucking bad and she doesn't know how. It's that helpless of knowing something is wrong but you can't help. Ena promised Mizuki she'd wait for them forever. No matter what. Idk man sounds like a declaration of love to me.

And Mizuki wanting to tell Ena so fucking bad but being so scared Ena would push them away if she knew. Because Mizuki finally found a place where they belong, people that understand them, people that care about them. It's like a scale that if tipped too much they could lose everything.

And then Ena says she'll wait for mizuki to tell her everything.

Poly jump works because Minori is gay for everyone and everyone is gay for Minori. They're perfect. They have sleepovers a lot and kiss. I don't have a lot to say I just think the concept is great

[bmodiwrites]

Stay Cool, It's Just A Kiss

Howdy sailors! I'm busting out of my normal Steddie mold to dabble with TomGreg. This flew out of me like I was possessed. Here's hoping it at least makes sense! Read all of it down below or click over to AO3 to check it out there. It is rated E, so minors, don't do the thing... Let me know what you think - I could be persuaded to play with these two more in the future!!

Stomping, because he’s already feeling a little heated, Tom loudly makes his way into the ludicrously nice place Logan Roy is housing this all too glorious get together. He’s in the sort of mood that makes the glitz and glamor of richness around him not nearly as shiny as usual. Like always, Tom is floundering around water he doesn’t really belong in, just trying to stay alive.

He tells himself that’s why he unashamedly propositioned Shiv’s infant cousin. Playing it off as a joke is easy because this Greg doesn’t know him all that well. He’s not aware of Tom’s need to fill in the empty spaces with sarcasm and genuine assholishness. For all Cousin Greg knows, Tom is exactly how he described himself – a total fucking prick.

Yet, there’s a part of Tom that recalls the way Greg’s face looked in that awkward moment they experienced together. Usually, Tom is met with immediate disgust but Greg is more confused than anything. His eyebrows squint together heavily, as if scrunching up that gorgeous little face will give him the answer to the mystery that is Tom and his big fat mouth. Greg, who is a stranger to both Tom and the rest of the Roy’s, doesn’t really blink an eye. He simply stares at Tom – there’s no punch thrown or immediate denial. In fact, Tom is over the moon to remember the blush that prettily flitted across Greg’s face.

The infuriating repetition of that sight is the whole reason Tom had to excuse himself from the game in the first place. Between Roman being an asshole and the half-hard monster dick in his pants, Tom can’t focus. He needs to get away from the people who will have a field day if they ever learn about Tom’s instantaneous crush. Shiv knows him well enough to spot the truth in Tom’s proposition if Greg ever decides to buck up and share that little interaction. There’s no hiding from a truth that is only brushed to the side now because Greg doesn’t know any better. How can he – he hasn’t been playing ball with this crazy family they’re surrounded by – not like Tom. Tom understands the unspoken rules of existing amongst the Roy’s.

Never show weakness.

Always keep yourself in mind first.

Play your own game, no matter who you hurt.

With a tidbit of information like this, Tom is certain his entire department could be swept out from under him in the matter of days. It’s best to hold humiliating secrets tight to the chest as a means of protection.

Never mind the fact that Tom isn’t all that ecstatic about sharing the sight of his ill-timed boner with the rest of Shiv’s marvelous family. They already hate him – Tom is scared to think about the kind of fuel his inappropriate state at the moment could add to the rip-roaring bonfire already burning insignificant things down to the ground in its wake. Where the lunatics he’s hoping to marry into are concerned, Tom is better off being the joke than some ruddy pervert.

Upon entering a spare bedroom that no one else looked to be rooming in, Tom immediately let out a huge breath. His palm shifted to the front of his pants where his erection strains for attention. It’s too much to deal with at the moment, playing the never ending board of chess and navigating a midlife crisis where wanting to fuck a near child is actually a good idea. Never mind the fact that Greg, the man-child in question, is Shiv’s cousin. That in and of itself is a lot to unpack and Tom is already feeling a little desperate. Trying to make sense of any of it just isn’t in the cards right now.

Instead, Tom forces his hand back down to his side and away from the pounding need desperately trying to escape. Closing his eyes, Tom tries to think about something, anything at all, that gets his mind away from long legs and blinking doe eyes. He tries to pull up his first bout of embarrassment in seventh grade or the time his mom almost walked in on him jerking off – yet nothing works. There’s no escaping this blooming obsession.  

Tom, without the visual cues of the world around him, is better able to focus on the puzzled expression on Greg’s face and the way his first words aren’t no. He allows himself to picture Greg’s pupils blowing wide with arousal. The skin on the back of his neck prickles as that fantasy morphs into something a lot less wholesome than nature’s reaction to pleasant stimulus.

His mind shifts to those eyes looking up at him as Greg kneels between his legs, that same wrinkle to his brow there, too. Only now, it exists because Greg is focusing on the task at hand – deep throating Tom’s enormous cock and loving it. The vision of it is so vivid that Tom is genuinely disappointed when he blinks back to the here and now without any of his imagination following along.

He wants to curse at the person incessantly knocking at the door, disturbing his unsavory musings, but he’s seconds away from getting caught with his hands down his pants. In a lot of ways, the interruption is a blessing in disguise despite the feeling of hollowness opening up a little in Tom’s chest. Whatever’s waiting for him out there has to be better than a dirty round of masturbation in Logan Roy’s spare room.

----

All kinds of confused and a little turned on, Greg decides to follow Tom back into the house. It’s not like anyone is going to miss him – most of his ‘cousins’ are still calling him Craig, even. There’s no one looking at him as he drops his mitt to the ground and strides away. The lack of attention should make Greg’s skin crawl but his mind is otherwise occupied by sharp words and a question made into a joke that Greg is certain really isn’t.

At least, he’s positive enough to open the door after Tom goes through it and test his chances.

Where he’s at in his life, what does Greg really have to lose? Somewhere in that garbage talk Tom threw his way, Greg knows is a real truth. There’s something in his gut that says Tom, someone who’s important enough to be here today, will take care of him if given the chance. At the moment, Greg’s entire body is thrumming with the thought of his current needs being met. Despite risking a beatdown from some jackass, Greg’s steps are sure. His mind is made up.

Greg forces himself to wait to knock after Tom enters the room. He hastily counts to 100, skipping a few numbers here and there in his excitement. For the first time since reuniting with his ‘family’ Greg is feeling some modicum of exhilaration. His entire life isn’t a dumpster fire, not with the prospect of something interesting happening with this fascinating man named Tom.

Fist rising, Greg taps out a soothing rhythm as he asks for entry. There’s no reason for Tom to think it’s him so Greg is not surprised when the door is pulled open in the most aggressive way. They share a heated look for a second, their eyes locking as Tom gathers up the small details of the situation to better orient himself. Greg doesn’t know him all that well but it’s easy to see Tom tries to cloak himself in the guise of control. That’s why he swears and says mean shit, to stay one step ahead – Greg is almost certain of that.

Caught up in his runaway thoughts, Greg misses Tom’s first question. His cheeks color when the older man closes the space between them to get in Greg’s face. “Are you stupid? What are you doing here, Gregory?”

The words his mind came up with on the walk over are nowhere to be found. Greg’s mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish – the impression he wishes to make is crashing and burning by the second. Soon, he’ll be much too embarrassed to do what his body (and heart) so desperately want him to do.

So, instead of answering, Greg pushes into the room, past Tom, without saying a word at all. His long legs carry him across the soft carpet, putting a bit of space between them again. Despite trapping himself in a corner like a caged animal, Greg feels better knowing walls and a door stand between them and the rest of the feral beasts out there roaming freely. In this space, their secrets, whatever they may be, remain safe and sound.

At least, that’s what Greg is hoping for.

Cutting all of his loses and screwing up the right amount of courage, Greg finally says what his mind supplied instantaneously after Tom asked his inappropriate question. “I would, you know.”

There, he’s said it. It’s out in the open.

Except, Tom squints at him, both hands coming up to cross over his chest. He looks pissed off or taken aback – Greg finds it hard to tell.

“You would, what? I don’t speak in fucking riddles, Cousin Greg.”

Knowing Tom adds the word cousin to rile him up makes this entire situation that much sweeter. Tom has no clue that Greg is eating it up – the quasi-bullying, the mean comments and harsh deliveries. By the end of the night, Greg is the one who’s going to have the upper hand. It’s just a matter of time before Tom finds that out, too.

With a saucy smirk, Greg straightens up, making himself taller. “I would kiss you. I’d do it without being forced to, even.” He looks earnestly over at Tom, gauging his reaction.

It’s silent for a long moment – Greg starts to feel terrified that he’s made the wrong move, that he’s screwed the fucking pooch. The longer the silence goes on, the worse the inkling gets.

Tom, however, is not done surprising him.

After clearing his throat, Tom finally speaks unflinchingly. “Do it, then. Kiss me. Kiss me, Gregory – you little shit. Lay one – “

His words are easily gobbled up by Greg pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. The method is more than successful at shutting Tom up – whatever the older man had on his mind is out the window, gone and billowing in the wind for someone else to hear some other day. Now, Greg is what’s important. That much is true by the way Tom moans sweetly against red lips as Greg deepens the kiss.

The kiss turns hot and sticky sweet. Tom isn’t afraid to thrust his tongue into Greg’s mouth, or fight for dominance as things get even more heated. Both of Tom’s hands are fisted into the front of Greg’s shirt, using that leverage to pull him close. The room is suddenly hot with Tom gripping him so tightly in conjunction with all the other stimuli attacking him, too.

Greg is quick to pull away, though only far enough to get his jacket off of his arms and onto the floor. Without that restriction, it’s glorious to move his rapidly cooling arms. Greg uses the newfound freedom to wrap Tom up in his grip until they’re pressed together chest to chest. Then, Greg abuses the small advantage his height gives him to walk Tom back until his back is pressed against the door. There’s fire in those blue eyes that is new and exciting – Greg desperately wants to see so much more of that.

----

Tom is having a mental breakdown.

That’s all his mind can supply him with as Gregory Hirsch, Cousin fucking Greg, barges into the room and kisses him with gusto. There’s no other explanation for the divine press of lip against lip, nor the sense of satisfaction Tom feels with every brush and swipe of a tongue that tastes like Sprite and cigarettes. It’s maddening which means he’s very quickly catapulting towards the whims of insanity.

Or, he’s about to have the best sex of his life. Tom, being shook up and oxygen deprived, is still trying to decide.

His mind whirs on the subject with every second that passes. It’s astounding to realize that thinking and having his mouth fucked by a man-baby is a hard thing to do. Greg, despite being all gangly limbs and awkward youth, is a good kisser. His hands are huge and take up a lot of real estate on Tom’s back and sides. Despite never admitting to it before, Tom is a big fan of touch like this – his body is on fire, slowly burning away with each new exploratory graze Greg’s big hands choose to bestow upon him.

There are so many other, much more important things, that Tom’s mind can fixate on but the world is all but narrowed down to Greg’s lips and the undulating push and pull of their hips grinding together.

When the hell did that even happen?

Taking so far aback, Tom struggles to pull away from Greg’s incessant ministrations. They both let out what seems to be a sigh of disappointment, though Tom’s head is immediately clearer with a bit more space between them. He’s already too deep to back out but he’s not going down without a fight.

“What do you think this is, Greg? Do you really think I’m that easy?” Tom asks, trying to school his face into a look resembling shit eating. It’s hard to do anything but pant and smile, however – Tom feels the best he’s ever felt. More happy and carefree than any other moment with Shiv or anyone else. He’s so fucked, Greg’s answer doesn’t really matter.

Though, it too aids in the warmth that fills Tom’s guts. Greg, it seems, without even knowing him or interacting with him more than once, has Tom pegged. Right from the start, Greg knows him better than Shiv or Logan, hell even his own mother.

“Yeah, I do. I think you asked me to kiss you because you want me. You want me in the sort of way that uh – makes it hard to do like anything but blurt out the dirty truth. You weren’t joking or stumbling nervously through a thinly veiled attempt at a threat. I interest you and you like that. You want me, Tom.”

Greg enunciates his words with a shift of his hips and the subtle roll of their cocks finally brushing together. The feeling of victory is so sweet – Tom’s cock throbs against Greg’s own, each pulse getting hardier with all the new words that pass through Greg’s lips. Tom likes being put in his place – that much is clear by the jeering taunt and the desperate sigh he can’t help but sigh.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck – Greg, how did you know?” Tom mumbles a half a second before pressing their lips together again, this time much more desperately. His hands move from the front of Greg’s shirt to the thick belt holding up shitty slacks. It’s old and ratty, easy to get the fake leather undone and out of the loop of Greg’s pants in no time. The snap of it hitting the floor makes Tom moan again, the sound echoing around the room to mix with the hasty piling of clothes being discarded.

Buttons come undone and Greg’s hands eventually join in on the fun. They’re awkwardly trying to jerk each other off after a few fumbling minutes it takes them to get each other naked. Tom huffs out a laugh and swats at Greg’s hand. After spitting into his palm, Tom wraps his hand around both of their lengths, eager to resume their desperate pace.

Minutes on end, Greg and Tom share breath. It’s glorious to feel Greg’s hips hump up against him, seeking more friction from the sleeve of his hand around them. Precum and the bit of slick his spit allows him is just enough to ease the ache but not topple them over. Now that Tom’s appetite has been wet, there’s no stopping him from getting his fill.

Not even the desperate plea of Cousin Greg in the throes of passion – though, it’s a close call.

“Uh, fuck – I’m close, Tom. So close,” Greg mumbles after a particularly glorious stroke of Tom’s hand. Their hips are rolling together, both of them on edge.

Tom has just enough brain cells to stop himself, though. His legs feel heavy as he pulls his body away just enough to turn around to face the door. He stays quiet until his chest is pressed against the wood before looking over his shoulder – hopefully glancing in Greg’s direction in the most enticing way possible.

So desperately, Tom wants to get fucked. Feel pleasure and pain and lust without having to protect his back and watch for the fallout. Intimacy with Shiv is a game. With Greg, Tom, despite still not really knowing the kid, is sure he’ll get exactly what he wants.

----

Head full of lust, Greg takes an obscene amount of time to recognize what Tom is putting up on offer. His cock is throbbing from the near orgasm, thoroughly cutting off the pipeline of blood back to his brain. Though, when the fog clears and Greg gets his shit together, the invitation is much too enticing to pass up. Especially with Tom looking over his shoulder so demurely like he is – Greg is but a man with a raging libido that’s never satiated. Throw in Tom’s good looks and his monster cock – at the end of the day, Greg is making out like a bandit. He’s the lucky one here.

Smiling at the thought, Greg sidles up to Tom’s back, wrapping one long arm around his middle. With his other hand, Greg reaches up to trace Tom’s lips with two of his fingers. Softly, almost as a whisper, Greg mutters, “suck.”

Tom wastes no time at all opening his mouth to do exactly what he’s told. The bossy man with sarcastic words and radical insults is nowhere to be found. In his place is someone needy and desperate, so taken apart that he’s thrusting his hips back against Greg in hopes of a little friction or something more.

Greg takes his time marveling at both the beauty before him and the power at his fingertips. Once he feels they’re wet enough, Greg drops his hand from Tom’s mouth, settling it between his pert ass cheeks, instead. Spit probably isn’t enough for what’s to come but Greg is too impatient to look for an alternative. Without any warning at all, his sloppy fingers trace Tom’s hole, pulling a jolt from the older man.

“Fuck, Greg!” Tom gasps, his voice thankfully muffled by the door he’s pressed against. While the party is raging on without them, there’s no need to alert the whole house as to what’s going on so soon. Greg is plenty certain Tom is only going to get louder the longer this goes on. In fact, he’s hoping for it.

After a second, Tom relaxes back, letting Greg easily push his first finger in to the knuckle. Tom is warm and tight around him, like the hot burn of the first hit of pot after a long day. The feeling of home is too much for what is supposed to be a quick fumble, though Greg can’t help the way it settles in and starts to take hold in his chest. He’s not put together enough to fight off the inevitable.

Pulling back, Greg thrusts his finger back into Tom – first gently, then with a little more umph. As predicted, Tom’s voice echoes more loudly around the room with every forward move. Two fingers replace the one eventually, the eager tips of them finding Tom’s prostate almost instantly. Greg reminds himself of that special spot and does his best to hit it with precision throughout the rest of his drawn out prep. Despite being strangers, Greg is compelled to take care of Tom, like it's engrained within him.

When impatience eventually bubbles up to the lip of their passion, Tom turns to look over his shoulder again, a glint of something unnamable in his eye. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?” Even in a position of submission, Tom is still an asshole. As the words process and Greg lets them settle in, a soft smile plays across his lips. They both know there’s no turning back now. The question is specifically to rile Greg up, to get him going and pushing things along.

Luckily, it strikes right where Tom obviously expects – Greg is suddenly desperate to make a space for himself inside that tight heat.

His fingers leave an emptiness that Tom thrusts back against, whining like a lost puppy (or horny little slut, the jury is still out) – the noise goes straight to Greg’s cock, making him even more impatient for what’s to come.

Gripping himself at the base, Greg shifts until the head of his cock is lined up against Tom’s rim. He plays with the pink muscle there, pushing and pressing against it. The tip slips in, breaching Ton for the first time.

“I don’t have a condom. Are you sure?” Greg asks, even as he’s pushing inside to slide forward inch by inch until he’s all the way home.

Snorting out a choked off laugh, Tom shakes his head that’s lulling between his shoulders. “Fuck you, Greg. Just take me. I don’t care – “

A hot burst of lust lances itself through Greg’s skin then – the permission is all he needs to thrust the last couple of inches inside so he’s surrounded by Tom in all ways. Leaning forward, Greg shifts his hips until the tip of his cock is pressed perfectly against that spot inside Tom; it makes him yowl like a cat in heat. If everyone doesn’t already know what they’re doing, it’s obvious now.

That thought sparks something in Greg. He’s a nothing without many prospects but there’s something he’s good at. He can take apart Tom, this seemingly perfectly put together person, and reduce him to groans and pleas and chuffed out noises Greg is certain the man doesn’t even know he’s making. It’s intoxicating and ludicrous all at once. He’s in no position to take or demand. He’s here to grovel, yet this man gives him things freely, without any sort of fight. His body. His trust. Even his irascible passion for more. Greg doesn’t deserve Tom or this gift but he’s going to cling to it for as long as he can.

Bursting through that thought bubble, Greg blinks back to the moment where Tom has one hand on the door to push himself back against Greg’s thrusts and the other fisting his cock. Their pace increased during Greg’s musings and things are quickly hurtling towards the edge of that steep cliff. His toes already feel like they’re hanging off and if Tom’s noises are anything to go by, the older man is standing right there with him.

Encouraged by that, Greg leans his weight even further into Tom’s back and frees a hand from its tight grip on Tom’s hips. Long fingers tangle with Tom’s so both of their hands move  ruthlessly over sensitive skin. Greg moans when the slickness of abundant precum registers – their hands are moving so easily because Tom is very wet. He’s leaking on himself, onto the floor, even against the door every time Greg thrusts forward to pin him against it. The whole scene is glorious and so much that Greg can’t hold on much longer.

Thankfully, Tom fumbles out a curse and tries to gasp out Greg’s name a second before his orgasm hits. Their hands move double time over Tom’s erection and Greg quickens his pace so his hips relentlessly thrust through their new rhythm, too. Greg lasts just long enough to milk Tom through his orgasm before the hurdle of that little death becomes the only thing Greg can think about. The free fall of cumming inside someone he feels a real connection with is novel and exhilarating and all kinds of addicting. Greg’s already hooked, wanting more before the first hit even settles.

Greg rests his head against the back of Tom’s neck, letting his chest settle and breathing return to normal. He sucks in a whiff of Tom’s cologne and fancy soap with each inhale, intoxicating him further. His head swims with a swell of happiness Greg is certain he’s never felt before.

Tom, it seems, is dealing with a similar situation.

“Fuck, fuck – did that really just happen?” Tom’s voice is wistful, like he’s still grasping for the straws of reality, of the here and now where they’re coming down from the best of highs.

Chuckling, Greg uses the last of his energy to kiss Tom’s neck. “You’re not dreaming, Tom. I promise.” He waits a beat, even presses another sloppy kiss against sweaty skin.

“I’ll take care of you, too. Just you wait and see.”

Greg doesn’t know how true his words are or how deep of a rabbit hole he’s about to head down. All he’s aware of in that moment is the rise and fall of Tom’s chest and the warm realization that the sarcastic ass in front of him didn’t negate him or try to fight back. Instead, Tom leans into him, embraces him further.

It’s funny what one ill-timed joke can do. Greg is certain it’s going to change his life for the better.

[writingsbychlo]

I genuinely like this fancast, Rhys is perfect, amarantha too, and nyx or bone carver is amazing

(I've never linked a link in a word before on Tumblr so I hope it works lol)

OH MY GOD I am so sorry, I put this in my drafts and never actually posted it.

lets break it done below the cut a little bit.

I am totally on board with this rhysand fancast, him or richard deiss, I would be happy with either. as for feyre, personally I do not like josephine langford for this role, I don't think she could convincingly play someone I would believe almost starved to death and could hunt, and do all the trails, I just don't see it. I love her, but I just don't like her for this role. mor, okay, so, margot robbie would smash the role, we know she has the acting capability, and she's gorgeous, but I just want someone else. I want someone new, margot is always the hot blonde, like, I want a fresh face. but, I wouldn't be mad if it was her, I just think there's a geat opportunity to be had.

cassian and azriel, we know I love, since they're also my fancast options. I like the fancast for tamlin, a lot, actually. like, I'm really on board with this one. elain and nesta, I'm cool with those, nothing particularly to say, I like them. lucien, yes, amarantha, sort of yes. I love jessica chastain for this role, but again, I want someone more evil-ish. I like bryce dallas-howard. the big curly hair and the snarl when she was victoria from twilight? now imagine that with red nails and an eyeball ring. just saying.

ianthe and tarquin? love. jurian is a no because joseph morgan is my eris. if you've met klaus mikaelson, you know joseph would make a perfect eris. king of hybern is a big ol' no because that man is not evil enough looking, he looks like he'd give me his biscuit if mine broke. archeron father? too evil looking. the man is supposed to be pathetic for the majority and weak, that is a man with fire in his eyes. no. I love him, but he's too strong-looking.

cressieda, yes. vivianne, no. we can't just fancast blonde dove cameron for everything, she is not our vivianne and she has no place in acotar. I love her, but no. gwyn I can vibe with. it doesn't make me ecstatic, but I can work with it.

and the bone carver/nyx? undecided, aiden gallagher just looks so god damn serious, I feel like nyx wouldn't be that serious, feyre and rhys would work hard to make his childhood happy, nothing like the childhood those two had, they wouldn't want that stress on him. I don't hate it, though.

kallias, no. helion, no. suriel, I fuck with it, that would be hilarious. eris, no, but I would love to see sam claflin in it somewhere, even just a tiny role. emerie, yes, weaver, big big yes, beron, I can work with that, I think he'd do a good job. thesan, sure, varian, personally not at all how I pictured him, john boyega just doesn't give off the right energy for me. vassa, yes, alis, no, bryaxis, big no don't just cast smaug because he'd done a voice over for something threatening before absolutely not. the rest, eh.

[luminous-letters]

Can I request head canons for sebek deuce and Jack where the reader accidentally misunderstood a situation like they walked in a room and sees said boy on top of another and they're like it's not what you think

anon this turned out to be so chaotic 💀

⚠️ warning: sexual innuendos ⚠️

He denies it, for real this time.

He swears he wasn't 'getting it on' with Sebek.

Will apologize until he feels that it doesn't bug you anymore.

Which resulted in a lot of apologies.

He made you promise not to talk about it again.

"Sebek, out of the way, I can't watch."

"Not now! I'm trying to kill that wretched mosquito."

"We have bug spray."

"I'm confident in my skills, thank you very much."

"You're straddling me, get off."

"I'M NOT STRADDLING, NOW SHUT UP."

The shoving looked...obscene to someone who knows nothing about the context of the situation. And in this case, it was you, unfortunately.

"Holy shit, that's hot."

Or maybe fortunately.

"MC? WAIT NO, THIS ISN'T— WE WEREN'T....I SWEAR. GET OFF ME SEBEK."

"What's hot?" Sebek asked, now on the floor.

"Whatever you two were doing earlier...I want in."

"Excuse me?" Jack asked, not liking where this conversation's headed.

"They say the more the merrier, right?" you chuckled, slowly walking towards the stunned duo.

"Sebek was just killing a bug— and, and uh... it's...." Jack stammered. "We weren't doing anything, I can assure you."

"What if we did something? Up for that? Jackie-boy?" you licked your lips, instantly making the wolf fixated on you.

"Y-yeah..."

"Great! The headmaster asked me to weed the field! Oh and Sebek, you can join in too! The more the merrier, am I right?" you laughed.

He prays that it'll never happen again.

He genuinely didn't think bad about it until you pointed it out.

No amount of broken eggs or collard could amount to the embarrassment he felt that day.

He begged you to keep it a secret.

Ace won't let him live this down if he knew.

"Let's test to see who's stronger, Jack!" Deuce was energetic from their early running warm-up.

"Me, obviously," Jack sat down to catch his breath.

"Hey, c'mon. We'll never know until we try."

"I beat your ass in Beans Day, that should be enough proof."

"Not enough."

"Fine, how do you want to do it?"

"Wrestling!"

"Fine by me."

Jack won the first round, knocking Deuce to the floor with his hands behind his back.

"Round two?"

"Sure," Jack laughed, helping his fellow freshman get up.

Deuce managed to beat him on the second round, ending up with him having Jack in a headlock.

"See, looks like I'm stronger."

"Oh, really now?"

Deuce wasn't prepared for Jack's quick flip. It was as if Deuce didn't weigh anything with how quickly Jack had him pinned to the ground, again.

"See? I'm stronger."

Damn, this man's a whopping dynamo of power.

"Damn it, I left my camera back home." you appeared from the bushes, reminding them of a certain stalker. "Marvelous! What a heart-stopping performance, monsieurs! Such unadulterated and animalistic passion!"

"What?"

"He means you two look sexy in that position."

"WHAT? NO, NO. WE WERE JUST WRESTLING AND—"

"Non, monsieur, there is no need for words. For we have felt the blistering heat of your passion! Such intimate beauty..." Rook shed a tear.

"We weren't doing anything."

"The words of your bodies say otherwise," Rook gasped, donning an ecstatic expression.

"I SAID WE WEREN'T DOING ANYTHING! FOR FUCK'S SAKE—" Deuce ran after you two.

"So the plan is to surprise MC?" Deuce asked.

"Yes, that is correct! I've already sought out Octavinelle's help so I know we'll be in good hands," Sebek proudly declared.

"A pleasure having me here, Sebek," Jade Leech greeted with a smile.

He should've known the moment Jade offered them that weird mushroom-topped pasta.

To be fair, it did taste good, he liked the taste.

But he didn't like the paralysis that followed.

"Now then, I'll be leaving. I have my duties back at Mostro Lounge, I hope you two enjoy the meal," Jade chuckled, his eyes narrowing.

It sent shivers down his spine.

"We should taste it first, knowing Jade, he might've put something weird in it," Deuce suggested.

That was the stupidest suggestion Deuce ever made. DID HE NOT SEE THE WEIRD MUSHROOMS?

"You're right!" Sebek said.

And Sebek admitted that he was an even bigger fool for following him.

It was the worst decision of his life.

Falling on top of Deuce because of the paralysis was even worse.

Deuce should lay off the eggs, Sebek thought.

"I would've brought some fun stuff if this was the surprise you had in mind," you said with an audible 'tsk'.

NO NOT THAT WAY. CAN'T YOU NOTICE HE CAN'T MOVE.

OH MY GOD DEUCE STOP MOVING, YOU'RE MAKING IT LOOK LIKE YOU'RE GRINDING.

"Let me have a bit of that fun~"

"Oh wait this pasta smells nice."

WAIT, MC NO.

"HOE (NO) HOE (NO)"

"Kinky. I like it."

"I know you two are grinding and all, but really? In front of my mushroom pasta?" you said while you took a bite.

"Wait...mushroo—"

And with that, you too were unable to move, dropping to the floor.

He tried to warn you.

Deuce stop grinding.

"I...geh ih nao (I get it now)"

"Hade? (Jade?)"

"Hade (Jade)."

"Huck."

[bullyhunter--69]

"She's so sweet, really."

Pairing: Izuku x fem!reader

Summary: When you and Izuku started dating, you were as happy as could be. He was beyond sweet and caring, and helped you forget about the bad in your life. But after he introduces you to his mother, Inko, and you start to be a more frequent visitor at the Midoriya household, you realize it's starting to take a bigger affect on you than you thought it would. Why can't your mother be like that?

Tw: mentions of family issues/absent family/family death, bottling up emotions and eventually breaking, a stressed Izuku, ends with soft fluff

A/N: This turned out so much longer and more angsty than planned but I'm really proud of it, tell me what you guys think! 🖤 (This is also my first ever angst written so--)

-----------------------------------------------------------

Today was a beautiful fall day. Colorful leaves fell around you, the sky was tinged with a deep orange, and the soft grass beneath you made your time all the more comfy. You were snuggled next to Izuku beneath a huge tree on campus, who was currently going on and on about his latest quirk findings. The goal you guys originally had set was to review for the upcoming test, but the topic quickly shifted to Izukus day once your fingers intertwined with his and you inquired about it.

"-and so then once I asked Mr. Aizawa about it I found that- Hey.. are you okay (Y/N)?" You really were listening, but had found that you zoned out. Izukus concerned, soft voice brought you back to reality, and a small smile crawled it's way onto your features. "Yeah 'zuku, I'm all good.. I just was thinking about some stuff and was focusing on your voice. It always helps." You ended your reply with a squeeze of his hand, which all together resulted in his face blooming into a shade of deep red.

"Well, uh.. T-thank you, I'm happy to help!" He stuttered out as he felt butterflies all throughout his body. "Oh, also!" Izuku started, turning his body to face you more, holding your hands in his lap with a nervous look in his eyes. "(Y/N), I was wondering.. we've been together for a bit now and I.. I want my mom to meet you."

As soon as the word 'mom' reached your ears, you tensed up. It was always a sensitive topic, even if it wasn't your parental relationships in question. You knew Izuku had noticed, as the hold on your hands got tighter. "I understand if you're scared or nervous but I know She's gonna love you! She already says you're really pretty and smart just basing off what I've shown her.. she really is looking forward to it, and we don't have to stay long if you don't want to." The gentle rub of his thumb on the back of your hand and the puppy dog eyes was enough to soothe your nerves. If Izuku talked so highly of you to her, and if she was anything like him at all, you figured it wouldn't be that bad to meet her. She would be your mother-in-law someday, so you might as well get it out of the way now and not later.

When the day finally came, you were beyond nervous. The thought of meeting Izuku's mother and her not liking you made a wave of sickness and dread fill every inch of your body. Whether it was a friend, or a boyfriend, meeting mothers always gave you a bad taste in your mouth. It brought back all the feelings that you tried desperately to hide away and fight daily.

See, you were almost fully open with Izuku, but there was one thing he didn't know. Your family, to put it bluntly, was shit. Your mother always belittled you for every single little action you ever made and everything about you. Nothing was ever good enough. As a small child, it was always under-the-table, backhanded compliments with passive aggressive undertones, but after the passing of your father, it turned into raw, brutal words. She was never proud, and never actually loved you, she just used your desire to be a good daughter against you. It was cold, hard, manipulative behavior which resulted in you finally refusing to talk to her after you got accepted into U.A. The mental gymnastics you had to go through to hide all of this, especially from Izuku, was taking a toll on you. You never talked of family and never left the dorms, and had an.. unusual amount of luggage stored away in your room. It seemed like you packed your entire life up in a suitcase and ran.

Which is essentially what you did.

As bad as it sounds, you never planned on telling your love any of this. You just needed to forget all of the childhood trauma you were put through and focus on showing your mother she was wrong. Everything she said about your quirk being useless, to you being intolerable and a bad daughter, would be proved wrong. But, the biggest thing you planned to show her? Is that your father would be proud. She always used him against you, and you'd be damned if you wouldn't prove that point the most ridiculous of them all.

A soft knocking on your dorm brought you out of your deep thoughts, and your gaze slid to the door. Your hands shot to your face and you quickly dried your tears. "O-one second, I'm still changing!" You knew in the pit of your gut that it was Izuku coming to pick you up, and your thoughts were confirmed when you heard him on the other side of your locked door. "Alrighty baby, take your time!" God, he sounded so sweet.. this was hell keeping from him, but it kept him from worrying.

The night went on so much better than expected, and it genuinely surprised you. You had never met a woman as sweet as Inko was. She cooked your favorite food and had your favorite drinks, and even baked you your favorite dessert. She asked about how you were doing in school and once the topic of your quirk was brought up, she was beyond ecstatic to hear you talk about it. She even added on how she felt it would be useful in battle. The night was amazing. Nothing felt real, it all was like the fantasies you made up while lying in bed at 4am sobbing, so sleep deprived you almost can't move to get ready for your class that starts in just a few hours. It's what you've always wanted in a mom-- a beautiful, sweet woman who cares.

Why can't your mother be like that?

As the weeks went on and Izuku kept inviting you over for weekly dinner and game nights with him and Inko, you found it harder and harder to conceal exactly how much your mental health was struggling. Yes, you absolutely adored both your loving boyfriend and his equally loving mother, but it was just so fucking.. hard. Every smile she gave you, the loving, motherly twinkle in her eyes when she talked to Izuku, the amazing dinners, the endless support for both of you, the pictures she insisted on taking of you and Izuku-- it was all too much. You started to dwell on this every single night, and resent yourself for how much anger and jealousy you felt. This wasn't right, but you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault that your mother hated you for every fiber of your being and Izuku had the best mother imaginable. He was your boyfriend, you should be happy.. right?

You didn't realize how hard you had been sobbing until there was a hushed yet firm knock on your dorm door. The tears that blurred your vision made it even harder to read the clock on your nightstand through the pitch black room you sat in, huddle up in a pile of blankets, All Might plushies and Izuku's hoodies.

9:54 p.m.

The pain that was radiating through your torso from the wreck you had become from however long you had actually been crying was torture. It felt like needles were being shoved into your lungs and your heart was being squeezed in a vice grip. Breathing felt impossible. Your throat was raw. But the thing that hurt the absolute worst, out of everything?

"(Y/N)? Baby, please let me in.." Little Izuku's voice sounded like the biggest bomb going off, the jiggle of your door knob making emergency alarms go off in your head. There wasn't any possible way to get out of this, and this might just be your biggest fear. Facing those soft emerald eyes and that sweet smile that has been open and honest with you over the entirety of your entire relationship, and even before. Telling the love of your life all the trauma you've endured, and then willingly decided to hide from him. No.. it's the disappointment that you're positive will shine through his features that's truly your biggest fear.

You don't know how long he had been listening, but one second was more than enough for you to know Izuku wasn't going to leave. He loved you endlessly and never left without making sure you had a smile on your face. So, with limbs that felt like cement, eyes that felt as if you were crying spikes, and an aching heart, you got up and made your way to unlock the door. It took a minute-- your hold on the cold knob firm and extremely hesitant.

3... 2.. 1.

Finally, Izuku had enough room to gently push your door open, and his breath was taken away when he saw you as the golden light from the dormitory hallway illuminated your entirely wrecked appearance.

Bloodshot eyes, make up filled tears streaming down both checks, snot dripping down to you mouth. The cuffs of his hoodie that covered your shaking body were soaked in black, wet mascara. Your hair was messy and tangled. You were.. broken.

After taking in every little detail of your appearance, a struggled gasp last your body when his arms were suddenly around you. The touch of his warmth around you was electrifying, and instantly brought you to your knees. As Izuku shut and locked the door behind him, still holding you in his strong arms, he sighed softly. "What's wrong?"

These are some of the only words that you really didn't want to come out of his mouth. They stung and tore through your heart like the sharpest of blades. They made you regret not opening up sooner, his tone overflowing with worry, fear, and dread. You knew not to make eye contact, but you couldn't even if you wanted to. Once those words entered your ears, soft and delicate as if you would shatter into a million pieces if he spoke too hard, another strangled sob was unleashed out of what felt to be your core.

"S-she's just so sweet.." Your voice, although strained and crackling, came out with an emotion Izuku had never heard from you before. A mixture of jealousy, rage, disappointment, and disgust is all he could pick out, but it sounded like something was hidden beneath it all. Something that you didn't know how to express, so emotions just came seeping out of you in the easiest way.

Picking you up was an easy task, as your body had long ago given up the fight to stay standing. The sweet boy made his way to your bed and sat with you cradled to his chest, your nose tucking away in the crook of his neck instantly to breath in his scent. It calmed you-- he calmed you, but you couldn't help but to shamefully pull your head away and look across the room.

"(Y/N), you have to tell me more. Who is 'she'? I want to help you.." His voice still held a delicate tone, his fingers combing through your hair with one hand and the other still holding you tightly. After what seemed like forever of Izuku just holding you and letting you cry every single ounce of emotion you held in your body out, your sobs slowly came to a stop and you took a soft, shaking sigh.

It was time to come clean.

"'Z-zuku, I'm sorry.." You started, slowly and steadily while trying to steady your breath further. The gentle back rubs from his warm hands helped sooth you, and gave you the strength to continue.

"I haven't been exactly.. truthful with you." As you took a second to find your words and sniffle, you could sense Izuku tilt his head to the side curiously. "You always ask if I'm okay-- if I'm happy-- and I always say that I am. I love you so incredibly much and you do make me feel happy and safe and welcomed and-" Your ramble was cut off with a kiss to your temple, which was a silent signal of Izukus trust and time.

"Because of how incredibly happy you make me, I dont want you thinking that this is your fault at all. Its mine.. I shut you out and bottled myself up when I should have just told you in the first place. I just.. don't know how to say it other than to say it outright."

Your shakey tone made Izukus heart race even more. He was staying calm and supportive on the outside but on the inside, he was a wreck. He was currently going over every single one of his actions, words, and notes that made what you and him were-- absolutely scraping the bottom of the barrel for anything and everything he could have done wrong. That stuff, though, was shoved deep so he could help you, because that was what was important right now.

"I don't.. Izuku, I love you and I love your mother so incredibly much. I feel at home with you guys but it's just so hard. Seeing how sweet and caring she is, how She's invested in both of our lives, how she.. s-she said she loved me.." You body was quickly starting to shake again, so Izuku pulled you in closer. "Why can't my mother be like that?"

There it was. It finally clicked in Izuku's mind. Everytime you avoided the topic of family, how you never had pictures with them, how you never had a place to go to during break, how every day after spending time with him and Inko you seemed drained the next morning as if you had stayed up all night.. it clicked as to what might be wrong, and his suspicions were confirmed when you continued.

"M-my mother hates me and she has my entire life. I have never received an ounce of love or respect from that filthy woman and it's always on my mind. Her degradation and her mocking laugh and her hideous presence. She used my dead fucking dad against me to make me feel like I'd never make it in this world and I just-- I-I want to escape the horrible memories but I can't. I just want a mother like yours.. it's what I've always wanted and I don't understand why I had to be the one stuck with a dead dad and a mockery of a mother. Seeing how absolutely amazing your mom is fills me with love and happiness and a sense of home I've never gotten before but at the end of the day, it just reminds me of how shitty my life was up until I got to U.A. I don't have a mom. I don't have a home. And its not fair that I'm upset over the fact that you having those things happens to remind me of that. I'm sorry."

Izuku was speechless. His comforting ministrations had stopped and he just looked at you. Even with the pitch black void that was your room, his emerald eyes shined bright.. and brimmed with tears.

"I.. I had no idea, baby, I'm so sorry.." Izuku was choosing his words incredibly carefully. He held nothing against you, nor was he upset or disappointed at you. He was a person that could put himself in someone else's shoes very easily and see through their eyes, and your emotional monologue was enough to paint your story for him. He just wanted to comfort you and show you everything was okay.

"I don't want you to be sorry, there isn't any need for you to be. You can't help what your mother put you through, and how horribly unfair to you that it was. Nobody can control how others actions affect them-- it's just how humans are.." Strong arms turned your body to face him, your limbs wrapped around his torso and your cheeks gently held in his hands. As tears streamed down his cheeks, he stared deep into your eyes. "You're so strong and beautiful, and I understand as much as I can. I love you so much.. Baby, to hell with her. I know it's hard, but she doesn't have to mean anything to you anymore. Me and you, and mom, can be our own family. We're your home now.."

A sob managed to choke it's way out of your throat, but this one was different. Your head fell into Izukus neck and you held him as tight as you possibly could, soaking his chest with more snot and tears. His arms held you back just as tightly as he peppered soft butterfly kisses along your hairline. This is how you stayed for the rest of the night until you calmed down and passed out on his firm build. Laying back softly, Izuku tucked you both in and kept his tight hold on you.

"Goodnight, love.. You're home."

[4ragon]

I'm not the original anonymous but I would extremely want to see that essay about Apollo's trust issues.

Also since I just finished Spirit of Justice, do you think Lamiroir ever told Trucy/Apollo about her and if so what would be their reactions?

Let’s see if I can write this up without crying again like I did on twitter.

So a while ago a friend of mine asked me why I liked Apollo, and I really couldn’t put my finger on it. I knew he was my favorite, but unlike Simon Blackquill, I hadn’t done that deep dive into figuring out why. I’d always just sort of loved him, and was never able to pinpoint the part that made me care about him so much. It drove me crazy, too, I love rambling about characters that I love, and I love writing from Apollo’s perspective more than anything. So why did I love him? Why did I care about him?

Well. I figured it out. I figured out my answer.

I think there are two things that characterize Apollo more than anything. One: He has trust issues. He genuinely believes that the people around him don’t give a shit about him. Especially after being betrayed multiple times in that first trial, he truly and deeply believes that the people around him are only trying to hurt him and is too scared to really believe that they care about him.

And two: He cares so much about the people around him that he constantly helps them anyway.

So like. And I won’t tag her because I don’t think she’d appreciate it, but I was watching the laquilasse AA4 stream last night, and the entire opening of Turnabout Corner is so striking to me, especially right after the end of Turnabout Trump. At the end of Turnabout Trump, Apollo’s trust and belief in Phoenix is finally and thoroughly shattered, and Apollo lashes out, punching Phoenix in the face. And for good reason! That was a huge breach of trust! Apollo literally did the exact thing that got Phoenix disbarred, namely present evidence that wasn’t real. Sure, they never exactly claimed it was the real deal, but Apollo didn’t even know it was faked, he just trusted Phoenix and this new piece of evidence and it almost fucked him over. It did sort of fuck him over, he did lose his job and his Mentor.

And then, Phoenix calls him and says that they’re in trouble, and Apollo doesn’t even question it, of course he shows up to help.

Like. You can feel how much he mistrusts Trucy on their first meeting, in everything he does and says. Especially when Trucy and Phoenix are in the same room, he’s actively thinking about how he doesn’t ‘buy their act’ when Phoenix is calling Trucy daughter-ly nicknames. And then, in a way, he’s kind of right? They guilt him into essentially being their errand boy, and I feel like they’re constantly and loudly using him throughout so much of the game.

And Apollo was there anyway. Apollo doesn’t even trust them and he’s still there the first instant Phoenix says he needs his help.

Like you can loudly do and say whatever you want and crush his dreams and betray his trust, and despite everything, there’s always that part of Apollo that desperately needs to help anyone who asks him. He can’t even bring himself to trust them, and he’s still crawling back the moment someone needs him, ready to let them disappoint him over again.

Like this struck me about Apollo from the moment I played AA4, but he’s so lonely? And desperate for connection? He cares so much about a world that has always and consistently never cared about him, and he just keeps caring and keeps caring even as that starry-eyed naivete is ripped away. And I feel like he just wants someone to care about him back, but never really able to believe that they do, because they never really seem to, because every time he allows himself to trust it’s just thrown back in his face so horribly.

Here’s an interesting thing I noticed: in Turnabout Trump, there’s a really interesting line. Phoenix has accused Kristoph of being the murderer, the extra person in the room. Kristoph takes the stand and claims to have witnessed the moment Phoenix committed the murder. And this exchange happens:

Apollo: There must have been someone else there at the moment of the crime!

Kristoph: Justice... I just said I saw no one. Not a soul.

Apollo: B-But, that goes against what Mr. Wright said!

Kristoph: Ah yes, this mysterious "fourth person"... ...who would conveniently be the "real killer", I suppose.

And this is well past the point where Phoenix has accused Kristoph of being that person. There’s no possibility at this point that they’re both innocent, it’s either one or the other. And Apollo is still so desperately trying to find a way for them both to be innocent, basically saying, “Just give me a fourth person and I’ll believe you.” And then Kristoph turned out to be a monster, and then Phoenix turned out to have betrayed Apollo from the start, and as far as Apollo is ever aware, none of the care from either of these men was ever real. He trusted, and he suffered the consequences.

But again. He’s still there. Someone pointed out a while ago, but Apollo stays. Apollo shows up to the Wright Talent Agency under false pretenses, and he complains and hems and haws, and he still stays. Why?

Phoenix and Trucy loudly manipulate him into working their case. They’re perfectly happy to flaunt that they’re basically tricking him. And he stays. Why?

Because Apollo can’t trust them, but he wants to so fucking bad. He doesn’t even seem to like Phoenix that much, but he wants that connection so fucking bad. He cares about them so much and he doesn’t believe for a second that they extend that feeling back at him, and he’s compelled to stay anyway.

He knows Trucy is practically using him, and he’s a sobbing mess when he thinks she was kidnapped for a few minutes. He’s cynical and mean and it’s all just to cover up the fact that he loves all these people around him with all his heart and they never once pay it back. And he comes back anyway. He’s like a fucking loyal dog that is never given enough affection and so he’s constantly trying harder and harder to earn that love while never believing he’ll ever really get it.

(Shit nope crying again)

It’s just so sad. And this is all without adding anything from the 3D games. The 3D games do build on this theme in one way or another, but from the get go, this is who Apollo is. A caring young man who is constantly punished for caring and yet can’t stop caring anyway.

We see it again in the 3D games. And I think part of why I don’t enjoy DD as much as SoJ is that DD doesn’t capture this mistrust the same way. It’s so surface level, that sense of betrayal and mistrust and anger he gets consumed by in that final case. And the worst part is it doesn’t have to be! There’s already that foundation! Apollo has been hurt already a million times. The only person he’s ever been able to trust, the only lifeline that’s kept him above water since he was a child, was Clay Terran, and now that was taken from him because he DARED to trust someone new. That’s so fucking compelling! But we never get that! We never get to see how Apollo is feeling. We get that he’s convinced Athena did the murder, but never really get into the Why, into the What This Means for Apollo.

It’s a bit better in SoJ. We see how far he’s come in terms of trusting people when he trusts in Trucy wholly and immediately in case two. And then, conversely, we see his mistrust and hurt when they introduce Dhurke into the mix. Apollo refuses point blank to believe that Dhurke had come to visit him, that Dhurke cared about him. Apollo demands to know why Dhurke was there, what Dhurke wanted, how Dhurke was going to use him. He’s been able to slowly start building that trust with people like Trucy, but he still cannot let himself trust again when Dhurke had already betrayed that trust.

I said it before, but as much as I hate the slapdash ways in which Capcom keeps throwing backstory at this boy, I love what the backstories are, because they build on this angry, cynical, lonely young man I care about so much. He’s been hurt and abandoned and used and betrayed since he was young, and being good never truly paid off for so long, but he kept doing it, he kept being good, he kept caring about people because he couldn’t help it, and kept hoping that maybe they could care back. And eventually I think it does start paying off for him. People do start caring about him. And I feel like it takes until around SoJ for him to start really believing that the people around him might care about him too.

Also congrats on finishing SoJ! Since there’s a very good chance that they might be announcing AA7 soon, I...hope? fear? expect? that they’ll touch on this then. However, I also worry that they’re going to botch it up so hard.

I know what I want to happen. I want Trucy to be angry. I want her to be angry at Lamiroir and Phoenix. She is constantly putting on a mask to try to make the people she loves happy, and I feel like this is a reasonable breaking point. After all, this is kind of the one thing that Phoenix hasn’t been honest with her about. She had a brother right there, and knew the whole time?! She had a mother there the whole time?! And no one bothered to tell her?! I think she’d be heartbroken, and I think she deserves to be angry. She’s been through so much, and they never give her time to really grieve or be upset.

I think Apollo would be ecstatic and angry at the same time. All he’s ever wanted was family, and now he does! He already loved Trucy, and thought Lamiroir was amazing, so I think he would be so happy to have that family back in his life. On the flip side, I do think he’d be angry at Phoenix, particularly for keeping it to himself before Lamiroir came into the picture, but I think if they talked it out, Apollo would come around to it and be able to forgive Phoenix.

[invisibleraven]

"I'm not giving up on you" for Rulie?

Julie hated hospitals.

Of course she did, between losing her mother in one, having to visit Carlos in one after a nasty break in his arm. The terrifying days after her papi's ulcer burst. Honestly Julie could have lived the rest of her life never stepping foot inside a hospital again.

But here she was, dropping off coffee to the nurse's station, and winding a familiar path to a room where Reggie lay in a bed. What felt like a million machines were attached to him, their whirrs and beeps almost comforting, as they meant Reggie was still here, still living. "Hi corazon, I missed you last night. The bed is too big without you there taking up half of it. So you need to wake up, come home, and hog all the covers again."

She did this every day, and every day she had to cling to hope that Reggie would open his eyes, squeeze her hand. Anything to show that he heard her, that he was coming back to her. But the weeks were growing, and she knew the doctors were getting ready to have that awful discussion with her.

But Julie wasn't ready for it. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to her husband. Not ready to be a widow at such a young age. Her father's grief from losing Rose well over a decade ago still burdened him, so Julie couldn't fathom living the rest of her life missing Reggie. She grabbed his hand in hers, squeezing tight, feeling his pulse steady and strong under her own. "Now you listen here Reginald Molina, I am not giving up on you. So you had better come back to me."

Still nothing.

Julie laid her head down on the bed, letting the tears fall, soaking the thins sheet beneath her, wishing more than anything that things were different. That Reggie had been just one minute later on his walk home and avoided getting hit by that cab. That it had been Julie instead lying here, but no, she wouldn't wish this fate on anyone. Not this living death, this anxious waiting for something to change, for Reggie to wake up. But deep down, Julie feared he never would.

Julie must have fallen asleep crying, as she felt gentle fingers working through her curls, and she purred a little. It had been too long since she awoke to someone playing with her hair. She turned her face to the side, slowly opening her eyes.

And a pair of familiar green ones were looking right back at her, a wide grin on his face. "Good nap?"

"Reggie!" Julie almost screamed, leaping up to hug him, tears flowing freely once more as she embraced him. "Oh my god I thought you would never come back to me and you scared me so much! Never do that again!"

"I dunno what I did, but I'll be sure not to if it upsets such a gorgeous creature like yourself," Reggie replied and Julie had to pull back, so happy to see his face, alert and reactive once more. "Now... would you mind telling me who in the world you are, or who I am for that matter?"

Oh fuck

Julie collapsed into the chair, looking at Reggie. He looked the same, but the confusion in his eyes seemed genuine. He wasn't giving her his usual lovelorn look when he wanted cuddles (aka near constantly) and she wasn't supplying them. "You really don't know who I am?" she asked, her voice timid.

"Other than a beautiful woman who seems to care for me enough to nap by my side while I'm attached to a Death Star's worth of machinery, not really." Okay, so he still knew Star Wars... but not Julie? But then he reached for her hand, thumb rubbing over the smooth metal of her wedding ring, and the understanding washed over him. "Oh hun, I am so sorry. I am probably the worst husband, worrying you like this, and now I don't even know your name."

"I-it's Julie. Julie Molina. And you're Reggie Molina. We've been married for just over five years. Before the accident... we were trying to start a family."

Reggie looked ecstatic at that prospect. "I love kids. Tell me more. Tell me everything."

"We should probably let the doctors know you're okay first. We have all the time in the world to catch up," Julie amended. He nodded, and soon there was a flurry of activity, but Reggie never let go of her hand, not for anything.

It took some time, lots of physical therapy, and lots of little adjustments, but they made it work between them. Their relationship not fully back to what it was, but they were getting there. Sharing their bed once more, though their affection was limited to chaste kisses for the moment. Julie awoke one morning, the hospital almost a distant memory of weeks ago. And there was Reggie, blinking awake and smiling at her. The gleam in his eyes so reminiscent of how he used to greet her in the mornings.

"Mornin' darlin'."

Julie burst out into tears. "Oh Reggie, you're back!" She said, flinging herself into his arms, crying into his chest.

"Didn't know I went anywhere," Reggie quipped, kissing her curls. Then tilting her head up to press a lush kiss to her mouth, the salty tang of her tears melding together with the flavour that was all theirs. He pulled back, eyes alight. "God I missed you."

"Me too," Julie whispered, her voice shuddering from the crying and how overwhelmed she felt. She questioned him about all the things he'd forgotten; their first dance, their first kiss. The song he wrote for the band to play at their wedding. He answered each one flawlessly.

The day was filled with jubilant phone calls, many hugs and after the last friend had gone out the door, Reggie turned to her with a smile. "You know, in all of this, I have to say was the giddy feeling that I get knowing I got to fall in love with you twice."

Julie grinned and shook her head, pulling him in for yet another kiss. "You know I'm always falling for you, every day I find something new that makes me love you all the more."

"Thanks, for not giving up on me," Reggie mumbled against her lips.

"I could never," Julie replied. "We have a family to start. Right now, if you want." Reggie beamed at that, and pulled her towards the bedroom, their laughter ringing out into their home long into the night.

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is part 2. You delve deeper into your relationship with Poe and he reveals some secrets about himself that break your heart.

Will you ultimately sign the papers and walk away?

Warnings, smut, angst, talk of PTSD and genocide, fluff, not for anyone under 18.

Scene 2, Aftermath

The atmosphere in the room immediately changed, from the giddy euphoria of great sex to one of awkward silence.

You had given in to temptation and his seductive charms. Poe could look at you with his smoldering good looks and he knew that you would soon be in his bed.

You hated yourself for having sex with him and enjoying it too. But Poe had that effect on you, mentally and physically, it was nearly impossible for you to resist him.

You suspected that Poe knew this, and took advantage of it at times.

After a chance encounter at a birthday party for a mutual friend you met Poe. You fell hard for the handsome, brave black leader and he fell for you too.

You were both absolutely besotted and had trouble keeping your eyes, and hands, off of each other.

You'd never loved anyone with such an intense passion, a ferocity, as Poe.

After dating for nearly one year the two of you decided to get married in a quick but lovely little ceremony. Surprising everyone around you.

Some of your friends had expressed a little concern that things were progressing too quickly, including Finn.

But you were too blinded by love, maybe even lust, to listen.

Your son was conceived on your wedding night, both of you were ecstatic at the news that you were going to be parents.

But noone was more excited than Poe. No matter what he tried to be there for every check up and pampered you while you were pregnant and after the birth of your son.

Everything happened at a dizzying pace, a blur. Within two years you had become a wife and a mother.

You were starting to realize that maybe things happened too quickly. That instead of spending a little more time to know and understand Poe you had instead rushed off, gotten married and had given birth to his child.

But then you would gaze into the dark eyes of your beautiful baby, kiss the top of his little head that was covered in dark curly hair and see Poe, your husband, and start to fall in love even more.

It was a painful cycle that was ripping you apart at the seams.

"I guess I could say that I'll always have some affection for you because you are the father of my child." You explained calmly as you looked down. "But I can't say that I love you anymore".

"I'll always love you but then again I'll always love Finn too". Poe confessed as he looked away from you. "We have a special bond that you wouldn't understand, we've been through so much together".

"Why weren't you honest with me about Finn? Are you still closeted?" You continued calmly. "I don't get it, I feel like I was lied to and led on".

Poe looked irritated at your choice of words. Finally with a deep sigh he looked at you and said,

"There was never a closet, I fucking hate that term".

"Then what was it then?" You continued, genuinely curious.

"I always assumed that everyone knew about us, that Finn and I were more than friends, we were so obvious at times". Poe continued, laughing bitterly. "But certain higher ups didn't want us to be together so we kind of kept things hidden, a secret".

"I'm so sorry to hear that and I can't say that I understand how it feels". You confessed as you looked down again. "Just so you know I don't hate Finn, this isn't his fault, he's still my friend".

"Jakku broke me a little". Poe confessed with a bitter laugh as he fought back tears. "A lot, actually, I still have nightmares about everything sometimes, Finn supported me and helped me with things when noone else wanted to, or could, he understands me".

Poe's candid and raw confession brought tears to your eyes. You could see the hurt and torment in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

"If you want to cry, do it". You told him with a slight smile as you took Poe into your arms. "Let it all out, if you can, talk to me".

"The first order killed everyone in their path, including women and children". Poe told you as he buried his face into your shoulder and started to shake. "A mother and her little girl were killed right in front of me, when I try to sleep sometimes I can still hear their screams".

You had to remain strong for him but your heart was shattered by his confession.

You held onto him tightly and protectively, kissing him on the top of his head, as Poe started to cry. He felt safe in your arms as you lovingly cradled him.

"I love you and I don't want you to go". Poe confessed as he snuggled closer to you.

Poe got on top of you and started to kiss you again, you let it happen, and progress. It didn't take long for him to be back inside of you, and you were enjoying soft, half asleep sex.

Your bodies, and souls, felt deeply connected.

You'd be a liar if you said that his bare cock didn't feel good inside of your body. It felt too good, actually. The raw, skin on skin sensation was almost overwhelming to your senses.

Poe enjoyed his second climax deep inside of you, you felt it too. His cock got extremely hard, and warm, as he spilled his thick seed within you.

You were taken back to the warm, beautiful night that your son was lovingly conceived.

The scent of sex clung heavily in the air, just like that night too.

Only this time you felt like the smell of your sweaty, mingling bodies was taunting you.

"This isn't good, not good at all". You confessed as you burst into tears and held your head in your hands.

"Gee, thanks a lot". Poe snapped as he turned his back to you.

"Why did you even marry me if you knew that you were in love with Finn?" You screamed as you burst into tears.

"Because". Poe snapped, sitting up and looking you deeply in the eyes as he fought back tears. "You could give me the one thing that Finn can't, okay? I don't know what I would do or where I would even be without my son".

"So you used my body like an incubator?" You screamed back as you slapped him as hard as you could across his handsome face.

"It's not like that". Poe explained as he started to cry. "I love you too, I didn't use you, it's just that you could have my children, and I guess I wanted my kids to grow up with a mom and dad".

"You picked a poor choice of words". You screamed as you stood up and got out of bed. "It's over, Poe".

You went into the kitchen and shakily signed the divorce decree, as soon as you were finished you got dressed and left, without saying goodbye.

Six months later

You were free. A single woman again. Much to your surprise your last sexual encounter with your now ex husband had resulted in a second pregnancy, another boy.

After many tears and much debate the two of you decided to keep the baby.

Poe was excited that he was going to be a father again.

Finn and Poe were living together and engaged. You had patched up things a little with your ex and were now friends.

"You're huge! How are you feeling?"

"A little tired and achy but otherwise fine, the second pregnancy is going along a little easier".

"I can't wait for our second little boy to be here".

You were nearly 7 months pregnant and had decided to surprise Poe in the resistance hangar.

He looked ridiculously sexy in his orange jumper, his curly hair askew.

Even though you were no longer together Poe was once again a loving and supportive partner.

You were the friendliest of exes. You even had plans to attend his wedding after the baby was born.

"Why did you walk away so easily?" Poe asked with a slight smile as he lovingly rubbed your massive baby bump, leaning down and kissing it.

"Everyone deserves to be with their soulmate". You confessed as you fought back tears. "And it can't be denied what you and Finn have".

"So you love me so much that you let me go?" Poe asked with a soft smile as he lovingly embraced you.

"Yes". You confessed, finally losing control of your emotions as a flood of tears streaked down your face.

"I love you too". Poe whispered into your ear as he held you tight. "And I'm sorry that you found out the way you did".

The end

[the-pale-goddess]

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

Tiffany surprises Ethan with a fancy breakfast.

It’s all cute until it turns to filth. Then it’s fluff again. Aaaaand back to slutty. A three-course, self-indulgent breakfast, if I may convey.

Rating/Category: Explicit / smut with a side of fluff

Warnings: p*rn with no plot, language

Author’s note: Coming back to my OH2 more or less canon fic business!

Here’s the smutty part of the little band aid I promised for all the harm I’ve done to you with Home With You AU. I just wanted to give you something sweet before we proceed with the emotional rollercoaster in Chapter 3...Well, I did my best, but my filthy mind would never allow me to write some pure and innocent fluff 😅 Hope it’s not too slutty for you lol You’ve been warned!

Please, forgive me the title - I just saw the opportunity and I took it lol

____

Ethan opened his eyes with a sinking feeling this Thursday would be out of the new ordinary. His bed was cold and empty. There was no cascade of black hair unwittingly waking him up with a gentle tickle on his skin, no tender caress begging him to stay in the sheets a tad longer.

Another surprise awaited when an overfamiliar appetizing smell hit his nostrils, forcing him to rush out of bed in order to investigate the unexpected scene.

The missing piece of Ethan's morning routine was dancing her way through the kitchen, wreaking sweet havoc with a pile of dirty dishes and different ingredients scattered all over the kitchen island, just to cook a tower of flawlessly fluffy pancakes – now proudly placed on display near the oven. They looked perfect, but not as perfect as Tiffany in the weak morning light; her dark wavy hair falling down on bare shoulders, in contrast to the lacy white lingerie set that flaunted all her curves. She was swinging to the tune she whistled to herself, oblivious of the lurking admirer.

„I don't think I'll ever get used to this view.” Ethan's voice got her spinning around in a flutter to face him. He was leaning against the fridge, an adoring smile playing on his lips as his eyes were roaming over her silhouette. She flushed furiously under the intensity of his gaze, trying to hide the sudden clumsiness of her movements with a sheepish beam.

„Your girlfriend cooking breakfast for you in nothing but her underwear?”

He eyed her intently, biting his bottom lip before he answered with a poker face. „My kitchen in disarray.”

Tiffany shook her head incredulously, as she strained the freshly made raspberry sauce through a sieve. „Trust me, it'll be worth it. And don't worry, I'll clean everything up later, Doctor Terminator.”

„It already is.” He pulled her body close to his, causing her back to collide with his chest. „I can't believe you're still using that nickname.”

„You have to admit it's catchy.”

„Mhm. Do you need any help?” His arm draped over her shoulder, hugging her tight.

„Sure. There's a dozen of pancakes waiting for you. Hope you're ready for a sweet death topped with whipped cream and a home-made raspberry sauce.”

„I didn't plan on falling into a food coma, but you had me at pancakes. Meaning yes, I'm ready.” The powerful combination of Ethan's soft lips and his scratchy chin glued to the sensitive skin on her neck, peppering her with featherlike kisses.

„Someone's clingy today.” She gave him a loud peck on his forearm.

„I'm starving, Tiffany.” A husky whisper rolled in her ear, the words followed by a gentle bite that sent a red-hot shiver down her spine. She chuckled to herself.

„Good! I was genuinely scared that you'd hate the idea because of your love-hate relationship with pancakes. The sauce will need a few minutes to cool down a bit, and then – Oh!” Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks when the hard evidence of Ethan's hunger pangs pressed against her butt. She dropped her jaw in surprise, slightly amused by the realization she didn't get the hint quite right – it was a different kind of appetite. She spun round to face him, the wicked smile suggested she was more than eager to play along.

„On second thought, I suppose we can have a taste of what will be served today.” Never breaking the gaze, she dipped her finger in the whipped cream and offered it to Ethan. He licked it clean, keenly watching Tiffany's face turn crimson red.

„Not bad for a mixture of fat and sugar. Though it's far from what I expected to be on the menu.” Tiffany raised her brows, fake offended, her expression elicited a hearty chuckle from Ethan.

„Well, aren't you a picky eater, Doctor Ramsey? Luckily, I came prepared.” Her finger dived into the bowl with raspberry sauce. „Try some of this.”

„Mmm, delicious.” He gushed, his tongue slithering around her finger. „But yet again...That's not what I crave the most.”

”I wonder what would that be...” She bit her lip seductively as she reached for Ethan's hand. He swallowed loud and moved a bit closer just when she slipped his thumb into her mouth. The provocative movement had his imagination run wild. „Aren't you gonna tell me?”

„Tiffany, I...” Ethan failed to articulate his thought, too absorbed in sinful visions almost melting his brain.

„Tell me what do you crave, Ethan.” She demanded and he suddenly felt even weaker. His thumb got trapped in her mouth again, her other hand massaging his inner thigh through the material of his pants.

„You.” His voice dripped with wild need.

„How do you want me?” Tiffany released the thumb with a heady pop, holding his stare the entire time.

„I want to...”

„Do you want to come in my mouth?” She used his finger to brush her bottom lip, then grazed it with her teeth mere seconds later.

„Fuck...Yes, please.” He muttered, pressing his forehead together with hers.

Smiling magnetically from ear to ear, Tiffany crashed into Ethan, kissing him hungrily with their tongues twisted together. The prelude wouldn't last long, and in a flash she moved down his body – already hot and shivering with primal need. Her lips glided over every inch of his skin, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. Just when she was low enough, she flipped her hair and dropped on her knees, pulling his pants down with her.

Ethan could swear that the very sight of her mischievous smile dancing around his throbbing cock was enough to make him come. He shuddered in tense anticipation as he watched her tease him with graceful strokes of her tongue wandering around his abdomen.

„Could you...” A tantalizing base-to-tip lick shut him up on the spot and took his breath away. She followed the same path with a soft touch of her lips, quietly humming with relish. His hips bucked involuntarily, overpowered by the tender sensation, begging for more.

The unspoken request was yet to be fulfilled – her slim fingers began stroking him at the base, while her mouth covered the sensitive tip. He groaned in response, his body temperature rising to a dangerously high level. His hand instinctively tugged at her hair, tying any defiant locks in his handy grip.

When Tiffany slid his whole length into her luscious mouth, the divine warmth took away the last bit of control he had, and made him gasping for air. Fighting back the tears was a feeble effort with his huge member hitting her throat, but she rose to the challenge, gagging violently before she adjusted to a safe and steady rhythm.

Ethan marvelled at the view of her watery emerald eyes gazing into his blues as she sucked him like her life depended on it, her precise tongue and skillful hand working him up to a blissful fever. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure had him moan ecstatically, bringing him on the verge of madness. Encouraged by the guttural sounds reserved only for her, she quickened the pace, bobbing her head up and down. His muscles reacted in an instant, tensing even harder, demanding an immediate release. A few moments later, he reached his high and spilled inside her mouth; the obscene groan of his climax ringing in her ears like a favorite song. She took the load with a triumphant smirk, swallowing every drop.

„This is grossly unfair.” He leaned on the nearest countertop awestruck, satiated and out of breath, struggling to keep himself standing.

„What is?” She got up, climbing up his body, and bit down on his shoulder blade.

„The power you have over me.”

Tiffany grinned, pressing her cheek to his broad back as she wrapped her arms around his chest. „But you did like the first course of your breakfast, didn't you?”

„I haven't eaten anything yet.” Ethan turned around, falling into her embrace with a pointed look.

„All right, I'll fill you up with these pancakes now.” Chuckling softly, Tiffany took a step back, seemingly ready to start the day, but Ethan kept her in place by holding her wrist. A gleam of lust reappeared in his eyes as he was slowly regaining his energy.

„Pancakes can wait a little longer. Let me eat you out.”

Before she managed to form a sentence, Ethan's fingers skimmed through her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the ground. His greedy hands began exploring her body, tracing her curves, only to slide his fingers behind her panties and pull them off, so they would share the fate of the bra.

„You know that I've never really understood the purpose of art, but looking at this absolute masterpiece right in front of me?” Tiffany raised her brows in surprise, returning his worshipful gaze. „I think I might modify my stance.”

„Wait, is that an actual compliment, or you're quoting some lines from the poetry book you'll soon be releasing?” They both snorted with laughter that quickly died when their lips fused in the hastiest, sloppiest kiss.

„I'll let you win this one, you deserve it.”

„Oh, what a lucky day!” She chirped in sarcastic tone. Ethan shook his head and lunged for her neck, sucking at her skin.

When his lips abruptly broke away from her, she yelped in protest, but little did she know what Ethan had in store for her. The burning desire in his eyes instantly set her body ablaze. He turned her around, brushing her messy hair away from her back, and began kissing her along the spine, inch by inch, moving excruciatingly slow. His beard rough against her silky flesh, scratching her pleasantly. She closed her eyes, relishing the delight of Ethan's touch. Suddenly, a piercing smack flew across her butt.

She jumped, flabbergasted, as her blood boiled with excitement. „Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

„You liked that, didn't you?” He let out a supremely confident laugh and spanked her again.

„I plead the Fifth.” She giggled, biting her lip. His hands squeezed her bum and lifted her up. A moment later she lay flat on the kitchen island, legs spread wide and waiting.

Ethan wasted no time – his lips continued the journey across Tiffany's aching body, nuzzling her hips, kissing her thighs, licking her belly, sucking on her breasts. They were everywhere, except where she needed him most. He noticed how hopelessly she tried to catch his attention with the suggestive movement of her hips, but he decided to torture her for his own enjoyment, savoring the exquisite scent and taste of this very special meal.

Her impatience eventually rubbed off on him. At last, he nestled comfortably between her legs, and sunk his tongue directly into her soaked folds. She didn't even make an effort to tone her moans down and Ethan was quite grateful for that. His tongue worked its magic, lashing at her clit, knowing exactly where to suck to bring her over the edge. Her hips rolled to the rhythm of Ethan's licking, begging for more friction. He immediately read the sign, inviting his fingers to join the fun. He rubbed her expertly, all the while licking her swollen clit. She was so close, already sweaty and shivering, with hands on both sides of the countertop, her knuckles white from all the force she had to use to keep herself from falling down.

When Ethan kept his pace up, she knew he was going for the last bite. In the blink of an eye, she arched her back, coming hard as the outpouring of bliss washed over her. She fought for her breath, lying still with her eyes closed and mouth open.

„Don't get too comfortable there, Rookie, I'm not done with you.” She could feel him smirking against her skin when his lips moved down her trembling leg.

„Is it because last night I fell asleep during your precious documentary and we missed our daily dose of inappropriate snuggles?” Tiffany cracked up and Ethan soon followed.

„Yes and no.” He leaned his chin on her knee, meeting her gaze. „I know how much you hate both cooking and waking up early. This is the least I could do to make this morning more tolerable for you.”

„Keep spoiling me like that and I will literally melt.” A beam of unfiltered happiness spread over her face, her eyes filled with utmost adoration. „Besides, just to clarify: I hate cooking, but I enjoy doing it for you.”

An intimate silence washed over them as they stared at each other, basking in the glorious feeling of these small gestures of affection. Ethan shook his head in wonder, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her. He was certain she knew that already, probably even long before he had realized the nature of his feelings...And yet, his words failed him, offering a blank space instead of a proper way to name the drums echoing in his heart at the very thought of Tiffany. He quickly gathered himself, stood straight and cleared his throat.

„Enough chit-chat, we're on a very tight schedule. Stand up.” With a little help from Ethan, Tiffany jumped off the countertop and hooked her arms around his neck.

„Oh, I'll show you tight, sir.” She avowed with a devilish grin.

„God, you're impossible.” Ethan heaved a long sigh in response, right before their lips melted into a deep, fervent kiss.

Cutting to the chase, Tiffany turned her back to Ethan, colliding with his body. Without any hesitation, he entered her with a hefty push, filling her up in a way she'd never experienced before. She was perfectly accustomed to his size, but the standing position was brand new to them. She didn't expect that a slightly different angle could leave an all-consuming, almost agonizing feeling of fullness before he even began pounding her. A series of vehement whimpers escaped her mouth without her permission. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. If it wasn't for his firm grip, her legs would surely give up.

Ethan immediately noticed the unconcealable shift in her demeanor. He cupped her cheek, slowly pulling out of her.

„Baby, is everything all right?” He whispered, his voice full of concern. „Do you want me to stop?”

She instinctively grabbed his hand and locked her body on him in a desperate cry, every word a torture. „I want you inside.”

He nodded, relieved, pulling her as close as it was humanly possible. Her head lolled back, resting comfortably on Ethan so they could still glance at one another. They exchanged a blithe smile, reflecting the dizzying sensation of each other's presence. His lips brushed her forehead in a sweet kiss just as he began moving inside of her.

He started off slow, pulling in and out as gently as he could, keeping her steady in his protective arms. Her previous remark proved to be right – she was insanely tight and dripping wet, her scent and unrestrained moans only adding to his arousal. He knew he wouldn't last long.

„Harder, please.” She whimpered, tightening her clutch on his arms. He willingly complied, deepening his thrusts, setting a merciless pace. The sound of slapping flesh punctuated by their heavy breathing and pleasure vocalized in the most indecent way.

Everything was Ethan – he invaded all her senses, emptying her mind, leaving nothing but his name. Tiffany could feel the thunder in his heart pounding on her back; his hands were mindlessly roaming over her curves as she remained trapped in his strong embrace. His fingers snuck to her clit, rubbing her with expert precision while his cock kept on ravishing her. She was mere seconds away from another orgasm, unable to communicate in any form other than shameless moaning.

Ethan was right behind her, chasing the finish line. His deafening groans got more desperate, thrusts slower and rigid, his fingers pleasuring her frantically, until they both cried out in unison – their bodies twisted in overwhelming ecstasy.

Tiffany toppled over the countertop, breathless – her blazing flesh took comfort in the cold of the marble, with fingers skimming blindly across its surface in a desperate attempt at keeping herself steady. She had no time to recover, as Ethan's body clutched at her tight, his burning skin clamping around hers. His ragged breath hovered over her ear, just as his hand dived into the damp mess of her hair, pulling her locks aside to gently suck on her neck.

„Oh, God...We should...” She panted with her eyes closed, tilting her head to give him more access.

„Mhm.” He hummed with approval, tracing scratchy kisses across her shoulder. „I know.”

Instead of acting on the incoherent thought, he turned her around, crashing into her lips without any warning. They kissed slowly for a long minute before Tiffany retreated, gazing into the endless ocean of his eyes. A cheeky smirk flew across her face.

„You called me baby.”

Ethan stared at her perplexed, his brows frowned. „No, erm...I didn't?”

„You totally just did.” Tiffany's laughter filled the room, the sound shook him to the core, along with the realization the pet name might have accidentally slipped through.

„No, you probably misheard that.” He stuttered an evasive reply, that earned a well-deserved scoff.

„Don't try to deny that you called me baby for the first time, and it happened – let me stress that – during sex.”

„Stop it. Let's not make a big deal out of this. We still need to get to work.” Ethan countered, hoping that the final argument was meaningful enough to end the cross-examination.

„That's a very convenient excuse, Mr I'll Casually Avoid Any Uncomfortable Topic. You're right, though. We should hurry up with the proper breakfast. But let's take a quick shower first.”

„Together?” He cocked his brows, sceptical about the idea.

„Yeah, why not?” Her index finger twirled around his nipple.

„We're already running out of time, we can't afford the further delay.”

„I thought you like a challenge, baby.” She pressed a wet kiss on his chest and broke the embrace. Ethan watched her walk off towards the bathroom with a tantalizing sway of her hips. He took a sharp breath, his eyes followed her every move, scanning her naked form up and down. When she reached the bathroom door, she shot him a sultry wink and disappeared behind the door. He shook his head, transfixed and defeated, muttering to himself.

„We're going to be late then.”

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Sorry if there are any typos or mistakes, this B is too tired to double-check lol

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Taglist: I’ll post it separately in a reblog because [tumblr] is being a brat