#i even gave it one of my flannels god damn it you can put a butch in a skirt but it's still going to be inherently a butch

[steampunkedparm]

"of course you have carabiner's."

yeah??? how else am i supposed to hold my keys?????

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel takes your virginity without knowing it’s your first time and gets a little too rough.]

Smut, big age difference

“I was rough with you. I wouldn’t have just shoved myself in you so damn selfishly had I known it would hurt you.”

It had been a month since you met Joel and Ellie and began staying with them at a cabin. Ellie and you both got along great but Joel didn’t seem to like having you around.

Ellie sat at the table eating food you had made while Joel unexpectedly grabbed his shot gun and made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked confused.

“Check the perimeter” he responded without looking up at you.

“I can help-“

“No, you’re staying inside” his response was cold as usual.

“Joel, I know how to use a gun. I’m not a little girl” you argued before turning away, his eyes quickly taking a glance of your backside with the corner of his eye. Joel knew you weren’t no little girl, regardless of the age difference you had with him he knew that you were a grown woman. A grown woman he was attracted to.

Hell, it was the whole reason the man couldnt bare keeping himself around you. It had been years since Joel felt an attraction with a woman like this. But Joel had never been with someone so young and he knew his mind wasn’t the best for you. He didn’t know too much about you but one thing he did notice was there was an innocence to you he didn’t have. He felt it was better to keep his distance. In his mind, Joel didn’t want to ruin you.

“You’re just gonna have to listen to what I say” Joel finally responded low as he grabbed his belongings and left the front door.

Ellie watched curiously as you frustratedly threw your spoon and followed him out.

“What the hell is your issue with me?” Your voice making him turn to find you with a hand on your hip, God it took everything in him to control where his eyes looked.

“Get inside” was all he could say.

“You know, you treat me so unfairly since I’ve been here. I’m twenty two years old not some twelve year old-“

“I ain’t gonna tell you again” he cut you off turning away from you. Angrily you walked off slamming the door shut giving up at this point.

A while had gone by and Ellie went up the stairs to sleep at the top open floor. You watched from downstairs as she got under the covers and within a few minutes she was asleep.

It was getting late and you wondered where the hell Joel was just as he suddenly opened the door and walked in. He froze at the sight of you by the couch noticing you were wearing his flannel button shirt big enough to stop right above your knees.

“What the hell are you wearing?” His heart racing at the sight before him, all you were doing was making this harder for him to ignore.

“Ellie gave me this, I put my clothes to wash earlier,“ as you spoke he dropped his stuff to the floor without taking his eyes off you, making his way closer to you.

“I’m-I’m sorry” you began to speak nervously as he got closer, towering over you.

“I had nothing else” you continued to explain when he wrapped his arm around your waist and abruptly pulled you against him. You gasped, confused yet intrigued as he brushed his hand against the side of your neck, digging beneath your hair. He looked at you for a moment knowing damn well he was completely giving in and pulled your neck towards him kissing you, taking you by complete shock. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as he began to guide you to the couch behind you, both of you falling onto it as he placed himself between your legs.

He moved quickly which actually excited you, his body was so big next to yours his legs hung off the side of the couch. He seemed like he was in a trance, not saying a word he reached between your bodies and unbuckled his pants pulling them down far enough to expose his erect cock. The man hadn’t even taken off his jacket and he didn’t care. His breathing was heavy now reaching between your legs to pull aside the thin layer of fabric of your underwear. You were a virgin and hadn’t told him a thing, hell you didn’t want to and that’s when you felt the tip of him pressing against your entrance before he thrusted his hips and fully entered you abruptly. You whimpered grabbing onto his jacket, he leaned his face in the crook of your neck as he thrusted again making you wince. You knew sex would hurt but you never knew it would feel like this. A rough sound escaping his lips, Joel felt how tight you were but couldn’t stop himself from plunging into you again and again. Lifting his head up to look down at you he noticed a distinct look in your eyes that he couldn’t make out. Shock? Confusion? The last thing you wanted him to suspect in this moment was that he had just taken your virginity…painfully, and so you tugged at his jacket pulling him in close for a kiss.

Joel dug his hand into your hair pulling at it hard before he thrusted again making you gasp. Each stroke a little less painful than the last and before you knew it, it slowly started to feel good. From the moment he met you, Joel couldn’t stop thinking about having you, feeling you, touching you, he fought it off the best he could. But here he was, on top of you burying himself inside you and you didn’t want him to stop. Feeling you grab onto him with each movement he made only aroused him more when an unexpected moan escaped your lips loudly. Surprising yourself Joel quickly placed his had on your mouth, thrusting deeper feeling you pulsate around him. Remembering that Ellie was asleep right upstairs he kept his hand on your mouth as he began to move faster. Your legs wrapping tightly around him wanting to feel him closer than ever. His eyes locking with yours as you felt a sensation you had never felt before, he watched your eyes roll back and your body shake beneath him. A muffled moan as he squeezed his hand tighter over your lips.

“Shhh” he whispered still moving his body fast against yours. You nodded panting beneath him as he released his hand from your mouth with only one stroke left in him, he quickly got on his knees and came on your inner thigh. Never had you seen a man cum before, watching as he leaned his head back squeezing his eyes shut, more cum spilling out of him. It took everything in him not to make a sound. He sat back on the couch next to your legs trying to catch his breath before grabbing a rag close by and silently passing it to you.

“Thank you” you whispered as he cleaned himself up and quickly got up. Buckling his pants you watched as he walked to the door, you furrowed your brows confused trying to quickly put yourself together when he just walked out.

Knowing Ellie was asleep upstairs, you didn’t bother calling out for him but quickly got up wrapping a sweater around your waist.

Joel had his back to you staring out into the dark when you quietly closed the door behind you.

“Are you kidding me? You just walk out?”

He didn’t respond.

“Hello?”

“I shouldn’t have done that” he uttered low without turning to you.

“Ok well you did and….I loved it-“

“Well it ain’t happenin’ again. Drop it”

“Excuse me?” You walked over to him quickly making you feel a soreness between your legs you had never felt.

“Ow” you quickly stopped standing awkwardly in place as Joel looked over at you.

“What’s wrong? I hurt you?” His sudden concern surprising you a bit.

“No. It’s just..I mean-“

“It’s just what?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“That…that was my first time, Joel” you could see the color almost drain from his face.

“Oh Jesus” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dammit?!”

“Why are you getting mad?” You asked with confusion.

“You think I would’ve-“ he caught his voice getting loud and took a deep breath.

“You think I would’ve taken you like that on the damn couch if I knew that?”

“So what, I’m fine” you assured him.

“That’s why you were looking at me like that” he remembered the look in your eyes that he couldn’t explain. He remembered how hard he first entered you and cursed at himself. Each stroke pushing deep. It explained why you looked at him so shocked never having felt that before.

“I didn’t even give you a damn chance-“

“A chance for what?”

“I was rough with you. I wouldn’t have just shoved myself in you so damn selfishly had I known it would hurt you.”

“Joel so what? I was the one who didn’t tell you. It felt good after and I never knew I could feel something like that. I can’t explain what I felt, I don’t know what you did but that feeling…” you suddenly looked away almost losing your breath just thinking about how your body shook. Joel watched as you slowly got lost into that moment, your lips parting, hell it was beginning to arouse him all over.

“I don’t know what it was but-“

“I made you cum, darling” his voice completely distracting your thoughts.

“You made me what?”

He slowly walked towards you as you looked up at him innocently. His hand slowly caressing your cheek as his thumb found your bottom lip.

“I made you cum” he slid his finger into your mouth watching as you slowly closed your lips around it when suddenly the sound of the door opening made you both quickly back away from each other to find Ellie coming out.

“Oh man, how long was I asleep for?” Joel quickly turned back towards the woods.

“Not too long” you responded walking back to the house.

“Is there more food left? I’m kinda hungry?” She asked turning back inside with you. You nodded as you let her in front of you before looking back at Joel. You knew he wanted you again, but this time he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to do it the right way.

Maybe just once more, he thought to himself. Whatever this was you knew it was only the beginning.

[alexsoenomel]

Dreamy Skirts (Sam Winchester x Reader Smut)

Summary: Sam likes you in your skirt so a night out turns into something cheeky.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: oral sex

Word count: 1504

Note: This was a dream I had when I was 18. Enjoy! Like/reblog or both if you like it! :)

“I think I’m going to like it here.” Sam said excited while putting his bag and backpack on the bedroom floor.

It was summer and after he and his brother almost got killed on a hunt you decided enough was enough. You needed a break from everything. Nothing bad was happening in your area so you decided to take a trip to Miami. You planed the whole thing just the three of you. Hotel by the beach with great food and even found Dean a separate room which made him very happy. You and Sam tend to be….loud, sometimes.

“I think so too.” You smiled.

“Perfect time to catch up on my reading.”

“Just how many books have you brought with you Sam?” You asked knowing his book worm tendencies.

“Maybe, possibly 3?” He said looking down shyly.

You smiled remembering how you liked watching him read, the way he would get lost in the book made you happy more than the words can explain. You got closer to him wrapping your hands around his body pulling him into a tight hug. His hands rested on your back drawing small cycles on it.

“I love you. Thank you for convicting me to go on this vacation with you. I need it.”

“I love you too. And I know you do. I was worried about you. Sometimes I really hate being a hunter. ”

He smiled. “I know.”

Day one you slept in. Neither swimming nor going out, you were dead tired from the drive, so you spent in bed talking about life and eating junk food. Dean on the other hand had other things to do….like get laid.

Day two on the other hand was different. Unforgettable. After spending the whole day on the beach you wanted to go out and have a drink. Sam on the other hand wanted to go to bed at 9pm.

“But I’m tired.” He said. “And don’t really want to drink.”

“Pretty please?” You made a sad puppy dog face hoping he would surrender.

“We spend all day swimming  where do you find the energy?” He asked and got under the covers on his side of the bed. He was wearing his black boxers and a white shirt aka his pajamas.  

“I always have the energy for alcohol.” You simply said. “Come on it will be fun…plus…” You got closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I will wear something nice for you.” You whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

“You are making this very hard for me (Y/N).” 

“That’s the point genius.” You lowered your lips onto his neck feeling him breathe nervously. “Oh come on.”

“If I go now, tomorrow I want to just sit by the pool and read.” He finally said.

“Deal tomorrow will be our book club day.”

“Fine.” He got up, took his clothes from his bag and went towards the bathroom to get ready.

“Love you.” You said.

“I know you do.” You heard him say.

While he was in the bathroom you took the time to get ready. You decided a black high waisted skirt and a white crop top was the way to go. You didn’t wear skirts but when you did (some cases demanded a more classy wardrobe choices) you would always catch Sam staring and undressing you with his eyes while licking those god damn perfect lips of his. Teasing him to get what you want was your favorite pastime. The fact was you have always been a shy girl with so little confidence, but being with Sam gave you something you never knew you had, freedom. It was freeing to know you could do anything you wanted and make the first steps without getting judged or criticized. As you were about to do your makeup in front of the mirror that was near the bed you shared, Sam finished with the bathroom. He decided to wear pants and a flannel shirt. Classic Winchester.  When he entered the room he saw you getting lost in your makeup bag looking for god knows what. He stood there leaning on door frame looking at you and thinking how beautiful you looked and how no other human being had made him feel the way you did. He was lost in your beauty and fragileness in that very moment, but he also thought how sexy you looked in that skirt and how he suddenly had an urge to be underneath it making you moan his name over and over again.

Suddenly he wrapped his strong arms around your small frame and started kissing your neck which he knew it was your weakest link. You put your eyeliner on the table as soon as you felt his lips on your skin. You smirked looking at the mirror.

“So you are not tired after all?” You teased.

“I don’t think I am anymore.” He said between kisses.

“I need to put on some make up I want to look good for you.”

His hand traveled up in your skirt feeling your delicate skin of your inner thigh on his fingertips. A sigh escaped from your lips. Oh how you liked when he did that.

“You don’t need makeup.” His hand moved between your legs causing you to moan a little. “You are perfect without it.”  Sam’s confidence had always been a huge turn on for you. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood for drinks anymore.

“What has gotten into you Sammy?” You asked seductively biting your lip. “Is it the skirt?”

“Maybe…”He smirked. His hand was still underneath your skirt, slowly rubbing you through your panties. You got on your tiptoes and moaned even louder this time. “I really like it.”

“I’m glad you do.” You managed to say as you turned to face him. You place the tip of your index finger on his lips feeling its wetness and warmth. “So no drinks tonight then?”

“Seems like it.”

“Perfect.” You said and kissed him. He kissed back with no hesitation, with even more passion and fire making your body ache for him. You became needy and vulnerable under his touch. Breaking the kiss you took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed pulling him closer to him for another kiss. He bit your lower lip instantly knowing you would whimper as he pushed you down on the bed. He was right, you did whimper a little. You always do. You moved upwards onto the bed while Sam was on top of you balancing himself with his elbows. You took the shirt off with ease showing off your white bra as Sam watched you closely like you were an art form. When you tried to take of your skirt he stopped you.

“Don’t.”

“Sammy do you actually have a thing for my skirts? Because I have seen you stare multiple times.”

“I’m guilty. I can’t help it.”

“God I love you.” You said feeling like the luckiest person alive. And you indeed were.

“Likewise (Y/N)” Sam smiled and started to kiss your neck again. You tugged on his gorgeous locks of hair while his hand went underneath your skirt again. His kisses moved on your collar bones then between your breasts making you weak and needy while his hand worked the same magic again making you wet by the minute. When his mouth was close to the hem of your skirt he stopped to look at you. You were panting from just his kisses looking at the blank ceiling. He smirked and moved his head between your legs and you lost him. Suddenly he took off your panties. Dear Lord….

A few seconds passed and you could feel your body coming alive from all that pleasure he was giving you with his tongue.

“Sammy…” You moaned. “Fuck.”

The pleasure kept building up until you found yourself moaning uncontrollably. “I THINK I’M GONNA-“

And you did. Stood up on his knees between your legs with his chin shining. He took off your skirt and whipped himself clean before he kissed you again.

His clothes soon after went on the floor and your hands were all over his skin. You flipped him at one point so you were now on top of him kissing and biting him more than you should. You were such a tease sometimes. He was in his boxers so you took the chance to feel his hardness…

“What’s that?” You suddenly asked.

“What?”

“That song? Are you serious?” You laughed.

Someone played Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. You thought for a second it came from the outside but the truth was it was your alarm. Your little paradise disappeared and you woke up all hot and bothered. It was Monday and time for work. You were still single and Sam still wasn’t real.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You whispered angrily and turned the alarm off forcing yourself back to sleep. Fuck work. Fuck everything...for like 5 more minutes.

Mondays were truly great.

[embodyingchaos]

Hi! Since you are writing for Finn could you please write about the gaga episode including the reader and they help him with his red outfit or the rocky horror episode? Thank you!

❥ hi sweetheart! MY FIRST GLEE REQUEST AAAAA im so excited, i hope you like this! (so sorry this is so late!)

theatricality rewritten pairing: finn hudson x gn!reader genre: platonic, fluff, sorta angst(?) warnings: finn being sortaaa homophobic, mention of the f slur, finn being a jerk, this is like so bad im so sorry word count: 1.9k

the halls of mckinley were filled with students roaming around, conversing with one another while someone was just trying to put their books back into their locker. y/n swore as the books inside their locker fell out and plopped onto the floor, “how the hell does this even happen, i put them sideways for god’s sake.” they whispered to themselves, bending down to grab them before rearranging their positions. as they were putting their books back in, finn hudson had approached them.

“hey, y/n.” they looked up, “oh, hey finn. what’s up?” y/n asked as they closed their locker, “so many things are up. so many damn things.” he exasperatedly said, leaning his back on the wall. 

finn and y/n had been friends ever since pre-school, they used to be best friends but some things change. they both reconnected when they joined the glee club around the same time. “what is it now? rachel? quinn? puck?” “kurt.” y/n whistled lowly, “that’s a new one.” they started to walk down the hallway to head to the glee club. “what about him?” “well, my mom made us move in with him and his dad, and now- now, i’ve got to share a room with him! like the dude’s fine and all, sure, but i need my privacy and he kinda makes me feel, i don’t know, uncomfortable?” finn rambled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as his flannel brushed to the side.

y/n only chuckled, “why on earth does he make you uncomfortable?” their question makes finn fidget a bit, “he just… i’m so sure he likes me. it’s obvious. sharing a room with him is like sharing a room with a girl that likes me.” y/n gave him a weird look, “okay, i’ll pretend you didn’t just compare kurt to a girl and that you think he likes you-” “i’m not thinking it! he does!” they sighed, “right. look, if it bothers you that much, sleep in the living room. it isn’t that complicated, finn.” finn huffed and nodded as they entered the choir room.

he sat beside tina, who was looking a little off today and that’s when it clicked. “you aren’t wearing your usual goth look, t. what happened?” y/n asked her as they sat beside finn, “figgins thinks she’s a vampire and said if she wore goth any time soon, she’d get suspended.” mercedes explained, “what.” y/n deadpanned, in disbelief that their principal actually believes vampires are real.

“it’s so weird.” “this so isn’t you.” artie and finn commented, “i feel like an asian branch davidian.” tina expressed woefully, will frowned at her state. “tina, are there any other looks you can try?” mr. schuester’s question started a plenty of suggestions. “biker chick?” “cowgirl?” “hood rat.” “computer programmer!” “cross-country skier.” “catholic schoolgirl?” “a happy-meal, no onions… or a chicken.” everyone looked at brittany with concern before tina had enough of their ideas.

“look, i appreciate it, guys, but it just isn’t me. i know who i am, and i’m not allowed to show it. it’s like communism.” she begrudgingly comments before rachel stomped into the room, fervent as always.

“guys, we have a serious problem. you know, i’ve been doing some deep background on vocal adrenaline-” “isn’t that against the rules?” artie asked her, “no, not at all- or, probably. whatever!” schue shook his head at her answer, but rachel didn’t really seem to care. “anyway, what i figured out, i rooted through the dumpsters behind the carmel auditorium and i found 18 empty boxes of christmas lights.” tina’s eyes widened, “oh, no.” “which led me to joelle fabrics. i asked them about red chantilly lace and they were sold out!” rachel exclaimed and now the girls and kurt looked entirely worried. “oh, sweet jesus.” “oh, my.” mercedes and him commented, a few of the guys looked confused.

mr. schuester looked at rachel, “what?” “they’re doing gaga.” kurt explained while mercedes and rachel expressed how screwed they were. “we should have guessed it. they’re going full out theatricality. they know it’s the easiest way to beat us. damn them!” y/n took a deep breath in, they were definitely screwed.

“what’s up with this gaga dude? he just dresses weird, right? like bowie?” puck’s question made rachel scoff, “lady gaga is a woman! she’s only the biggest pop act to come along in decades! she’s boundary-pushing! the most theatrical performer of our generation, and she changes her looks faster than britt changes sexual partners.” “that’s true.” she agreed as kurt went on a rant about how amazing lady gaga is.

“it makes sense that vocal adrenaline would pay homage. it’s a brilliant move. she’s a perfect fit for them.” artie muttered, “now, hold on a second.” schue spoke up, “we might be able to kill two birds with one stone here. we can help tina find a new look and find a competitive number for regionals.” tina smiled as y/n held her hand encouragingly.

“this week, your assignment: gaga.” a round of whispers filled the room as the girls and kurt began to plot, rachel announced the ideas were coming to her, needing a pen and paper before mr. schuester pointed at his office. the boys, however, didn’t look too happy about it. y/n was pretty neutral on the topic. 

after the glee meeting, both finn and y/n walked side-by-side in the hallway as they headed to class. they turned to finn, “you look excited about gaga.” they commented sarcastically but finn didn’t catch that. “what? i’m not-” “i know. i was being sarcastic, you big doof.�� y/n smiled, “come on, it isn’t so bad. lady gaga’s got some catchy hits, like just dance.” finn tilted his head, “of course, you don’t know that song. why did i even mention it?” they muttered to themselves, looking around the hallway with a bored expression.

finn let out an annoyed grunt, “why are we always doing the things the girls wanna do?” he wondered out loud, y/n pressed their lips into a firm line. “well, if that’s how you feel, then why don’t you express it to mr. schue? i’m sure he’ll understand your point of view. sometimes.” the tall boy nodded, slowly smiling. “maybe i will.” he simply said before turning back around to head to mr. schuester’s office. “aaand there he goes.” y/n quietly commented, continuing their journey to history class.

gaga week had gone extremely well, other than karofsky and azimio picking on tina and kurt, and rachel finding out that vocal adrenaline’s coach was her mom. finn had also convinced mr. schue to allow the boys to do a song by the band kiss instead of lady gaga.

y/n was getting text spams and long rants every five minutes from finn about how much of a hassle it was to live with kurt, it was honestly starting to get on their nerves. they didn’t care about it much until they got a text from the quarterback saying he had called kurt a slur when he was blinded by rage. 

finn drove to their house and was immediately met with an upset face. “i cannot believe you called him that!” they yelled as finn fell onto their bed with his hands on his face, “i know, dude. i feel really bad about it, too.” he groaned in frustration, mad at himself for being such a jerk.

“i wanna make it up to him, but i just don’t know how.” finn muttered, staring up at their bedroom’s ceiling. y/n fiddled with their oversized t-shirt before their eyes lingered on a specific costume that was hung on their closet door; their gaga costume. y/n smirked, “i have an idea.” they slyly turned towards their best friend who raised his head up with a questionable look on his face.

with that, they spent the entire night fashioning up a theatricality costume for the boy as a way to show his support for kurt and that he was different from the other guys on the football team who would judge and scrutinise everything the glee club did.

the next day, since it was the end of the week, everyone had decided to go to school in their costumes. y/n didn’t mind but it was a bit uncomfortable to get to and from class in white latex tights.

“woah! guys, why are you all in your theatricality costumes?” mr. schue asked as he walked into the choir room, “it’s the end of the week. we were kind of hoping to learn what the lesson of the assignment was.” artie told him, “well, um, you guys have had some great numbers this week but i’m not sure that i know either.” he confessed and the rest of the club chuckled with him before a voice spoke up.

“i do.” tina walked into the room in her usual goth attire, “goth tina! you’re back!” y/n exclaimed, beaming at her. the girl smiled at their enthusiasm, “i refuse to dress like somebody i’m not to be somebody i’m not, and i learned it’s good to be a little theatrical.” she said before taking a bow as everyone applauded. “there she is! she’s back!” mr. schue encouragingly announced, patting her on the back.

artie looked around amidst all the cheering, realising that two people were missing. “wait, where’s kurt? and where’s finn?” his question made everyone look around, before the revelation hit y/n. “guys, we need to go find them. now.” the entire club ventured out together through the hallways to find the two guys, which they did.

“oh my god.” “what is finn wearing?” santana stated and quinn asked, in shock. “he wanted to make up for something he did to kurt so i helped him with his gaga costume.” y/n explained, “problem was that we could only use this old shower curtain i found in my attic.” they added, snickering at the sight of their friend wearing a red, rubber-looking dress. they walked towards them as they noticed karofsky and azimio were once again bullying them. “‘cause i’m pretty sure we can take the both of you.” “yeah, but can you take all of us?” puck quipped as they backed finn up.

“okay. okay, i get it. i took biology. you know what, karofsky? we done disturbed the freak hive! the worker freaks is trying to protect the queen freak.” azimio mocked, “next time, we’ll bring some friends, too.” karofsky threatened before the two jocks walked away from the group.

rachel took off her shades, “i’m tired of everyone calling us freaks.” she complained, “well, look at us. we are freaks.” mercedes joked as everyone laughed along. finn smiled at this, “but we’re all freaks together, and we shouldn’t have to hide it.” he told them before sudden clapping attracted their attention. 

“nice job, finn. think you just figured out what the lesson was, kinda makes me wish i’d planned it.” mr. schue joked, “but mercedes is right, you do all look incredibly insane.” y/n smiled and turned to finn, high-fiving one another. “told you my plan would work.” they whispered to him as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah. you’re always right, i get it.” y/n only punched him lightly on his shoulder as they all began to walk back to the choir room.

[les-pompiers118]

Last call for sin

900 words | rated Teen | Buck angst

A 1x01 coda ficlet for @911hiatus's week one prompt, "hunger." Title from All These Things That I've Done by The Killers, which is a perfect song for pilot Buck (in my humble opinion).

He managed the drive home okay—hands tight around the steering wheel, radio on too loud to keep his thoughts at bay, but he made it. He just put his mind on autopilot and drove. But now that he’s safely on his own front porch, fiddling with the keys in his jacket pocket, Buck feels like he can’t breathe. As if there’s a snake wrapped around his ribcage, squeezing.

He inhales sharply through his nose, then exhales more slowly from his mouth, talking himself through it like he’s his own patient. In… and out. There you go. You’re okay. On the far end of the porch, someone left an empty beer can in the potted geranium that’s languishing between two folding chairs. Buck keeps his eyes fixed on it, both to ground himself while he breathes and to have something—anything—to think about besides what happened yesterday.

He almost lost everything.

In… Out… In… Out…

The front door opens, startling Buck into taking a step back.

“Hey, I thought I heard you pull in,” Kyle says through the screen door. He’s wearing flannel pajama bottoms printed with puffy, cartoon Christmas trees and no shirt. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.” Buck walks over to the geranium, plucks out the beer can, and hands it to Kyle. “You guys, uh, have someone over last night?”

“Not me. Stayed up late watching a couple movies. I don’t have to work until noon.”

Buck follows Kyle inside, careful not to let the screen door slam. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. Fucking car alarm next door again. I’m gonna let the air out of their tires next time, I swear to fucking God.”

“I did not hear you say that,” Buck grins, then gestures at Kyle’s pajamas. “Look at a calendar, dude. It’s January.”

“Yeah, so? My mom gave me these. They’re comfortable. Yo, I was about to make some eggs. You want some?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks. Not hungry yet.”

Kyle gives him a thumbs-up and returns to the kitchen, and Buck goes upstairs to his room. The house is quiet at this time of day, at least on weekdays. Weekends are a different matter. Buck usually comes home to find a few friends-of-friends still hanging around for breakfast. Buck doesn’t care, as long as the mess gets cleaned up and no one has crashed in his bed.

God, he’s so damn tired. It’s not that they had a lot of calls last night; he just couldn’t seem to get his brain to switch off. Four straight hours in his bunk without the bell going off, and he wasted them listening to Chimney snore. Buck drops his gym bag on the floor and kicks off his shoes without looking to see where they land. Clothes are peeled off, replaced with sweats. Curtains get pulled closed. Autopilot. On the way to the bed, he catches his reflection in the mirror hanging over the dresser.

And then he can’t breathe again.

This is not a family.

The next time you screw up, it’ll be your last.

You’re done, kid.

In the dim light, Buck sees all the previous versions of himself staring back at him from the mirror, all with the same birthmark and blue eyes, the same nose that’s just a little too long. Twenty-six goddamn years’ worth of them—and it seems he’s no closer to figuring out how not to screw up his own life.

“I fucked up,” Buck whispers. “I fucked up again, Maddie.”

His reflection pleads with him in the mirror, begging for sympathy, but the voice in his head is brisk, sensible. Maddie’s voice.

Okay? What are you going to do about it, Evan?

He hasn’t seen her in years. It’s painful to think of her, still patching up idiots like him in the ER and then going home to her dickhead husband. At least she has one less thing to worry about with her little brother out of her hair. Buck hopes she’s okay. Maybe even happy.

It’s hard to imagine her happy.

It’s been five years since he left Hershey, hungry for something he couldn’t even name. So hungry it hurt. But now he understands what he was seeking as he was crisscrossing the country in her old Jeep: Purpose. Something he could hold up with pride. And people who gave a shit about him. He knows this because yesterday he almost threw all those things away for a couple of meaningless fucks. Jesus.

So. What is he going to do about it? The first step is obvious. Buck sits down on the edge of his bed and begins deleting every dating app off his phone. He’s done. He has to be done.

He makes the mistake of opening the last app. Four messages. Buck scans the profile pictures, his breathing picking up. God, it was an actual nightmare of a shift. That little girl dragged out of her house, bullets—actual fucking bullets—pinging off the fire engine. In two days, Buck’s going to be right back there, facing all kinds of awful shit again, having people’s lives in his hands. And then there’ll be the consequences of his screw-up to face. Bobby’s probably gonna have him scrubbing floors for a month.

Buck lets his thumb hover unsteadily over GirlOnFire94’s picture. The name feels like fate. He clicks.

One last time. He needs this.

His hands don’t stop shaking for a long time.

[aviocs]

What would Asya, Abaddon and one character of your choice wear to Pride?

IM GLAD YOU ASKED i know it's july. but it's always time 4 pride

asya:

asya is a performer and i can see her doing some singing at a pride event! and if she's performing, she's dressing up. for the outfit itself, gotta have a few bits of the classic rainbow, but mostly she's got a lesbian flag theme going on in a coordinated outfit. spends months before the event getting the perfect pieces in the right colors. might've even gotten the bustle shorts custom made.

if she was just attending pride without getting on stage she'd probably dress more like she normally does, tie some flannel around her waist and put on some pins or other accessories.

abaddon:

thinking of her in gta au for this which implies los santos has a pride event, which i can get behind lol

abaddon's got a much more casual look! spent an afternoon finding some rainbow pieces and called it a day. for someone who primarily wears red and black it's more colorful than her usual looks and she'd enjoy that for a day. she's also someone more likely to just throw on a couple rainbows vs looking to coordinate stuff/get pins in her more specific flags (trans, nonbinary, bi, demisexual, demiromantic) because the specific labels are less important to her than the queer umbrella. doesn't need to call out everything, the rainbow works just fine.

also gave her a water bottle and backpack because gotta stay hydrated out in the summer heat, especially if this IS gta au and it takes place in the gta version of california. the backpack is for more water bottles and the wallets/phones of her friends who might be more dressed up with less pocket space so they don't ruin their aesthetic with bags. abaddon's a team player.

jt:

jt's not queer herself but she's got two dads who absoLUTELY have been taking her to pride since she was an infant. she'll go with them as she grows up, too, but always love an excuse to draw her as a kid. she didn't necessarily pick out her outfit here, dads had to coordinate for her, but they do care a lot about her having a say in this sort of thing and got each piece jt-approved. she was particularly excited about the sparkly tutu.

as a teen and adult she gets different 'i love my dads' shirts to wear every year. probably doesn't wear too many rainbows herself outside of the shirt

bonus! cian:

cian is the allocishet guy in the friend group and someone who gets mistaken for also being queer a non-zero amount. it doesn't bother him and he mostly just corrects people if it's relevant. when the Bi Wife Energy tiktok came out he got like 5+ people sending it to him, 100%, thus the shirt, also since a lot of the women he dates/gets interested in end up being bi. cian is just a good guy and a safe guy and the queers flock to him, and also they invite him to pride with them and of COURSE he'll go.

(i think his design fluctuates every time i draw him. his hair looks pretty normal, i tend to make the... spikes? rounded for him and actually remembered to do that this time. it's the goatee that moves around a bit, finally remembered this time that usually goatees come with mustaches instead of only slapping the chin bit on him)

a couple more bonuses under the cut that don't fit the art styles

actually drew this abaddon before all the others, but struggled to draw any others in the same style. i wanted this post to be a bit more unified so i redrew her once i actually started having some luck with asya's piece, but i like how this turned out so i'm posting it damn it lmao i forget her undereye circles so often though, f

this piece is five years old now oh my god. ANYWAY sergey taking val to their first pride! sergey would either wear minimal actual pride gear - some beads he got at the event and a trans wristband - with otherwise normal clothes (accounting for the heat) or some kind of meme shirt on top of that. val also has minimal pride gear here mostly because they're looking to buy more at the event. sergey checks in on them frequently throughout the even to make sure they're not overheating in that binder. he remembers how fucking hot and sweaty those things get.

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

12: Brushed and Flossed

Steve's pov

I'm leaning on the kitchen counter, watching Robin talk to Nancy. Everyone else is milling about, doing their own thing.

I hear a ruckus from the bathroom. Quietly, I walk down the hall, and can hear voices.

"YOU NEED TO CLEAN UP YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Eddie shouts.

"BEGONE THOT!" Otto replies. Damn, I didn't know she had that in her. Maybe she's just shy. I knock on the door, and it swings open.

"Eddie, you want to go formally say hi to everybody?" I ask tiredly. "I'll help her get cleaned up."

Eddie looks, reluctant, but takes off anyway. I set down the beer I was drinking, and approach Otto.

"Okay kiddo, no fighting. You got bugs on my dad's nice rug, and to avoid that, we're going to get cleaned up, okay?" I motion to the shower. "When you turn that knob, water will come out. Use the pumps over there for soap, and get all the grime out. When you're done, towel off, I'll bring you some clothes, and then I'll brush up your hair back into ponytails. Deal?"

Otto nods.

"I'm going to go get you some clean clothes, you just throw your dirty clothes into that sink."

I walk out and close the door, and hear the shower switch on. God knows if the kid can actually clean herself, judging off how filthy she was. Might as well let her try, worst case scenario Robin or Nancy could help.

"STEVE! I'M PUTTING ON THE TV!" Mike shouts.

"Yeah, yeah, do whatever," I mutter. Slowly, I trudge into my room and rifle around for suitable clothes. Eventually, I find a clean white shirt and a too small pair of flannel pants that should fit her. I hear laughter from the living room and some stupid sitcom plays.

"Ready for clothes now," the kid mumbles from the other side of the bathroom door. I slip the clothes under the door, and within a few minutes, the door creaks open again.

Otto looks like a whole new person from the one she was 10 minutes ago. Her hair, once a muddy brown mess, is now a pale shade of brown. Her face, formerly covered in dirt, is now clean and pale, but with some small scratches showing. I look into the empty shower, and see a thin layer of crust and bugs plastered to the bottom. A still live centipede crawls down the drain. Of course.

"Alright now, sit down on the counter and I'll brush your hair and bandage you up," I explain, pointing to the sink. Otto scrambles up, and perches on it. I grab my brush and detangler, and get to work.

Otto's pov

"Ohhhh Harringtonnn!" Eddie calls, walking down the hall. "I think it's my turn to clean up!"

Steve walks out of bathroom, and I follows.

"Look at you!" Eddie ruffles my hair. I smiles, my pointy teeth (that have also been freshly "flossed" and "brushed" even though brushing is for hair) that Eddie calls "fangs" sticking out.

"I'm all clean now, Eddie!" I explains, showing him the ponytails Steve gave me.

"Now it's Eds turn to use the shower!" Eddie grin, flicking a specks of dirt at Steve.

"Be warned, there's-" Steve start.

"WHY ARE THERE SO MANY BUGS IN HERE?" Eddie screeches.

"Steve, can I-" I starts.

"Not now kiddo," Steve starters. "I'm too tired to deal with all this."

[adrian-the-lonely-writer]

Transitions

A fluffy 'Dean WinchesterXTrans!Male' Reader one-shot where you had come out to Dean, and Dean decided he's going to do everything he can to support you.

“So,” Dean began. His heart was pounding. He rather be facing any number of ghosts and ghouls to avoid fucking this part up. Hell, he’d even take a few demons over this. Anything over these tense emotional moments. Still, he was glued to the bed, hand holding yours. He loved you. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of helping you.

“Y-yeah?” You stumbled over your words. You had no idea how your boyfriend was going to handle the news. Tears were threatening to fall over your cheeks as you kept your eyes glued to the floor.

Dean swallowed. Dammit, his brother mentioned something like this in the past. Why couldn’t he remember now? “Well in that case, I suppose we better get you some comfier clothes. C’mon.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. Looking up, you saw that same smile dance across his lips, the same smile you fell in love with. “Wouldn’t want my boyfriend to be uncomfortable.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped into his arms, relief and love washing over you. Dean just chuckled, quietly as he shifted to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you against him. “Thanks Dean…Thank you so much.”

“Of course. You have a different name you like to be called now?”

“Y/N now- I uh, kinda picked it out when I realized I just-”

“Y/N is perfect babe.” His lips left a light little peck at your nose. “C’mon. Sammy’s with Bobby looking for another job, let’s take the day to get you feeling as good as possible, hm? I just had that great poker payout-”

“I thought that was for silver bullets-”

“Pshh. I can win another game or too.” Dean went to smile, but it quickly drooped into a frown. “Your clothes...do they make you feel-” He tried to find the right word.

“Dysphoric? Well I mean a bit. I didn’t exactly have time to choose great clothes when I ran off with you Dean.” Before you could even finish your sentence, Dean was digging through his duffle.

“I was going to drop them off somewhere, they feel a little small.” Dean grinned, poking his head back up. In his hands were an AC/DC shirt and an old pair of jeans. He even pulled out his spare hunting boots. “Might not be the most practical all the time, but we’ll get you some stuff today.”

You tried not to cry once again.

Few minutes later, you found yourself wrapped up in your boyfriend's clothes, in the passenger seat of the car. AC/DC rang out through the speakers. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You...really don’t mind Dean?”

“Mind? Why the hell would I mind?”

“Well you were into me as a-”

“I am into you, period.” Dean smiled a little. “Masculine, feminine, It makes no difference to me. You are still you. So, clothes we’re doing. Not half assed Walmart clothes either, we’re gonna get you some good hunting gear.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Masculine fake IDs from now on, easy enough. Anything else you need?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure...I kinda like what Sam does with his hair so I don’t think I’ll cut it off yet. It isn’t as long as his at the moment anyway.” You giggled at the scrunch in Dean’s nose at the mention of his brother.

“Cute guy with a ponytail never hurts either. Ah. Here’s the shop.”

“Dean this is a mall-”

“Yeah, sporting goods, including guns, bullets, as well as various clothing stores to get you what you need. Plus crowds to blend into. Malls are great Y/N.” He turned into the parking lot, picking a spot somewhere in the middle. “Plus, the impala doesn’t stick out too much here.”

Dean slipped out of his side, opening the door for you before you were even unbuckled. His calloused hand still felt tender as it grasped yours tightly, pulling you towards the store.

Your boyfriend was right after all. The crowds were seamless and the selection would be much greater.

“I’m thinking, we hit the sporting goods store, get some food and supplies. Take our time with it. Then just meet up with Sam and Bobby for the job, sound good Y/N?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.” Your smile was glued to your face as you leaned against his arm walking into the shop Dean had picked. “Is this where you got all your flannels and things?”

“Most of em, yeah. Why? You like that one?” He winked as he saw your cheeks turn a little pink. Sure, you loved the flannel. It made you feel more you, it also smelled like the man you loved more than anything.

“Well it’s nice and warm and-” You tripped over your words again. “Just really nice hunting clothes ya know? Like durable enough you have some protection, it’s also warm enough for nights but I can always open it ya know.”

“Great. So a couple flannels. Some jeans that won’t trip you up. Shirts.” Dean guided you to the clothing area of the store, whipping out his cellphone.

“Dean? Something the matter?” He doesn’t often look at his screen with that much concentration.

“Nope. I was just looking at a size chart.” He matched his screen to a couple of the tags. “These your colors?” He held out some forest green flannel and a black shirt.

“To start with, yeah! Although lighter colors are still nice. I don’t want anything thinking I’m your little brother if I match your style.”

“My style is functional and timeless. Plus, if I had a nickel for everyone who thought Sam and I should-” He scowled as you laughed. You couldn’t help but pick up those books when you saw them. Plus, as prank wars broke out it definitely gave you an upper hand.

“Alright, I concede your style is wonderful Dean.”

“Damn right it is.” He smiled a little. “But I get it, c’mon. Let’s walk around and see what catches your eye.”

The two of you scoured the store from top to bottom. Dean’s arms quickly became laden with fabric as you both approached the fitting rooms.

“Find everything you need sir, and-?” The guy in charge of the rooms spoke.

“Sir.” You introjected. Your heart rate spiked a little. Dean’s hand rested on your shoulder as he nodded to the cashier, as if confirming what you said.

“Of course, right this way. Here is your room, sir.” Without batting an eye the cashier escorted you back to try on your new wardrobe.

“Give 'em hell babe!” Dean called after you, taking his seat. He fiddled with his phone. Sam had finally convinced him to upgrade, and this one had a camera on it.

Quickly, pulse racing, you put on the first outfit of clothes, and slipped outside to model for Dean. Your nerves subsided when met with that goofy grin of his, and you couldn’t help but match it.

“You look amazing.”

“I feel amazing.”

“Wanna try more?” Dean snapped a photo. “That’s gonna be my new cell wallpaper.” You stuck your tongue out to him, a look he cheekily returned.

You went through this a few more times. Different mixed and matched outfits and hunting gear. Dean flirting with you every time you slipped into his sight. Soon you had a week's worth of clothes, with some extras to wear during a wash. Eventually you made it towards the food court, carrying the bags. You both went immediately to the burger stand and sat down.

“Fucck~” Dean’s eyes were closed in bliss. “I forgot how amazing these burgers were.”

“God we ate at gas stations so much I had forgotten food could be juicy.” You were devouring your burger as ravenous as Dean was. Oblivious to the look he was giving you.

Dean just smiled, chewing as he looked at you. It had only been a few months since you were traveling with him. Demon blooded kid like Sammy, you wanted to be able to help. Truthfully you were thankful they accepted.

Dean sometimes kicks himself at night for almost saying no. He had fallen for you, hard, the first time you rode in the back of the car. The way your eyes lit up as his own music started to play. The way you got along with Sam. He had fallen hard. You were perfect in his eyes now as you were then.

“Dean?...” Your voice was quiet, head against the window. After eating Dean had loaded you and your new things into the impala before starting to make your guy’s way to Bobby's place.

The excitement of the day had driven your eyelids to a close by this point. The soft rumblings of the engine were lulling you to sleep. Dean’s hand found yours once more, with a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah babe?”

“I love you Dean…”

“I love you too Y/N.” His words were the last things you heard before finally succumbing to sleep.

Dean drove on, hand never leaving yours. He had found the best boyfriend in the world, and he intended to keep things that way.

[darthslaydr]

Teach me how to love you

Summary- Dean is possessive and jealous. A guy's hands-on y'n makes him lose his mind. He gets physical but doesn't know how to show his affection, he asks her to teach him how to love her.

Pairing- Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters- Dean, Sam, Y'N, Iris

Word count- 1.7k

Warning- SMUT, possessive, jealous, physical, low-key toxic Dean, training.

Suggestions are open loves!

MASTERLIST

The Winchester ritual consists of going to the bar to wash off any sorrow, it was almost like therapy. The bar was almost jammed pack, you always had a good time because you practically grew up in bars. You always wore the same jeans and flannel going to the hunts, but it is always so hot in the bars, everyone’s bodies just sticking together, it was really hard to be wearing something like jeans, so you always carried shorts and wore a tank top underneath the flannel.

Y/N’s POV

I was riding the backseat of the Impala, truth was I am bullied by the boys, so they do not let me ride shotgun. Sam was passed out in the front and Dean had his eyes on the road. We all stayed in silence till Dean played “Cherry Pie”. That damn song always did something to me. Gave me every inch of confidence and god complex

“ We are almost there,” Dean said, looking at you in the rearview mirror.

I just nodded and looked away. I could still feel his eyes on me. I slowly started unbuttoning my flannel, that damn song. I took of the flannel, showing my tank top, which had Harley Davidson on it. I started unbuttoning my pants and my eyes met Dean’s in the rearview mirror. He shied away and moved his eyes on the road. I changed into short shorts and during the whole changing process his eyes kept flickering off and on from me.

We entered in front of the pub. I knew I was good-looking, I shut down every insecurity, I hate being vulnerable. We walked into the club, Sam went to look for a table and Dean and I went to the bar, finally. You ordered the same as Dean, strong drinks as always. Dean went to some chick, as always, and this time Sam also got one, finally. I was left alone at the bar and a certain handsome guy seated himself beside me. He had ocean blue eyes and the sweetest way of talk. God, he is handsome. I started feeling incredibly hot when his hands touched my thigh, slowly caressing it. That moment was interrupted by Sam.

“Hey, Y/N, sorry for disturbing you but Iris and I are going back to the motel, and we are taking the car. If you want to come now, then you can but the motel is like 10 mins away from here.” He had a girl in his arm and he was visibly drunk. I chuckled and told him I can walk. He smiled and walked away.

The handsome sitting in front of you, Dave, had his hand fixed on the upper part of my thigh.

“Maybe we can get out of here too?” He whispered in my ear

I looked around to find Dean, he was too drunk to walk alone. I could not leave him.

“How about we take this behind the Pub?” I asked

Of course, he said yes.

I chugged the sixth drink and was pretty drunk. He grabbed my hand and helped me stand. He then put his hand on my lower back and soon grabbed my ass. I looked behind and saw Dean looking at me while a girl kissed his neck. I mouthed that I will be back and he did nothing. I ignored it and walked out with Dave, he pushed me against the wall and started kissing my neck, grabbed my hand above my head and started unzipped my shorts. People were still going in and out of the bar, and publically having sex was not exactly my cup of tea.

“No not yet,” I said

He just nodded and continued kissing. It soon just became a hot makeout sesh. With different turns, I was pinned against the wall and then he was. While hovering over him, a strong pair of arms pulled me back and held me against someone’s chest.

“Beat it.” A low growl said behind me

I turned around to find a similar face, Dean. He was pissed and I could smell the alcohol on him. Dave did not even ask twice and just ran away. I pushed Dean off and started walking away from him towards the motel.

“Y/N wait,” Dean said while running behind me.

“I am too drunk for this hold on.” He said behind me.

“Dean, I know you are. That is why” I took in a deep breath. “We will talk tomorrow.”

The walk back was quiet and I could feel he was sorry. We soon reached the motel and we could hear Sam in the room.

“You can wait in my room,” I asked Dean, but he started walking away before I could say anything else.

“I am just going to go to the convenient store, it is 2 mins away.” He said and moved away.

I went into my room and changed my clothes and made coffee, two cups of coffee because Dean did not know that the convenience store was closed. I knew he would be back.

I hear a faint knock on the door. I looked through the peephole and it was as expected, Dean.

As soon as I opened the door, he kissed me. It was wanting, passionate and almost like the world was coming to an end. He pushed me against the door and shut the door with the help of my body. He closed to my neck and I didn’t impose. He raised me and my legs crossed across his waist, he tore my tank top in half and started making his way down to my breasts, my hands getting tangled in his hair. I removed the shreds of the clothes hanging from my shoulders. He carried me and laid me on my bed. He took off his shirt and I removed my shorts. He got ahold of my panty and removed it in a second and tied my hands to the bed rest with my panty and he worked on removing my bra. He moved down tracing every inch of my body till he reached my thighs and started teasing all the sweet spots. His hands soon dug into my thigh and his mouth was exactly where it needed to be. I screamed out loud, he feels so different, feels so pure. God. My back ached and my arms screamed to be let free and roamed freely in his hair. He soon came in front of my face and without any indication, he put himself, the full length, in me. He grabbed my throat and I begged for him even more. He came next to my ear and said, “You are mine, and you better say it.” Those words could not be comprehended, but with every thrust, I got closer and with the last thrust remaining for me to come, he pulled away and looked at me, “You better say it.”

As he said it his hickey’s from that night glaring through. I raised my head up as far as I could and whispered, “ You say it first.” In that second he thrust so far deep, that I saw stars. I came, he came and maybe that was us agreeing to each other? He moved out of me and wore his pants and started moving out of the room.

“Hey, untie me,” I screamed at him.

He moved back towards me and said that “this is what you get for asking me to say that”, and kissed my forehead. Dick.

Thank god I am a hunter, I will not only be able to get my hands untied and kill that Winchester. I wore a shirt and a different pair of panties and fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later realizing the training I have with the elder Winchester. Well, that will be interesting.

------

“Good morning, Samuel.”

He kissed my head and said, “That is not my name.”

I entered the room and I met the handsome figure of Dean, my mind went into the last night sex and got butterflies instantly.

“I have some things to do, and by some things I mean a meet Iris on a date,” Sam said

This piqued the interest in the room.

“Don’t say anything.” He continued.

“You are working out with Dean alone.” Sam looked at me and said.

My heart sank and the butterflies doubled. This will be an interesting day.

------

We entered the barren land a little behind the motel. We didn’t say anything, we just started working with knife control. This was our daily routine. Dean was quieter than usual, his eyes were hungrier than ever. I take out my knife and charged at him, he grabbed my hand and flipped me around, showing the knife into my neck. While his other hand twisted mine behind my back.

“Dean you are hurting me.” I managed to choke up.

He threw the knife away but didn’t lose the grip on my wrists, I was on my tippy toes to almost meet his height. His hand grabbing my wrist near my throat loosened up and got ahold of my throat. He pushed my head back and met his eyes to mine. He got his lips close to my lips to mine and whispered, “tell me you are mine.” I was filled with anger and managed to push him away.

“What do you want Dean?” I moved towards him

“Huh? What do you want?” I continued as I pushed him away, with every word I said.

“ You try to make me call you mine, but you flirt and fuck every girl. Have you seen me do that? I have pined for you, liked you and you gave me nothing. You are always so jealous and possessive. I am tired, Dean.”

“I don’t know how to love. I never did.” He said

He cupped my face and looked me into my eyes, “teach me how to love you.” He said as he said softly.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,772 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, coerced marriage, gore, violence, sexuality, typical TWD stuff (recommended NC17+) A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N moves forward with a plan to get both herself and Daryl out of The Sanctuary and away from Negan.

Your name: submit What is this?

You lay awake the next night, tucked into the bed beneath the cool sheets. Negan was spending the night with Tanya. All you could think about was Daryl. When it was late enough that you knew the guards would be back loafing in the guard room, you threw the covers off and bent down beside the mattress, grabbing the bag you had hid underneath the bed and pulling it out.

You went to the door of your room and opened it, checking in both directions down the hall. It was blessedly empty. You wandered around the corner, glancing at the familiar sliver of light under Dwight’s door. You slipped past it on your tip toes and rushed to Daryl’s cell.

You withdrew the ring of keys and quickly fitted the right one into the lock. Daryl was wide awake this time, waiting. You were the only thing he had been thinking about for the last 24 hours and he found that it made sitting in the dark both more and less bearable. The realization that you were in that place, with Negan, sent fear and rage through him like he’d never experienced. And the idea that Negan could do with you whatever he wanted made him see red. Every second he was wondering if his hands were on you, if his lips were… But the fact that you were close, that there was even the slightest possibility that he would get to see you that day, touch you no matter how briefly, hear your voice… it sustained him.

The door of the cell opened and you slipped inside, following the same routine you had the night before. You laid the towel down at the bottom of the door and pulled out the small lantern, clicking it on. You set it on the ground between you and Daryl. His heart skipped a beat as you gave him the best smile you could muster. “I told you I’d be back,” you whispered.

“I believed ya,” he said. This time he was the one who sat up on his knees and grabbed you hastily into a hug, throwing his arms around you. His touch was desperate, needy, and you melted beneath it.

You wrapped your arms around him in return and sank into him, leaning against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and breathing.

Daryl suddenly snapped back into reality and felt that wave of humiliation again as he remembered how filthy he was. He pulled back from you abruptly and you gave him a questioning look as he sat down again, his back against the wall. “Are ya—are ya alright?” he asked.

“I should be asking you that,” you replied.

He shook his head. “M’fine. But you—” His deep voice was heavy with gravel as he spoke. “You’re in with the wolves in a completely different way than I am.”

You didn’t say anything and just held out the canteen and some bread with meat and cheese you had swiped from the kitchen.

“Thanks,” he said, nodding as he grabbed it from you, quickly devouring it.

You were much quieter, more reserved than you were the night before and Daryl immediately noticed.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked you, concern clouding his face.

“Nothing,” you said. “It’s just—I wanted to warn you. You may hear a bit of a commotion in a bit, after I leave. It’s nothing to worry about.”

His brow furrowed more deeply and his blue eyes narrowed, peering at you intensely through the strands of his hair hanging around his face. “Y/N… what are you doin’?”

“I told you. I’m getting you out of here.” You sighed and glanced at your bag. “This is just Part 2. I’m not busting you out tonight. But we’re getting closer. And don’t worry. They’ll never know it was me.”

He stared at you, chewing his bottom lip as he always did when he was worrying or deep in thought, the canteen clutched tightly in his hand. “What are you doin’?”

“Can’t get out of here on foot. It’s not fast enough. Once they realize you’re gone, Negan will send out everything they have. Gonna need a vehicle. They store all the keys for the motorcycles and trucks on the first floor, but there’s a patrol through there frequently at night… unless they’re distracted.”

“You’re gonna somehow distract them and steal a key to a vehicle,” he said.

“Yep. Not just a vehicle. Your bike. We’re getting it back.”

Daryl licked his bottom lip nervously. “How are ya gonna do it?”

You gave him a look. “Uhh… blow a steam pipe on the first floor…”

“How the hell—” he stopped himself, remembering your speedy assembly of those nail bombs in the hospital, which felt like a lifetime ago. “Ya build a bomb? Ain’t they gonna know it was deliberate?”

You shook your head. “No. It’s a tiny charge, just very strategically placed. But it will make a noise, and steam is going to be pouring out into the room. It should be long enough to distract them so I can get into the room and get the spare key.”

Daryl just stared at you. You could see his mind spinning, but he didn’t say anything.

“It’s gonna work. Just—if you hear a commotion, don’t worry. There’s supposed to be one.” You grabbed the plastic the food had been wrapped in and gave him an apologetic look. “I have to go. If I’m doing this tonight, it needs to be now,” you said. “I wish—I wish I could stay with you longer. I hate leaving you in here…” He handed you the canteen back and nodded.

“S’alright. Just be careful.”

“I will.” You studied him for a moment and then threw your arms around him again in one last hug. You squeezed your eyes shut as you held him tight. “I’ll try to come tomorrow night.”

He shook his head. “Nah. You’re risking too much. Ya should just be worryin’ ‘bout yourself.”

You met his eyes and sighed. “No. I’m only worried about you. I’ll be just fine.” You slipped from him, leaving an empty feeling in between his lungs. You grabbed the lantern and clicked it off, followed by shoving it and the towel in your bag. Slipping out and locking the door behind you, you snuck around the floor and the small charge you had built from its hiding place in a janitorial closet down the hall. You crept down the stairs and through the halls until you were outside the guard room. There was a rowdy game of poker going on inside.

Everything worked flawlessly. You placed the bomb and raced around the corner to wait for the commotion to begin. The uproar was so loud it even drew guards from the floor above, but you were safely stowed out of sight. As soon as the ruckus was reaching a crescendo, you slipped into the room where the keys were stored and quickly found the spare key for Daryl’s bike. You grabbed it off the nail and shoved it in your pocket, heading up the stairs around the back way. You were crossing in front of Dwight’s room again, almost back to your own, when he stepped into the hall. You froze.

“Hey,” he said, shutting his door softly behind him. “What the hell is going on down there?” he asked you.

You shrugged. “I think I heard someone say one of the steam valves broke,” you explained.

He nodded. “Oh. Huh… Well, this building isn’t exactly brand new,” he said. “Can’t sleep again?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Seems to be a habit.” He paused a bit awkwardly. “Hey, do you, uhh, have a smoke?” he asked you.

You shook your head. “No. I don’t smoke.”

“Ahh, right,” he nodded. “Ya know, Sherry used to get on me about it but now she smokes, too,” he said, leaning back against the wall. You nodded.

“I remember.” You watched his face turn sad and had a sudden realization that even though you did want to beat the shit out of him for what he was doing to Daryl, for having no backbone and becoming one of them, he’d had a pretty fucked up run himself… “She talks about you still,” you said softly. His eyes shot up to meet yours. “Sherry. She talks about you.”

“Huh,” he nodded slowly, staring back down at his boots. “Well, that’s over,” he said. “I’m sure Negan is taking real good care of her. And you too.”

You felt like a knife had just been twisted into your chest. You nodded. “Yeah. Night.” You left him behind and rushed back to your room, leaning heavily against the door behind you after you shut and locked it.

You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath for a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were sitting in your room reading, not absorbing a word of it, when there was a knock on the door the next day. Your heart startled at the thought that you had been discovered and it was essentially the Grim Reaper calling, but you quickly dismissed it. You’d been careful. No one knew. You went to the door and pulled it open to see Negan standing there with a charming smile on his face.

“Y/N,” he said, looking you up and down. You were wearing jeans and a tank top with a loose flannel button-up over it. He let out a low whistle. “Hot damn. You look good in anything. I’m tempted to just have my way with you right now,” he said.

You glanced away from him briefly, licking your lips, before meeting his eyes again, raising your eyebrows. “What do you want?” you asked, purposely giving him a sassy response.

He chuckled again and straightened up from where he was leaning on the doorframe. “And that’s why I like you. You have the guts to try and put me in my place.”

You crossed your arms, surveying him, your heart pounding. “Sometimes you need it.”

He leaned in close to you his eyes flitting down to your lips and back up to your eyes repeatedly. “Sometimes so do you.” There was a deep, almost animalistic growl in his voice. He bit his bottom lip after a moment and broke into a smile again. “God, if only you were on board with my process. You’d probably be the best damn soldier I had. And then you’d come home and slip into a dress and turn every head in the damn room. Beautiful and badass, a rare combination.”

“You know I don’t approve of what you do out there,” you said, unable to prevent the cold edge in your voice.

“I know. That’s why I said if. It’s a damn shame. Anyway, why don’t you throw on something and come join us in the lounge? I put in a special order with the kitchen.”

“Alright. I’ll be there soon,” you said.

He gave you another smile and turned to leave. You did your make up and grabbed a short, form-fitting dress out of the closet, pulling on some heels, and left your room behind, feeling like a parading piece of meat as you walked through the halls. You had a suspicion that you wouldn’t be able to slip away to Daryl later and it left you feeling vaguely lightheaded and sick…

You arrived in the lounge where the other wives were milling about, chatting, all drinking cocktails. As soon as you came in, Negan grinned at you from his place in a cushy chair and he tilted his head at you, beckoning you over. “Come and sit down right here,” he said, patting his knee.

Your stomach twisted, but you obeyed, crossing the space to him and sitting down sideways across his lap. He pulled you against him and you draped an arm around his shoulders.

“My special request,” he said, dipping a strawberry from a nearby tray into a bowl of chocolate fondue and taking a huge bite, closing his eyes as he savored it and tilted his head back. “Mmm. Goddamn. Holy shit, is that good! This is the life, isn’t it?” he asked, catching your eyes.

You managed to give him a small smile and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You forced yourself to kiss him back and pressed a hand to the stubble along his jaw. You could taste the chocolate on his lips and tongue and felt a wave of revulsion.

He pulled back and gave you a satisfied and fiery look. “You are making it up to me, aren’t you?” he asked in an undertone.

Just then, movement in the hall caught his attention.

“Dwight!” Negan yelled. It was Dwight going past the doorway, pushing Daryl ahead of him. They stopped and backed up, Dwight forcing Daryl just over the threshold.

Negan tilted his head. “Bring Daryl over here. I want to talk to him.”

Dwight pushed Daryl hard in the back until he walked over and stood in front of you and Negan. You were very consciously controlling your breathing and stared down at the carpet, but you could feel Daryl’s eyes on you before he too looked down at the ground, unwilling to take in the scene before him with you cozied up on Negan’s lap. His blood was boiling and he was starting to feel out of control.

“Hot enough out there for you, Daryl?” Daryl was red-faced, dripping with sweat, and there was walker blood splattered on his clothes. “Rhetorical question because you look like shit,” Negan said laughing. He cleared his throat and smoothed a hand up and down your bare leg.

“You see this, Daryl?” Negan asked, gesturing around the room. “All of this? You could be a part of this. I’m sitting here with a beautiful woman on my lap, eating chocolate covered strawberries.” Negan quipped. He glanced at the bowl of chocolate beside him and dipped his index finger into it, biting his own lip as he raised it to yours, watching your expression with relish. You felt a hard pit form in between your lungs, like indigestion. My God, how could you do this in front of Daryl? But you had no choice. You met Negan’s eyes for a brief moment before glancing back at his waiting finger and parting your lips. Negan slowly inserted it into your mouth and you closed your lips around it, pressing your tongue gently to it, tasting the dark chocolate. He pulled it back out excruciatingly slowly, the smile on his face growing all the while and you felt his growing erection below you, too. He laughed with satisfaction and you felt it deep in his chest as you licked your lips and averted your eyes away again.

Daryl saw every moment of it. He was shaking with rage and disgust and horror…

“Did you see that shit?” Negan continued. “And later, I’m going to take this beautiful woman upstairs and fuck her brains out,” Negan said, looking back at Daryl, clearly pleased with himself. You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. You’d never felt so horrified, humiliated in your life. Negan didn’t seem to notice. “Now, I’m not saying if you start to play nicely that you’ll live as good as me, because—well, no one lives as well as me. But you’ll get a little slice of it.” Negan ran his fingers up and down your bare thigh absently as he talked. “So, I want to remind you of your three choices here. You can die and decorate my fence, you can live in that hole for the rest of your life, or you can join up, be a man like Dwight here, and get a little slice of paradise for yourself.”

You ventured a glance at Daryl and his blue eyes were narrowed in hatred as he stared at Negan. The muscle in his jaw was flexing as he ground his teeth together and you thought you could see him shaking slightly. Negan laughed. “Are you trying to stare me into submission, Daryl? Because that shit don’t work on me. Think about what I said. We’ll talk about it soon.” Negan straightened up a little in his chair, adjusting you on his lap and turned his attention back to you. He leaned into you and pressed his face into the crook of your neck and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, breathing you in, the scent of your hair and your skin, letting out a satisfied smile and trailing his hand up your thigh. “Dwight, take Daryl back to his little hidey-hole. I have some other matters to attend to.” Negan pressed his lips hungrily to your neck and you had no choice but to shut your eyes and receive it, knowing Daryl was watching the whole thing.

You couldn’t get away that night. Negan was asleep beside you in bed as you again laid awake, staring at the ceiling. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. You felt like you were carving off a piece of yourself each day and giving it away. You slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door and clicking on the light. You pulled on a t-shirt and some shorts and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers found a bruise on your neck, left purposefully by Negan’s lips. He liked marking you. It was ownership. It wasn’t tender or loving or reciprocal. He might as well brand you with the iron.

That night, Daryl seethed in the darkness in his cell. After what he’d been forced to see, he didn’t expect you to show up and you didn’t. All he wanted was to stop thinking about you on Negan’s lap, you taking his finger into your mouth, Negan’s hand trailing up your bare thigh, Negan’s lips on your neck, Negan taking you back to your room and—but he couldn’t think of anything else.

Daryl’s breathing was coming hard and fast and he finally let out a growl and punched his fist into the wall repeatedly before breaking down, letting out an agonized cry, cradling his now bleeding knuckles. He hated this. He hated that you were there because of him. The guilt was threatening to crush him. It wasn’t worth what you had to do to get him out. It wasn’t…

Sometime the next afternoon, Daryl heard a soft noise beside him and felt the floor blindly. His hand pressed down on what he knew was a slice of bread. He held it in his hands for a moment, feeling his stomach rumble. The bodily hunger was replaced with a deeper one, to get you out and make sure you were safe. To make sure Negan never touched you again. But how helpless he was… locked up like an animal in a cage, while you submitted to what you had to in order to rescue him. He felt useless. He felt like a burden. You’d be better off if you’d never met him. Then you wouldn’t be here. He rubbed his fingers over the swelling on his hand from punching the wall the night before and heaved a sigh. He gratefully ate the bread and went back to strenuous waiting, doing everything he could to keep his mind blank.

That night, you again laid awake in bed. You wanted to see Daryl. You wanted to give him more water, more food… make sure he was still in one piece, but you weren’t sure if you could face him after what had happened with Negan the day before. You were overwhelmed with shame and revulsion and just the thought of it flushed your face and turned your stomach. But Daryl’s well-being was more important to you than allowing yourself to avoid facing the ugliness, so in the early hours of the morning you slipped out of bed and grabbed your bag, making your way silently to Daryl’s cell.

He heard the key slowly insert into the lock and turn and he breathed in a hurried breath, straightening up. The door opened just enough for him to see you silhouetted in the dim light. You stepped inside and shut the door.

When the lantern clicked on, your eyes were downcast and he noticed you were taking deep, slow, measured breaths. You wouldn’t look at him.

He studied your expression, his eyebrows furrowing over his narrowed eyes. “Y/N,” he rasped. He saw you gulp but you still didn’t look at him. “Hey. Look at me,” he said.

Your face contorted slightly as you fought emotion, but you eventually raised your eyes to his and Daryl saw that they were glistening more than they should have been for the dim light. Far from what you expected, you saw no contempt, no disgust on Daryl’s face. You should have known better. All you saw was anger and concern and worry. “Ya ain’t gotta do this,” he said softly. “Not this.” You watched his eyes find the bruise on your neck left by Negan’s lips and you reflexively covered it with your hand. A flash of anger exploded in Daryl’s eyes for a moment and he let out an exhale that was mostly a growl, clenching his teeth. You stared back down at the floor of the cell, half wishing you could melt into it and disappear. Daryl gulped at the tightness in his throat and felt his stomach twist.

“I do have to. It’s almost done,” you said in a harsh whisper. You pulled out the food and water you had brought for him and he accepted it but he didn’t start eating. You could feel his eyes on your face still.

“Hey,” he whispered again, sounding a bit hoarse. “Y/N. C’mon, look at me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling tears pouring down your cheeks. You covered your face with your hands and shook your head. Your shoulders heaved with shuddering breaths.

Daryl got up from where he was seated in the corner and moved over to you. “C’mere,” he said softly. You felt his arms around you, pulling you to him. “S’alright.” You were stiff at first but soon collapsed against his chest, your fingers clinging to him almost desperately. Daryl gently smoothed your hair. He rested his chin on the top of your head and held you tighter, his heart aching and fury burning in his stomach. “Ya ain’t gotta do this anymore,” he said. “Just get out.”

That snapped you out of it and you pulled back from him so you could look up into his face. You wiped the tears from your cheeks, shoving your shame in a box you could open later. Daryl’s hands stayed steadily around you. “No,” you said quickly. “I knew what I signed up for when I came back. And I wish—I wish you hadn’t seen any of that yesterday.” You straightened up and took a steadying breath. “But you’re getting out. Tomorrow,” you said softly, again meeting his eyes.

“Ya mean we are,” Daryl said.

You gulped again and averted your eyes away from the intensity of his gaze, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip.

“Y/N. Ya mean we are,” he repeated vehemently.

You shook your head. “Just you.”

“Like hell!” he growled.

“Daryl, if I stay in, I can help Alexandria and everyone from in here. I can—I can get information. I can sabotage whatever they—”

He shook his head firmly. “Nah. Nah. Fuck that. No. Ya ain’t stayin’.”

“Daryl—”

“No!” he exclaimed as loudly as he dared.

“Just listen—” you pleaded.

“No, ya listen to me!” he rasped. “If ya ain’t comin’ with me, then I ain’t leavin’. And that’s that. I won’t leave this goddamn cell. I’m not leavin’ ya in here with them, with him! I ain’t. So, you can forget about it. I’m not leavin’ ya behind. So, either adjust your plan, or we both stay in.”

You stared at him and from the look in his eyes and the way his jaw was set, his chin stubbornly inclined, it was apparent that there would be no changing his mind. There were flames in his eyes, like a wildfire. You nodded almost imperceptibly. “Alright. Okay.”

He nodded and grabbed the canteen and food you had brought him. As he raised the water to his lips you saw that his knuckles were swollen and bloody with dark bruises across them. “Your hand,” you murmured, reaching out and taking it in yours, inspecting it carefully, your fingers light on his skin.

“S’nothin’,” Daryl said, shrugging. Your touch raised goosebumps on his skin.

“What happened?” you asked him, again finding his blue eyes.

He just shook his head and didn’t say anything more. His eyes moved back to your hand on his and they caught on the silver wedding band Negan had slipped onto your finger. You suddenly realized what he was looking at and you withdrew your hands from his and ripped it off your finger, shoving it into your bag.

Daryl watched the turmoil on your face for a moment before he spoke. “What’s the plan?” he asked, taking a bite of the apple you had brought.

Your mouth dropped open and you thought for a moment. “I’ve got the keys to get you out of here and get us out of the building. And I got the key to your bike. Negan will be gone tomorrow with a lot of his best soldiers. I heard them talking today—they’re going for a pick up at Alexandria.” You sighed. “We sneak out through the south side, where they keep the bikes and trucks. I can walk around freely and make sure the coast is clear before I come and get you. We get on the bike and we go.”

“Go where? We can’t go back to Alexandria obviously.”

You nodded. “Hilltop. I’ll bring some clothes for you to change into when I can before we leave. We gotta get you out of that awful sweatshirt,” you said gently.

Daryl considered you for a long moment, his blue eyes drinking in your face. He nodded. “It’s simple. S’good. It’ll work.” He paused again. “What about weapons?” he asked.

You shook your head and he read worry on your face. “That’s the one thing I haven’t been able to solve. I don’t know where they keep them and I don’t have access to anything. I could maybe slip away with a knife from the kitchen but—”

“Nah. It’s fine. We’ll figure it out,” Daryl said. He nodded again. “We’re gettin’ out,” he said. “Both of us.” You thought you saw his bottom lip quivering.

You nodded back at him. “Yeah. We are.”

His face contorted a little as he bit back emotion, his head slumping forward and his broad shoulders rounding. Your hands flew to his shoulders, and you brushed his hair aside gently. He gripped onto your wrist tightly. You moved closer to him, your heart breaking. You pressed a kiss to his forehead as his eyes were downcast but they snapped up to yours in surprise again at the tenderness you were showing him, despite where you were and what you were being subjected to. Your face broke into a teary smile and he was amazed at it. Everything you had been through… and you’d thrown yourself into it again, for him, risking everything. You were sitting in this shithole with him, smiling at him. He couldn’t make goddamn sense of any of it.

“We’re getting out,” you whispered.

Daryl nodded and straightened up. “We are.”

It was safe to say that even after you left, locking Daryl back into his cell for what you hoped was the last time, neither of you slept at all that night.

[forever-rogue]

Hot Chocolate Kisses

A/N: It’s nothing much, but it is something so tender and soft. I love Frankie and fluff! Why not have both? Tis a little thank/happy holiday gift from me to you. Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pregnant reader, references to sex, sweet sweet fluff!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Good morning," the sound of his soft voice accompanied by the feel of his arms around your midsection was enough to make your heart flutter. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his head there and humming in content, "how are you, honey bee?"

"Good morning, mi amor," you replied softly, taking one of his hands that had been resting on the gentle swell of your belly and bringing to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "I'm perfect. What about you, Frankie? Did you rest well?"

"Like a dream," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly letting go and moving towards the coffee pot. Once he poured a cup and made it to his liking, he came over, and followed your line of sight out into the yard.

There was nothing but mountains of glittering snow coating the entire neighborhood as far as the eye could see. Small children were already playing outside, all bundled up in thick snow jackets and woolen hats, while dogs ran around their yards barking and biting at soft, fat flakes that were gently drifting down from the heavens.

"Record snowfalls," you looked at him with excited eyes, "which means we are snowed in and work is canceled. Do I even try to pretend to be upset?"

"Hell no," his smile was infectious as his singular dimple appeared and his soft eyes crinkled in the corners the way you adored, "I get to spend the say being lazy at home with my girl? I'm not going to argue with that."

"You know what today calls for," your eyes were wide and bright as the two of you knew exactly what a snow day meant. You'd come up with your own little traditions a long time ago and always pulled them out on days like this.

"You just want an excuse for hot chocolate!" Frankie's tone was lovingly accusing as he crossed his arms over his chest as he took a sip from his mug.

"No!" you insisted firmly, offering him a small little pout, "your daughter is craving some. Ever since you knocked me up that's all I've been wanting! And I don't need any excuse for hot chocolate. Hot chocolate isn't a crime!"

"First of all, this -" he pointed tenderly to the small bump just visible under your sweater, "was a team effort. Secondly, you've always loved my hot chocolate, long before any of this. She had nothing to do with this!”

"Obviously," you stuck your tongue out at him, "but you make it all fancy and gourmet. How can I say no? She's not helping though! I swear it's a craving."

“Your mamá is already using you as an excuse,” he laughed as he rested his hand on your belly. You instantly felt her move and flutter under his touch; she always seemed to be more active when he was around. Even though you were trying to have a seriously teasing conversation, the moment was enough to make your heart melt, “can you believe it, mija? She just doesn’t want to admit she’s addicted to the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I can quit it any time I want,” you snorted with laughter at his silly antics, “I just choose not to. Now, don’t deny your pregnant wife what she wants!”

“What does she want?” there was a wicked little glint in his eye as you raised a brow at him.

“Well for starters,” you pointed at the cabinet, “some hot chocolate later. But how about breakfast for now? And a warm bath after that? I swear I’m getting as bad as you old man, my back is killing me.”

“Hey now,” he warned with a small boop to your nose, “you’re getting awfully cheeky for someone who wants my hot chocolate. You’re on very thin ice, honey bee.”

“You know I’m only kidding, Francisco,” you gave him a quick kiss as you went to the refrigerator to start gathering ingredients for breakfast, “besides, you’re my favorite DILF.”

“Oh no,” his laughter was a loud, beautiful thing as it sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned to him and shot him a cheeky little wink, “not you too! Everyone’s calling me that lately, I swear.”

“They can look but they can’t touch. I mean, have you seen yourself Frankie? You’re handsome as hell, you’re amazing, wonderful, kind. Everything,” you insisted as you rejoined his side, You could already see the light flush of color in his cheeks as he relished your words, “and you’re all mine. Besides, I’m half the reason you’re a DILF. Where is my recognition in all of this?”

“I love you, honey bee,” he stared at you in awe for a moment before turning so he could kiss you properly. It took you by surprise but it took even less to respond back; kissing him was such saccharine bliss, “you are everything to me.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “now let’s get this ultimate lazy day started!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Those might have been our best pancakes ever,” you wolfed down the last syrupy bite before pushing away your empty plate, “I feel as stuffed as a damn turkey.”

“You’re the most beautiful and radiant turkey I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked as you lovingly groaned at his silly words, “I’ll clean up and you can start the bath. Plan?”

“Plan,” you agreed as you slid off the bar stool and started padding towards the kitchen. As Frankie busied himself with gathering up the empty dishes, you turned around and watched him for a moment, nothing but a gentle warmth radiating throughout your body, “Frankie? You’re going to join me, right?”

He turned to you and offered you his megawatt smile as he slowly nodded, a rogue curl bouncing around and falling onto his forehead. Gods, he was so effortlessly handsome and sweet. You couldn’t stop yourself from rushing over to him, delicately grabbing his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the faint sweetness of the syrup, “what was that for?”

“Nothing,” you grinned breathlessly, “I just love you is all.”

“Oh,” a flush of pink tinged his cheeks as he brought his hands to your face, delicately tracing over your features before pressing the softest kiss to your lips, “I love you too.”

“I know,” you beamed, “now hurry up so we can take a bath!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming under your breath, sitting at the edge of the large tub as you watched it fill up with warm water. There weren’t very many requirements you had when the two of you had been house hunting before deciding to expand your family - but a large bathtub was one of them. Moments like this made you glad for it; you loved being able to slip into the tub, often dragging along Frankie with you, not that he had any complaints of course. It was perfect for the two of you, and now that you seemed to be growing by the day, it was even better. 

Pulling your favorite bottle of bubble bath off the shelf, you poured some in, inhaling deeply at the relaxing scent. All the stress and worries you had were already dissolving away with each passing second. Once you were satisfied with the copious amounts of soft bubbles, you threw in some Epsom salt for good measure, hoping it would help your aching body. Deciding to make it even more festive, you grabbed the speaker from your bedroom, and turned it on, opting to play some soft Christmas music in the background. It wasn’t like you were going to be paying much attention to it anyway; your conversations with Frankie always seemed endless, no matter how long the two of you had been together. 

“Close your eyes,” Frankie came into the bathroom just as you were finishing getting everything ready. You closed your eyes, making a show of putting your hands over your eyes as you heard him shuffling in, “okay, pick a hand - left or right.”

“Hmmm…” you mused for a moment, “how about left?”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckled as he pulled your hands from your eyes. A little grin spread across your features when you saw what he was holding in his hands, “surprise!”

“Frankie,” his name was but a mere soft sigh as you reached for the soft, cozy pajamas he was holding out to you. You could spy a matching pair for him on the counter, your heart fluttering in delight. It had become a sort of little tradition for the two of you to get new matching holiday pajamas every year. It was just some silly thing, but it still meant the world to you, “I love them. Thank you so much - you remembered.”

“Of course,” he held out his hands to you, slowly hoisting you to your feet, “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He slowly reached for the hem of your sweater, gently pulling up and over your head and outstretched arms before tossing it on the floor. He followed suit with your bra, unclasping it before letting it join your sweater and doing the same to your leggings and underwear. It was such a small intimate thing, the way his eyes looked over you was nothing short of adoration and reverence. 

“Your turn,” you whispered before starting to unbutton his flannel, taking your time to undo it one by one. Shrugging it off his shoulders, you pressed a few kisses to the soft, golden skin of his shoulder before moving onto his jeans, wicking them down his legs along with his boxers. He made a small sound in his throat before stepping out of his jeans and pulling you into his arms. The gentle coolness of his wedding band on your back was wonderful; a delicate reminder of just how much he loved you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a hand running down your side as he rested it on your waist, taking solace in the gentle swell of your belly. He still couldn’t believe your daughter - his daughter, one that came as a small surprise and blessing was in there. One he had never known he wanted so much until you told him you were pregnant and he broke down crying, as emotional as you were. You, the two of you, were everything for him. 

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re not so bad yourself. I guess we both got pretty lucky, huh? I love you so much, Francisco. More than you will ever know.” 

He looked back at you with those brown eyes you adored so much, and you could see that they were glossy, close to spilling over with tears. You reached up and touched his cheek before brushing away a stray curl. 

“Come on,” he held your hand as you motioned towards the tub. He got in first, settling down before holding his arms out to you. Carefully, you settled in next to him surprising him for a moment as you occupied the other side. Before he could say anything, you gathered up a handful of bubbles, and blew them at him, watching as they stuck in his dark mop of hair, “playing dirty are we?”

“Maybe,” you splashed him with the warm water, “you have to play nice, I’m pregnant!”

“You started it!” he splashed you back as you squealed in delight, “don’t start what you can’t finish!”

“Oh, it’s on! It’s so on,” you laughed as you tried to move the bubbles closer to your half of the tub, “you’re going down!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Do you have enough blankets, honey?” Frankie walked back into the living room, arms filled with a few more big, fuzzy blankets. You looked up from the comfy couch, during the numerous blankets you’d already secured and gave him a big grin. You were already feeling so toasty and warm in your new pajamas after your bath, and this just made it so much better. He snorted with laughter at the sight of only your head poking out, “oh.”

“It’s freezing!” you insisted, digging your arm out and pointing at your feet, “pile them on! The only thing I’m missing is your body.”

“I have a few more things to do first,” he put the blankets down and wrapped them around your feet, “gonna start a fire and then go and make the hot chocolate. You, my little bee, are in charge of finding our first movie. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“As if that’s a question,” you joked as you reached for the remote, as he went over to the fireplace, “you just need to hurry up!”

"You are getting so demanding," he laughed as he kneeled next to the fireplace and started to pile some of the logs in. He started to hum softly under his breath as you watched him, absolutely in awe of the man you were able to call your husband. The sight of him in the same pajamas as you was endearing and caused you a moment of pause as you pictured doing this next year with him and your daughter. 

You often wondered what she would like, although you both knew that the only thing that mattered was that she was healthy and sound. But a small part of you hoped she'd take after Frankie, to have those gentle chocolate eyes and dark curls. Maybe she'd take after you, or maybe -

"Everything alright?" Frankie turned and caught your distant gaze on him as she started to light the fire. You hadn't realized you'd gotten so lost in your little daydream. 

"Yes," you smiled at him, "just thinking..."

"Thinking about...."

"Its silly..."

"If it matters to you then it's not silly," he insisted, making a small sound of satisfaction when the fire started to crackle away merrily.

"I was just thinking about next year," you admitted shyly, "you know how we do the matching pjs every year? I think it would be fun to do that with the bean next year."

"I love the sound of that," he agreed, "that'll make a great Christmas card!"

"Yeah," you agreed as he brought you a pillow to rest your head on, "you really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Only for my bee," he promised with a wink and a kiss, "I'll go and make the hot chocolate. Classic for you today?"

"Surprise me!"

"Be back," he promised as pointed at the television, "now pick something good out!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

It seemed like it had been a small eternity since Frankie had left to go on his little adventure of hot chocolate making, and you'd long since found a suitable movie. You started it but kept it paused as you waited. But soon you felt a flutter in your belly. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you put your hand on your tummy where you felt her moving around.

"I know baby bean," you told her gently, "I miss him too. Even when he's gone only for a few minutes. You're gonna love him so much, just like me. He's going to be the best papá. We already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you."

"Talking to yourself?" just in time your knight in cozy pajamas came striding back in with two delicious steaming mugs of hot chocolate. 

"I am never alone anymore," you reminded him as he came and cozied up next to you, "I've always got the bean. And we were having a private conversation, thank you very much."

"Please don't let me interrupt," he passed your mug over before pulling blankets over his form and you curled up in his side. You grinned at the full mug, admiring how perfectly he had made it. It was a classic, a layer of mini marshmallows followed by a layer of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.

"Thank you, Frankie," you beamed as you took a long sip, savoring the creamy sweetness on your tongue. You heard a soft chuckle before Frankie reached over and wiped off the whipped cream from your nose, "oops!"

"Good?" he asked as you nodded eagerly. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and gave you a soft, saccharine little kiss. He lingered against your lips and you could taste the sweetness of the hot chocolate that was clinging onto him. He grinned before giving you a few more pecks, each sweeter than the last, "even better. Now, start this movie and let's get this marathon on the road!"

You clutched your mug to your chest as Frankie brought an arm over your shoulders and you pressed play on your first cheesy holiday movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn't long before you felt your eyes start to get heavy as you finished your mug of hot chocolate. You were about to move it to the coffee table, but Frankie beat you to the punch, grabbing it from your hands and setting down before pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you as you laid against his chest and let the soft rise and fall of his chest relax and lull you.

Soon enough your eyes closed and everything seemed distant. You didn't even try to fight it as Frankie pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand was holding yours, your fingers laced together and the other was resting on your belly. It wasn't long before you were completely under the siren spell of sleep and snoring quietly in his arms.

"I love you, honey bee," he whispered ever so gently as he relaxed too, growing more tired by the second, "and you too, baby bee. You two are everything."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[shootingstarwritings]

FEStival Fiasco

Part 2

Part 1, Prologue

You’re Gonna Carry that Weight

Before the competition, the students were given time to research the cultures of the planet they would soon infiltrate. For Centaurus, what interested him the most was the cowboy. He had obsessively watched several spaghetti westerns and read many books detailing the rugged outlaws that prowled the western United States.

To Centaurus, the cowboy embodied freedom. He was a gallant legend that wandered the land, not caring about class or even order he dispensed justice wherever he went. He proudly carried himself with his smooth-talking ways and underhanded tricks that resonated so strongly with Centaurus. At least, that was the image that Centaurus had carved into his mind. I want to be like that. Not a worm, but a cowboy.

Now, staring a real-life cowboy at one of the food stalls in the early festival hours, he found himself unable to even utter a word.

“Uh, ya see somethin’ ya like?” The man said with a carefree grin. As soon as the cowboy spoke up, Centaurus jumped in his seat. He was still in Ken’s body, but the man’s memory and charisma completely failed. Even his own natural talent fizzled out.

“Um, yeah—no, wait, shit! Didn’t mean it like that,” said Centaurus, now pointedly looking away. He couldn't recall a time when he had gotten this flustered. What was happening to him? “Forget about it, all right?”

The stall owner arched an eyebrow at the two, but she didn’t say anything. She simply served their food with a polite nod.

Centaurus meant to walk away and crawl in a hole, but the cowboy stepped right in his way. Clad in a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat, he wore both his clothes and expression with unrivaled charisma. “Howdy,” he said, carefully enunciating the word.

“H-Hey...”

“C’mon! No need to be shy. Walk with me.” Seeing no reason to decline, Centaurus allowed himself to be guided around by this man straight out of his fantasies. “Name’s Austin,” he introduced himself. “Southern boy by birth and trade. You?”

“C-Cent,” was as far Centaurus said before clamming up again.

“Cent? Funny li’l name,” Austin said with a laugh. “Cute, tho. Like, rolls off the tongue real nice.” His tongue licked his lips just the slightest bit as he spoke. Centaurus nearly melted right then and there.

“So, what caught yer eye?” said Austin.

“Oh, uh, guess… how out there you are,” Centaurus said, mentally kicking himself as the conversation drew on. He had walked into this conversation flat-footed and tumbled in just about every exchange. His heart was racing, and his whole body burned with a desire he couldn't snuff out. “You’re eye-catching, is all I can say.”

Austin leaned in, grinning as he said, “Think I’m more than that to ya. Yer startin’ to pitch a tent, y’know,” with a wink. Centaurus grit his teeth, cursing under his breath as he looked down at himself. Austin continued, saying, “C’mon, let’s get ya somewhere more discreet ‘fore security kicks ya outta this place.”

Without waiting for a response, Austin took Centaurus’ hand and dragged him away from the festival. “Don’t worry, I ain’t roomin’ with any folks,” he said, head bopping back and forth as though he was humming a song to himself. “We’ll be private.”

“I-If you say so,” said Centaurus.

They arrived soon afterward. On occasion, Centaurus caught a few stares from the various guests that ate from the continental breakfast, but he didn’t worry about that. Now he was alone in the cowboy’s room. As he sat on the foot of the bed, he noticed that there was what he figured was the scent of the great southern frontier. Austin was here for merely a day, and already his scent had marked the room.

“It’s my candle,” said Austin, excitedly gesturing to a container with a candle decorated with a tiny, smiling cowboy inside. “Friend o’ mine gave it to me ‘fore I left. Said it’d keep the ranch in my heart,” he said. “Always a romantic, that girl, bless her heart. But still, always makes these sterile rooms feel a li’l bit more like home.” Home…

“How come you left?” said Centaurus.

“Yer a noisy one, ain’tcha?” Austin said, not dropping his smile. “Guess it felt like it was high time fer me to just...travel, y’know? Spent my whole life on the ranch. Felt like I had to break away ‘n’ find m’own path. Wanted to sorta find something. Myself, maybe. Headed to this town and chatted a friend up from my childhood. Planned on goin’ to the festival together, but he got hit hard with the flu. So I walked ‘round the place, lookin’ fer somethin’ to do.”

“And that’s when you picked me up?”

Austin chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t put it like that. ‘d rather call it sweepin’ ya off yer feet, my friend.”

“And you call your friend a romantic,” Centaurus said, tittering to himself. Uneasiness long forgotten, he continued to chat away and talk with Austin until the two of them fell back onto the bed together, slowly undressing. “I’ve never done this with a cowboy before, I gotta admit.”

“Well, I ain’t just a cowboy, Cent. I’m Austin.”

Yeah, Centaurus thought, you’re Austin. What lied before him was no longer a cowboy—a character he so fondly thought of. Instead, it was a man that found him, for whatever reason, charming. “Come here,” said Centaurus, lying down on top of Austin. He could hear his heart gently beating. You’re wonderful.

Centaurus, fully nude, spread his legs. Austin first started by teasing his hole with a finger, then his tongue. “Gonna do this right,” he said in-between his tongue teases. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Promise.” Centaurus just nodded, trembling with anticipation. His legs quivered with just the foreplay.

However, the teasing went on for far too long. His hole, initially tingling with pleasure, now felt played with and empty. “Oh, just fuck me already,” Centaurus moaned.

“Beg a li’l more,” Austin said.

“Please, Austin. Tear me in two already.”

“Nah, nah, that ain’t want I’m lookin’ fer.” Austin raised himself and lied on top of Centaurus’ chest with a smirk on his face. “Ask me for a lovin’. Something so sweet yer tight li’l ass will never forget.”

Swallowing, Centaurus said, “Make love to me, Austin. Make me forget about my fucking life,” and Austin complied.

Austin softly whispered, “Yer moans’re so hot,” and, “cry harder for me...” as he pounded Centaurus. “So cute, Cent,” he said before groaning in pleasure as well as he sped up.

Centaurus nearly fainted as he felt Austin fuck him. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, biting down on his knuckles. As soon as Austin said his name, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in that fantasy. There was no Ken, no competition, nothing except himself and this man who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

“God, fuck, yer so damn tight, Cent!” Austin cried out as he drew back and slammed into Centaurus with wild abandon. “Moan more fer me, c’mon!” he said, pumping Centaurus’ dick as he fucked him.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck fuck fuck! Sh-Shit, I’m cumming…!”

Austin took that opportunity to lean in and hungrily kiss Centaurus, who reciprocated. He drank in as much of Austin’s heavy pants and scent as he could. After so many times of hearing another name with a partner, it was nice to feel as though he didn’t have to pretend. He lied bare to this man who miraculously knew so little about him, and it was so liberating.

Centaurus’ midsection tightened, and then he came sticky ropes onto Austin’s chest. The two groaned into each other’s mouths as they came together.

“Maybe it’s just the high I got, but… I love yer company, Cent.”

In-between pants, Centaurus said, “I feel the same way, Austin,” and desperately wished he meant every word. He knew this had nothing to do with the mission or his desire to finally build his career, but he still wished this would last forever.

“What’s the matter, Cent? Yer lookin’ a bit down.”

“Not sure. I… I seriously don’t know.”

“Well, dunno if this makes ya feel any better but, I thought yer pretty nice company if I do say so myself,” said Austin with a small, charming smile.

However, Centaurus still thought about her. Zathina’s bitter and hateful expression remained in the back of his mind. He could still feel her shoe nearly crushing his windpipe. “You’re wasting time,” he imagined her saying with that sneer of hers. Alongside her sickening voice was the word worm over and over again like it was branded directly into his brain. “Indulging in these nonsensical things,” the voice continued, “you’re pathetic. Looks like the winner is clear. I suppose you truly are a worm after all.”

“Kiss me,” said Centaurus.

“Hmm?” Austin hummed, surprised at his sudden interruption.

Not waiting for an answer, Centaurus wrapped an arm around Austin’s neck and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. “Mmm, mmm!” Austin didn’t initially fight back until he felt something slipping in through his mouth.

Centaurus disconnected himself from Ken’s brain, leaving behind some toxic behind, and quickly slithered into Austin’s open, vulnerable mouth. Eventually, Austin pushed an unconscious Ken off, but it was already too late. The alien was already making its way through his mouth and into his brain. Austin tried to grab at the alien, but he failed to get a grasp. He fell back onto the bed and began to convulse as pleasure and fear overrode his entire body.

Switching host was always a dizzying experience for Centaurus. Not only because looking at his host body disoriented him with the raping changing of faces, but because there remained a little bit of himself in them.

“Wake up,” Centaurus commanded Ken. Wordlessly, Ken sat up in the bed. “Go home to your partner. Don’t even look at me.” Ken nodded and began to leave. “Put your clothes on first! Animal...”

For all members of his kind, the toxic vanishes from the host after about 20 minutes. Ken would be back to normal with little recollection of what he did. The experience that Ken went through would be forgotten. Same with Austin when Centaurus eventually left. Even if by some twist of fate they crossed paths again, Centaurus would be the only one left with that moment in his memories.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and saw no trace of the man that he shared that tender moment with. No matter how much Centaurus tried to laugh, frown, or even cry, he could no longer see Austin anymore. All that the mirror reflected was a worm pretending to be a man. He was alone.

[pascalpanic]

At Last (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Summary: you, Frankie, and your fur baby go camping! Little does Frankie know what you have planned.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, alcohol, food, language, otherwise, this is toothaching fluff!

A/N: SAMMY MY BELOVED @sanchosammy GAVE ME THIS IDEA! I hope it’s as cute as I think it is :) also, Charlie (Frankie’s pup) isn’t involved in this fic but she is still part of the fam :)

Pine trees surround you on either side, tall and majestic. You can see the blue-gray sky patching through the canopy; the clouds are leaving, but some linger a little longer to clog up the sky. The air is warm and slightly humid, but a wonderful breeze rustles through the trees and rushes across your bare arms. Your trail shoes squelch underfoot in the damp ground. You sigh, totally content with this moment. 

Frankie’s flannel is tied around his waist, leaving him in his khaki cargo pants and t-shirt. A couple of curls peek out from under his ball cap, turning into little ringlets at the nape of his neck. He walks in front of you on the trail, his boots pressing prints into the soft ground. His back profile is beautiful, even with the large camping pack, and you can’t help but grin. 

Foxtrot embodies her name- Frankie is holding her leash, and the auburn and white dog trots up ahead of him, sniffing along the mulched and muddied path. The air smells of humidity that’s just passed over and that wonderful accompanying petrichor. Fox’s white paws are surely getting dirtied, but that’s only to be expected. You don’t care, too excited to watch your boyfriend and dog walk ahead of you. 

Frowning at the bend of Frankie’s back, you catch up and take his free hand. “Let me carry something, baby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers through yours. “You have important cargo,” he teases and pats your back lightly. 

Strapped to your back, in a backpack-style blue case, is your ukulele. One hand carries the cooler, slung over your shoulder, filled with food and drinks for tonight. Frankie carries the heavy-duty stuff- the tent, stakes, more essential supplies. “At least let me take Fox.”

Her red ears perk up at her name and she stops, turning and growing excited, as if she forgot you were there. “Yeah, hi Foxy!” You coo as she runs towards you, jumping with her front paws in the air in excitement. “Yeah, you love it out here, don’t you?” You ask her in a baby voice, scratching behind her ears as she circles around your legs and prevents you from moving. Frankie drops her leash in order to prevent your legs from being tourniqueted by it, and it drags behind her in the mud. 

When you pick up the leash, it’s sludgy and damp, but you don’t mind too much. You continue the hike forward and Frankie and Fox follow at your sides, both beaming ear to ear and enjoying the serenity of the woods. 

Frankie picked the campsite, so he’s technically leading the way, but the trail is fairly straightforward, meaning you don’t need to be led. Frankie points out wildlife here and there: chipmunks, rabbits, cardinals and chickadees flitting through the pine-needled canopy. He’s in his element, and you’re in yours: with him. 

The mud gives way to drier ground ahead, and luckily enough Frankie pulls off to the side. It’s the perfect spot, with a beautiful little field of wildflowers. “Welcome to your five-star hotel for the night, babe,” he assures you and kisses you softly, making you giggle and kiss him back with excitement and a pinch of nerves in your stomach.

There’s a routine the two of you have silently adopted. Frankie sets up the small tent, just big enough for the two of you and Fox. You gather kindling, set up a fire, arrange the chairs and all-around make the outdoor area of your campsite ideal.

Frankie is a man of patience, truly, but sometimes the little portable tent proves to be a challenge. You allow Fox off of her leash, knowing she’s well-trained enough to stick around the site, and find your way to the mess of fabric and stakes covering the man. “Baby. For the love of God, we do this all the time,” you tease.

“Well, something must’ve fucking changed,” he grumbles as he fiddles with the parts. You get on your knees on the soft bed of dried pine needles and help him out. With your help, the tent takes no time at all to put up, and you stand and brush off your hands. Frankie gives you a sheepish smile and you give him a kiss. 

The two of you don’t need to converse while you set things up. You enjoy the woods, the rustling of the wind and chirping of birds. Fox curls up on the blanket you set out for her, and when everything is done, you unzip the cooler and hand Frankie a beer. “Well, now we’re all set.”

“Let the fun begin,” he chuckles and twists the top open, clinking his glass bottle to yours. 

“So, Francisco,” you smile over at him. “What do you have planned for this trip? I know you have some sort of plan laid out up there,” you tease and rap on his head softly, through the trucker cap resting there.

He blushes a little and looks away. “I don’t always have a plan.”

“Hey.” You turn his face back to yours by the chin. “You do and I absolutely love it. Now tell me about it, please, baby.”

Frankie removes his hat and runs a hand through his curls. “Well, I figured we could start the fire soon, cook dinner over it. It’ll get dark pretty quick. Then hang around the campfire, maybe play some of the games I packed.”

“Is a quiet tumble in the tent on the cards?” You ask him with a teasing grin, nudging his side. 

He shrugs, jokingly, as if he’s considering it. “I don’t see why we couldn’t squeeze that in. We only have, oh… three hours of time in between these plans.”

“Then we’ll use all three of those hours,” you shrug and steal a kiss, smiling into his lips. “I love you. And I love it out here.” You were never a nature person before Frankie, usually preferring indoors adventures to hiking or camping. Frankie looks like he belongs out here, and he probably thinks he does. Even if you didn’t enjoy the fun of outdoors adventuring, you’d have at least one thing to enjoy: Frankie’s excitement and enthusiasm over it. “Thank you.”

Fox is curled at Frankie’s feet, and he bends over to scratch her ears, running his fingers through her scruffy fur. “Thank you, baby. For coming out here with me and putting up with all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better adventure partner.”

-

You do, indeed, cook dinner over the fire. You’d prepped all kinds of chopped vegetables to be grilled over an open flame, and had additionally packed pre-cooked hot dogs as well as s’mores ingredients. Frankie is a firm believer that it’s not camping if it doesn’t include graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.

Luckily, your Frankie is a skilled griller. He always is, always has been. He takes care of the cooking part, since you prepared everything else, though he lets you hold the hot dogs over the fire to roast. “I feel like I’m at camp again,” you laugh as you slowly rotate the food over the fire.

Frankie is taking charge of the vegetables, expertly. They’re getting a beautiful char, you notice. “It’s much better, because you don’t have to sneak around to make out with your boyfriend at night, huh?” He teases and tosses you a grin. 

“But I get my boyfriend all to myself,” you nod and confirm. “And I have my baby girl with me,” you coo as you rub Foxtrot’s head, where she’s resting at your side.

The meal is delicious, of course, when the two of you work together and each used your strong skills. Frankie slips bites to Fox when he thinks you’re not looking, of course, but it’s endearing, the way the dog’s big brown eyes mirror those looking down at her.

There’s not much conversation while you eat, mouths occupied with food rather than speaking. That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow.

The sun starts sinking lower when Frankie brings the marshmallows from the tent. “Guess what time it is!” He exclaims as he rips open the bag, skewering two marshmallows and holding them over the fire.

Like he’s a skilled griller, he’s also a wonderful marshmallow-toaster. Frankie toasts yours to perfection, just the way you like it, and you do your part as the s’more-sandwicher, shoving the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate.

There’s no signal out here, and you agreed neither of you would use your phones unless an emergency happened. Frankie frowns as he sees your phone. “Hey. Put that away. Don’t use that.”

“There’s an emergency, Frankie,” you whine, opening the camera app with one hand and eating the sugary dessert with the other.

“And what’s that?” He asks, taking a bite of his s’more. 

Strings of gooey marshmallow connect the sandwich to his lips, making him laugh, and you snap a picture at the perfect moment: Frankie’s closed-lipped smile as his s’more falls apart on him. “You’re too damn cute, that’s the emergency,” you laugh and set the photo as your lock screen, tossing it away.

Frankie’s schedule actually worked itself naturally. After the s’mores and a wet-wipe hand-washing to remove the endless marshmallow from Frankie’s hands, you find yourself sitting around the fire, no light left in the sky. When you look up, all you can see is inky blue and pine trees, the stars yet to make their nightly rise. 

“I have a song request,” Frankie asks and raises his hand like a child in a classroom.

“Yes, Francisco?” You tease as you walk to the tent, grabbing your ukulele and returning with it, sitting back in your lawn chair with it. “Hit me.”

“Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel. No, wait- Country Roads.”

Laughing, you noodle around with the strings for a moment. You knew this moment would come, and here’s the opportunity. “I can play all of those and more, Frankie. We’ll do the Billy Joel first,” you nod decisively.

Frankie sounds like the forest wolves at night when he sings along. He absolutely howls, taken away by the song, taken to a place where his voice isn’t just a little on the rougher end of good. He belts the words and dances along in his seat, like you do.

Then Country Roads. You thought the last one was bad before you hear Frankie’s booming voice echoing the ballad of West Virginia through seemingly the entire preserve. But you don’t care in the slightest. You sing along proudly, strumming your ukulele harder and harder until you’re sure you can’t add any more volume before snapping a string. 

After the song, you pause and rest your ukulele flat on your lap. “Frankie, baby. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, smiling over at you. “Any time. What’s up, buttercup?” He asks, taking one of your hands and kissing the knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” You ask. The question is straight and to the point, blunt and honest. Your face conveys your hope, and the grandiose speech follows. “I love you beyond belief, Frankie. I love you almost as much as you love these woods. I know you love me too. I just… think it’s time. We’ll be perfect for it. What do you say?”

You can feel Frankie’s slightly-chapped lips curve into a smile against your hand. He’s grinning and then he’s crying, soft water droplets forming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he grins, grabbing your ukulele and setting it aside.

Once the ukulele is on the ground, Frankie stands in front of your chair and lifts you to your feet, kissing you with such fervor you can’t help but gasp. When he breaks away, you smile, eyes watering too. “I know it wasn’t the most elegant of proposals, but-”

“It was the most us,” Frankie cuts you off with a teary grin. “I would be honored to be your husband, my love. You really want me enough to do that?”

“Frankie,” you coo, cupping his face in your hand. “You are the best husband I could ever want, could ever dream for,” you assure him and kiss his nose gently.

The man laughs, wiping his tears away. “Then let’s get married,” he whoops excitedly, then lets out an excited shout to the woods. “We’re getting married!”

You laugh at his loud and booming declaration, but nothing can detract you for the love and joy in your heart.

When you and Frankie settle down in your chairs again, you pick up the ukulele and finish off with one last beautiful song that you and Frankie have always adored, with a title that truly fits: At Last.

-

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[spookysmujer]

Peaches, O. Diaz

Summary: Oscar and Y/N spend a pleasurable night together.

warnings:  s m u t 🥵 18+. public s e x, unprotected s e x 

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Fina-fkn-ly I have written Oscar smut! You would think with this blog dedicated around him that I would have done so already. Who doesn’t like the Santos party + sex? I am not @youare-mysonshine​, who has the best damn Oscar smut on this site, I am but her apprentice, LOL. Enjoy! And please don’t forget to follow, heart, comment, reblog and turn on those notifs for when I post something new. Lots of love!! Thank you for +800 followers!

(gif credit goes to @merakiaes 🦋)

“So it took your brother being shot for you to come around?”

You hear from behind you, as you swivel in your spot there is the man of the hour. Spooky is celebrating his 25th birthday and a victory in showing Prophet$ what’s good with last nights showdown.

A small smile forms on your lips as you briefly look away from him to avoid the red hue on your cheeks worsening. Oscar definitely has a way with women, it doesn’t take much for him to have the ladies swooning, or on their knees. And it’s no secret he prefers the latter. 

“Yeah, it’s definitely not for the reason of you make it to half a century”. He now stands in front of you, one hand in his pocket as the other holds his beer close to him. It’s a moment of silence, him looking down at you and you up at him.

When your brother, known as Joker, begged you to come home for a weekend you were hesitant too. And with how things went down, you were right to be. Shit had gone down on Santos turf resulting in your brother getting hit but nothing compared to what the Prophet$ got handed back to them. And all in the weekend that Oscar’s birthday bash is happening too.

“Good, I was hoping that was the reason. ‘Ridge been boring without you around. How’s life been up in Bakersfield?” He asks you as you two begin a small walk around the house to a quieter setting.

You shrug as you kick gravel around, “As good as you can guess. But my business degree is being put to use. So not long til I can repay for you the loan you gave my brother for me. Promise.”

He shakes his head after taking a swig of beef, his mouth pressed together tightly, lips licking the remaining that lingered. Damn. “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Whenever you can.”

A small laugh from you, “People are gonna think you got a soft spot for me doing that kind of shit.”

“Let um think that they want. They wouldn’t be wrong.” He keeps his line of sight  in front of him as you look to him. You both lean against his impala as the soft moonlight reflects of the shiny paint of the red car.

After staring at him for a moment, you look away as he takes his turn at looking at you, his eyes burn into you as you clear your throat, “Careful.”

“What?” He grins at you with his signature grin.

You can feel your cheeks burn hotter by the second. And you also know that Oscar knows what he is doing, you’ve seen him do it to other girls.That look that seals the deal and then he is leading them into house. Probably notable that most of those girls plan on getting in bed with him from the moment they arrive. 

“That. You know what you’re doing and I am not like all them girls that you’ve banged in there.” You point to the house as you take a swig of your half empty beer. Oscar audibly laughs as he pushes himself off car.

He downs the last of his beer and tosses it to the trashcan across the way. You watch it as he moves to stand in front of you. This makes you correct your posture as he moves in even closer, lessening the open space between the two of you.

Oscar licks his lips, ever so slowly. He wipes his mouth of any remaining alcohol and places his hands on the car, each on the side of you, “That’s what I like about you. That you aren’t like them. You don’t come around here in hopes of some action. And if I’m being honest? That shit is attractive to me, knowin’ I gotta get you.” 

“Get me? You’re real smooth, y’know?” You scan his face, eyes staring into his as he grins, leaning in til you feel his breath his your lips. 

But the truth is, he is smooth. “Mmm.” He hum as he closes that space and your lips are on his. The chaste kiss is held for a moment before you both start to kiss each other, open mouth and quickly are your tongues dancing.

“Yo, Spooky finally gon hit Joker’s fine ass sister!”

You hear loudly, pulling back and turning around to see one of the Santos standing near the house. You groan as you flip him off and cover your face with your hands, “So get the fuck away, foo.” Oscar says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The Santo laughs backing away with his hands up in defense. Though partially embarrassed, you can’t help but laugh. Oscar’s hands rest on your hips, rubbing gently and pulling you back to lean against his body. He doesn’t say anything else, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. Trailing kisses til he reaches your neck where you know there will be markings the next day.

Oscar’s hands feel your body, rising up your torso to cup your breasts. All of it, leaning against him, his hands, the kisses... it’s all too much to not react so when you moan, he laughs and kisses your neck more. One of his hands leave your body and pulls your face to the left and his lips meet yours.

While you two kiss you grab his other hand, bravely pushing down towards your heat. He doesn’t waste anytime and slips his hand in your shorts feeling you over you underwear, your body feeling weak when he massages your sensitive bud.

“W-we gotta go inside.” You mumble against lips and you feel him smile, his hand in your pants dipping lower to spread your arousal, earning more moans. “Nah, mami. Just relax, those foos not gonna come out here again.”

That’s when he releases you and steps back, you pout at the absence of his touch. You turn around as he grabs the waistband of your jean shorts and swiftly pulls them down to your knees, you gasp loudly trying to reach down to pull them back up, “Are you crazy? I’m not gonna fuck you out here. I don’t care if your homies won’t come back here, you have neighbors and I’m woman enough for you to take me inside!” 

He only laughs, picking you up to sit on the car, the cool metal making you squirm, “No one can see us, just trust me. I ain’t tryna fuck you out here, just curious.” Oscar unbuttons his flannel and pulls it off, balling it up and putting it behind you, pushing you back to lay your head on it as a pillow. He swiftly pulls off your shorts and spreads your legs, his finger hooking your panties to the side, “Oh my god, I cannot believe you are gonn-”

His tongue against your clit shut you up quickly. It causes your breath to hitch and words lost as he licks more swipes against your heat. He tortures you with the way he does it slowly, but the sensation feels like bliss, “Sweet as peaches, mamas.”

You feel relaxed, letting your legs rest comfortably over his shoulders. His lips covering your entire cunt now, tongue swirling on your clit and then dipping down into your entrance. And when he pulls back then back down to suck on your swollen bud like sweet nectar, your back arches. And you’ve had guys go down on your before, but something about the way he does it. He doesn’t shove his fingers in like you are use to having and it makes the moment more enjoyable.

“What no extra pleasure with your fingers? Fuck.” You squeeze your breast together, eyes closed. Thanking sweet baby Jesus in heaven! “You gonna tell me how to pleasure you? I know what I’m doing. Shhh.” 

He bites the inside of your thigh, a moan let out a little too loud. You cover your mouth with your hand. You sit up on your elbows to watch him work his way to your release but the darkness makes it hard to see much, “Take me inside.”

Oscar licks your cunt once more before leaning up to kiss you, your arousal on his tongue and lips, “Ever taste yourself before, hm?” He kisses you more not letting you answer.

“Hm, yeah. I’ve tasted other girls too, but you’re right, mine is sweet like peaches.” You whisper as you peck his lips then looking into his eyes, his mouth slightly agape at your confession. You’re smirking as your hands move under his tank to feel his skin.

He doesn’t say anything as he collects your shorts and his flannel, picking you up and placing you on his shoulder, your ass cheeks bare in just your lace thong. “Oh my gosh, Oscar!”

Oscar smacks your ass he walks to the two of you into his house. You won’t lie to yourself that you’ve fantasized about getting into bed with him. The guy is not just beautiful being but sexy as fuck as well and he knows it too.

He drops you on his bed and rids himself of his tank, you doing the same. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over you, you wrapping your legs over his hips pulling his face down to kiss you. No more slow moving, no more games. It’s freaky business NOW.

You reach your hand between the two of you to feel him through his pants. And he does not disappoint in his size. You unbuckle his annoyingly long belt, finally getting it free for you to unbutton his jeans. You move your hand inside and wrap your hand on his semi-hardened member, stroking it entirely. He groans into your mouth as you do so. 

“I’m wet and you’re hard, com’n.”

 He stops kissing you and reaches between the two of you to take your hand out of his pants. He shimmies out of it and sits up to remove your panties. And with your demand to hurry, he spits on your mound and smears it around before guiding himself in.

The slight burn passes quickly as the pleasurable sensation hits you soon after. You bite your lip as Oscar stands at the foot of the bed, moving your legs up to rest against him. He starts slowly for the two of you to get familiar with the feeling of each other.

You arch your back to reach under to unclasp your bra. He marvels at your tits as you kneed them, looking at him in the eyes with lust, “Show me how Spooky fucks, Papi.” The sultry way you say his street name makes him hold your legs against him tighter.

And he pushes himself into you as deep as he can possibly go and out just as fast, hitting your cervix and creating a pleasurable pain that you’ve not experienced before. His hips like a piston, drilling you into his bed so much so that you’re sure there’ll be a indentation when he is done with you.

“Oh. shiiii, mhm.” You moan out, gripping the sheet on the sides of you, biting down on your lip to suppress the moan that is threatening to escape. His low moans isn’t helping you either, you can’t hold it in.

This only makes Oscar grin when you moan out loud and he loves it. “Hm, louder, bebecita. Let them hear how good Spooky fucks you.”

His voice when pleasuring you is an entirely different thing, it added to the already overload of goodness you are receiving from him. Oscar, or Spooky you should say, pushes your legs apart so that he can climb on top of you, him still inside you as you scoot closer to the headboard. Once your head is on the pillows, you rest your legs wider to give him the adequate space he’ll need for a good pounding.

Once his hands grip the headboard, it is game over for you. He is angling his hips to hit spots you never knew you had, deep and slow for one moment and then at speed lighting the next. With the different speeds it leads you feeling the building sensation. It saddened you that you are reaching your peak so quick.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” You tell him and he releases the headboard, sliding his hands underneath you, gripping the flesh of your ass. It confuses you for moment, as he snuggles his face into your neck. But when he begins to drill you into oblivion, you gasp loudly. His low grunts into your ear, his hot breath harshly hitting the side of your neck.

Skin slapping and animalistic groans. Oscar can feel how close you are, your walls squeezing him like a vice, “Fuck, cum. I’m about to.” He mumbles.

As if his wish is your body’s command, the feeling hits you harshly. You clench onto him, your arms hooking under his and nails digging into his back, “Oh! oh! Yes, fuck yes!” The orgasm hits you harder than you expect.

Oscar groans once more before pushing himself up and grabbing himself, pumping his length only for a short moment when his seed spurts onto your slick with sweat torso. His eyes close and head tipped back, “Fuck.”

Still lost in a haze you release a deep breath, maneuvering yourself to get a taste of him. From the source. You take his entire length in his mouth, the after sex sensitivity hitting him, he flinches but watches you swallow him whole.

“Hm, I gotta get you to cum in my mouth next time, hm?” You sit up on your knees and he backs off the bed, handing you a towel to wipe yourself clean, he only laughs.

“Nena, who says we’re done here?”

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter one - Big Sky

Also on Ao3

Billy doesn’t give a fuck about the rodeo. 

He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders. 

What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today. 

Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast. 

“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”

It was in town for four more weeks. 

And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo. 

He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds. 

Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo. 

But not for Max. 

For himself. 

And a pretty horse rider named Steve.

He didn’t see Steve that first day. 

Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull. 

But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home. 

So they did. 

And they watched the rodeo queens. 

And the team-roping. 

But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink. 

Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena. 

His name was loudly announced after the event name. 

Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!

Billy had tuned out everything but his name. 

Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. 

Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle. 

And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown. 

He was off like a fucking shot. 

Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it. 

June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle. 

And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt. 

And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen. 

This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow. 

He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature. 

And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this. 

That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June. 

It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds. 

The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently. 

He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line. 

Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd. 

And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination. 

Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there. 

But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction. 

There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track. 

But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June. 

The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro. 

“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her. 

“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”

“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve. 

Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face. 

“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week. 

He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet. 

Max huffed at him. 

“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”

“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”

“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”

“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”

“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”

“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit. 

“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”

“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”

She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .” 

Billy clenched his jaw. 

“Was not .”

“Was too .” 

And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago. 

For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being. 

“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”

“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”

“I’m right, though.”

Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him. 

Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music. 

He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway. 

And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster. 

And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business. 

And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo. 

They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin. 

Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half. 

And it was kinda fun. 

He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.

Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day. 

“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.” 

“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”

“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”

“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo. 

“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”

“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red. 

Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today. 

And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him. 

And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max. 

Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living. 

And God save Billy, because hot damn. 

Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips. 

“Hey there.”

“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up. 

He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush. 

But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily. 

He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair. 

He smiled at Billy. 

“I’m Steve.”

“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again. 

“And what’d you think?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big. 

“And what about you, uh-”

“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”

“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”

“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”

“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair. 

And then he doubled back. 

“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets. 

Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy. 

And then Steve brought out two white wristbands. 

“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”

Hoo boy. 

This little cowboy has some fucking charm. 

And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist. 

He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool. 

And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year. 

“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”

And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds. 

“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”

“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed. 

He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit. 

Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant. 

Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway? 

Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat. 

Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable. 

Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting. 

But not too drunk to miss calf roping. 

And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek. 

So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today. 

It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again. 

But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction. 

And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home. 

“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy. 

Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie. 

Billy had never liked westerns. 

But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on. 

Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again. 

“You don’t have to live with him.”

“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.” 

And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day. 

Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall. 

Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works. 

But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?

“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”

“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”

And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub. 

“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”

“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”

And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen. 

And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?

And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-

“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.” 

And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve. 

But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was. 

But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross. 

So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit. 

“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”

And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs. 

“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare. 

“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.” 

Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster. 

“The fuck you mean?”

“You were so obvious.”

“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot. 

“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”

And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl. 

He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it. 

They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them. 

And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there. 

“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”

“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.” 

And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something. 

But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint. 

[tangtownie]

Ranny Daddy - Reader Insert x Ransom Drysdale (College AU)

Author’s Note: Okay, so this was supposed to be a quick re-write of an old story of mine but it kinda got away from me. This was originally about John Murphy from The 100, so if any of you want to thirst over him with me, drop into my inbox! ❤️

Anyway, College AU because the potential is just too damn great. An enemies to lovers kinda vibe, although they’re just FWB.

Also, the song inspo was one of my best friends that read this, and then told me that she’d found the perfect track to match it. So I listened to it, and agreed, and also realized that this story was really supposed to be about Ransom all along. So thank you, my darling! ❤️

About the title, I just… I don’t know. Before I started the re-write I had to name the document something, and when I was done, I kinda loved the title.

As always, dividers by the brilliant @firefly-graphics​ 

Warnings: So… A lot of fucking cursing, smut, smut and smut, both reader and Ransom are kinda toxic bitches that are only soft for each other, kinda dub-con as reader is drunk when they get nasty, but she initiates it, Daddy kink, possessiveness and jealousy, unprotected sex. Ransom kinda switches between Dom!Daddy mode and soft!Daddy mode.

Song Inspiration: Violent Minds by VUKOVI 

Word count: 4.283 

The sound of his laugh was all it took. My stomach flipped and I could barely keep from jumping his bones right then and there. He had this douchy laugh, and it was just one of the things that I hated about him. He was crude, disrespectful and completely manipulative. He would always treat me like a plaything; grabbing my ass whenever he wanted, calling me every single pet name he could think of and of course, threatening to beat up any guy that got too close. It was honestly just so offensive and belittling and so damn sexy.

The scowl that always rested on his face, his rough hands that were always toying with me. God, how could someone so stupid be so damn intoxicating? I was not even sure how it all started, just that ever since I first slept with him, my body had been craving his like he was a damn drug. We had absolutely nothing in common and my friends all hated him, just as his friends all hated me. Another loud and obnoxious laugh drew my attention back to his group and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at those idiots. Ransom actually had quite the following and of course, they were all morons.

“Ugh, could you imagine actually dating one of those guys?” My friend Katy’s voice was the first thing in a while to pull my attention from Ransom. I was pretty jealous of that skank sitting in his lap and flipping her hair around like it was nobody’s business, not that I would ever tell him or anyone that. “Ugh, tell me about it.” I decided to turn my back on the scene, knowing that if I did not I would keep staring at them and probably see something that I did not want to see. Katy quickly sat down next to me and started going on about some rapport that was due in a few weeks. It was a typical day for us, meeting in the cafeteria for coffee and gossip in between lectures.

I leaned my back against the table and tried not to cringe at the excited squeal coming from the girl in Ransom’s lap. “God, what about having some self respect?” Katy questioned and I shot her a confused look. “That girl in Drysdale’s lap? I mean it’s not like there aren’t any chairs available. And those constant hair flips? Like “Oh my god, my hair is so fake but if I just keep flipping it around, maybe no one will know.”” I could not help the loud laugh falling from my lips as Katy finished talking.

She laughed happily with me and I pretended not to notice Ransom staring daggers at me, as him and his little posy had clearly heard everything Katy said. “Fucking sorority girls.” I was still laughing, a little louder than usual just to make sure Ransom heard. “Anyway, babe, I have to get to class. But swing by my place later, alright?” I quickly gathered my things, before pecking Katy’s cheek. “Of course! Bye babe.” She gave my ass a little slap as I walked away and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips, already feeling my mood improving.

Finally making my way across campus, I slipped into my usual spot next to Eric just before class started. I pulled out my books and laptop. “I swear to god this class is going to be the end of me!” Eric sighed dramatically. “Hon, you say that about all of them.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the offended face he shot me. “I’m serious. College is just too damn hard.” I huffed slightly as I nodded in agreement.

“You got that right.” College was hard, but I had also never felt as at home as I did here. I had my own little apartment just off of campus and it was a crapbox, but it was my crapbox. I had made some great new friends that were just as sarcastic and bitchy as me. And I was finally studying psychology. I did not really know what I wanted to use it for, but I also did not care. As cliché as it sounded, I was having the time of my life.

As per usual, Eric and I were the last to leave class, taking much too long to pack up our things and laughing as we did. Making our way back to the main building, my phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket to check it. As I saw whom the text was from and what it said, my breath hitched in my throat.

RD: “Your tits look great in that top 😜”

My eyes quickly scanned the vicinity, searching for him. Before I found him, my phone buzzed again.

RD: “Why are you wasting your time on that loser when you know how good I make you feel?”

I did not realise that I had stopped walking until Eric’s hand was on my arm. “Hon, are you okay?” His warm green eyes peered into mine curiously. “Yeah.” I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head trying to rid it off the flashes of my latest adventure with Ransom. “Yeah, I’m great. I just thought I dropped something.” I could not tell if he really believed me or not, so instead I started talking again.

“Anyway, Katy’s coming over, so I should run. But I’ll see you soon, okay?” He nodded quickly and waved at me as I started walking backwards, away from him. Once he started walking as well, I turned around to see where I was going and almost immediately crashed into someone. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. I dropped to the ground to help pick up the things that I had so rudely pushed from their arms.

“Well, how could I complain when you just dropped to your knees in front of me?” Ransom’s smug voice made the hairs on my arm stand up and I slowly got back up. “Hmm… Well, don’t get used to it, baby.” I smirked at him before offering his notes back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with someone I actually want to see.” As I pushed past Ransom and his friends, a quiet gasp went through the group and I knew I would pay for that one soon enough.

When I made it home, I was greeted by what looked like a bomb crater and I was reminded of my stressful morning and the fact that I needed some new batteries for my alarm. I went into my bedroom to put my bag down and change into something comfier. I reached for my black cotton pencil skirt and tossed my jeans over the chair. I decided to take my top off as well, wearing only the skirt and my cropped flannel.

Katy was supposed to be here soon, so I ducked back out to living room and started cleaning up. I had managed to get the worst of it, just as there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” Katy quickly poked her head through the door opening, a smile covering her entire face. “Ugh, babe, you will not believe what happened today!” I could not help but mirror her smile as I looked at her. “Why? What happened?”

She put her bag down next to the door before riding herself of her coat and shoes. “I got the job!” She squealed and started jumping up and down. “What? Oh my god! That is amazing!” I squealed right back at her and ran towards her to jump around with her. “I know! They called me just as I was getting out of Brit Lit. Oh, I just can not believe that I will be working at a real publishing house!” Her squealing was reaching dangerous heights and I almost could not make out what she said, but that did not stop me from continuing to jump around squealing with her.

After hours of dishing, drinking and celebrating, Katy finally had to go home. Pouting, I followed her out to the front door, watching her quietly as she put her coat and shoes on. “Text me, when you’re home safe, okay?” I asked. She shot me a quick smile. “Of course, babe. I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then made her way out the door. I wandered back into the living room again and started cleaning up, again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Confused I made my way back to the door. “Babe? Did you forget something?” I asked, pulling the door open. The face that greeted me however was not Katy’s.

“Hugh?” The surprise was as evident in my voice as it probably was on my face. He was leaning against the doorframe smirking down at me. “God, I thought she would never leave.” He practically growled as he pushed his way past me. “No, please. Come on in.” The sarcasm was dripping from my voice, as I closed the door after him. When I came back into the living room, he was smirking again. “Looks like you girls had fun.” He looked sceptically at the empty bottles of wine and then back to me.

He smiled slightly as he noticed, that I was swaying a little. “Yeah, well, we did. Why are you here, Hugh?” I said, stumbling a little as I reached for my wine glass. “Oh no, I think you’ve had plenty.” Ransom quickly snatched it from my hand before I could empty it. I pouted again, trying to take it back from him. In my drunken struggle for my own damn drink, I did not even notice the breath hitching in Ransom’s throat as the buttons of my flannel had come undone and my chest pressed against his or the way he tensed slightly, as I whined in his ear, before giving up and resting my head on his shoulder.

“You smelly really good.” I mumbled as I nuzzled my face in his shoulder, slowly wrapping my arms around him. He laughed quietly before resting a hand on my lower back. “You’re so drunk.” His tone was almost gentle. A giddy smile broke out on my lips, as I looked back up at him. “You’re being nice to me.” I said quietly before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, your douchy holier-than-thou attitude is sexy as hell, but I don’t think you have ever been nice to me before.” His eyes sparkled at me and that signature smirk crept over his lips again.

“Sexy as hell, huh? And here I was starting to think that you were getting tired of me.” Shocked, I quickly shook my head no but had to stop as I stumbled slightly again. Ransom’s arms locked around me and held me tight against his chest. “I could never get sick of you, Hugh. I mean, you’re not a very nice person and I don’t actually think we have anything in common, but fuck… I cannot get you of my mind and I am not even sure why. It can’t just be the sex, even though the sex is pretty damn great.”

I let my head fall onto his chest again and sighed deeply. “Stay with me.” His hands squeezed my hips in response. “Sure, babygirl. I’ll stay.” A shiver made it’s way down my spine at the pet name. “Fuck, I love that.” I mumbled before pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Ransom’s grip on my hips tightened and I lingered there for a while, loving the feeling of his hands on my hips and the warm feeling of his skin against mine. Slowly pulling away for air, I took his hand in mine and lead him to my bedroom.

As we reached my bedroom Ransom’s hand fell from mine. I wandered over to the chair and softly tugged my skirt off, before turning to face him. “What are you waiting for? Strip.” My words seemed to pull him from his thoughts as his eyes went from scanning me all over to looking straight in my eyes. “What?” He sounded like he was choking on the word. I walked over to him, closing the distance between us again. My hands quickly grabbed the edge of his shirt and started pushing it up his chest.

“Strip.” I raked my nails carefully over his nipples and a light moan escaped his lips, before he helped me pull his shirt all the way off. Our eyes met again and for a few seconds we just stared at each other. He gently reached out and started unbuttoning the few remaining buttons on my flannel. As he did the last one, his hand moved up to my shoulder and slowly pulled it off. I let my fingers wonder about his chest again, tracing invisible patterns.

An impatient huff left his lips before he roughly grabbed my neck and crashed his lips onto mine. Almost instantly, I kissed him back. I let my arms settle around his neck and pulled myself even closer to him. Our teeth clanged together, as he greedily tried to swallow every breath of mine. His other arm snaked around my waist as he started guiding me back to my bed. Suddenly, he shoved me onto the bed and he smiled as my boobs bounced from the contact with the bed. I let myself get comfortable, knowing that Ransom liked to watch me. I let one hand twirl around some hair while the other rested comfortably on my bare stomach. My eyes locked with his again, as I patiently waited for him to join me.

Too much time had passed and I was starting to get cold and frankly also a little annoyed with him. “Come on, Hugh, just-“ His sharp voice interrupted me. “No.” There was a playful light behind his glaring eyes. “No?” I questioned, as I sat up. “Exactly, babygirl, you know that’s not my name.” A shiver travelled down my spine again at the pet name and Ransom noticed it, smirking from ear to ear. “What are you talking about, Hugh? Of course, that’s your name.” He shook his head, still glaring at me, before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“You know it’s not. And if you keep calling me that I might just have to punish you, babygirl.” My breath hitched in my throat as his scent took over my senses. He was so close; he smelled divine and damn it, if I hadn’t been thinking about this all day. I had to close my eyes to keep from pouncing on him. As everything I had been fantasising about all day started flooding through my mind, I remembered the last time Ransom and I had been here and a smile curled around my lips, before I opened my eyes and spoke.

“Oh, so Daddy wants to play, huh?” My tone was low and breathy. A strangled gasp escaped his lips at the pet name. “It must be my lucky day then, because I’ve just spend all damn day thinking about Daddy’s rough hands pinning me down while his big beautiful cock pounds into me.” I barely got the last word out before Ransom was all over me, pinning me to the bed with a ravenous growl. His entire body pressing against mine, as he kissed me like it might be the last thing he ever did.

My hands quickly tangled themselves in his hair and I arched my hips up to meet his. Ransom‘s teeth sank into my bottom lip and he tugged harshly on it. I couldn’t help the loud moan falling from my lips or my hands tugging harshly on his hair. His hands roughly grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he pushed me upwards. A whimper escaped my lips when I couldn’t reach his any longer and I could feel him smirk against my throat. He slowly made his way down my body, sucking and licking all over, leaving a trail of hickeys over my neck, chest and stomach.

He stopped just as he reached my thong and I almost could not bear to look at him; so sinfully gorgeous, his hair falling into his beautiful blue eyes and his thin pretty lips already swollen and red. One of his hands moved to my thong, hooking his fingers inside of it and slowly pulling it down. I squirmed impatiently and he laughed at me. He casually flung it over his shoulder, before suddenly plunging two of his fingers deep inside of me.

I gasped loudly, surprised by his rough actions and clenched around his fingers. My eyes fell shut as he build up a steady rhythm and I relaxed again, relishing in having him so close to me. “No, no, babygirl, got to keep your eyes on me.” A strangled moan escaped my lips, as I struggled to focus on him. Our eyes locked and I watched him closely, as his gaze never fell from my face despite his fingers being buried knuckles deep inside of me and him placing shallow kisses on my lower stomach. He smirked at me again. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? So eager to please Daddy.”

His deep voice rumbled against my skin and my hands forcefully grabbed the sheets to keep from pulling on his hair. “Look, how responsive you are, babygirl. You fucking love this, don’t you?” He curled his fingers inside of me and I panted loudly as he brushed against my g-spot. I could feel the pleasure building and knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. As Ransom mercilessly poked at my most sensitive spot, I could not help but lift my hips up, trying desperately to create some friction. He chuckled deeply before pinning my hips to the mattress. “Easy, babygirl. We’re almost there. Just relax.” His hand slowly crept across my stomach, until it reached my waist. Before I registered what had happened, Ransom had pulled his fingers from me and quickly turned me, so that I was on my stomach.

Surprised and confused, I let out a huff of air. “Hugh, what the-“ A high-pitched moan interrupted my sentence as he smacked my ass. I panted harshly, both from surprise and pleasure. At first it stung, but I couldn’t even pretend not to like it. His hands settled on my hips again, before he pulled me to him. My ass was flush against the front of his jeans as I was supporting my weight on my arms. “I told you, that’s not my name.” His deep voice made the goose bumps rise on my skin and a low moan escaped my lips.

He was so damn hot like this, all rough and angry and dominating. “You better play nice, if you don’t want me to stop.”  He hummed slowly as his hand caressed the spot that he had just slapped and I grinded my ass against him.  His erection was pressing tightly against me and all I could think of was having him inside of me again. “Daddy, please.” I impatiently begged for him and relished in the moan he tried to suppress. Another slap was delivered to my ass and this time I did nothing to hide how much I loved it.

A pornstar-like moan fell from my lips as I threw my head back and grinded against him again. His hands fell from me but before I could complain, I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped and seconds later they were thrown to the floor next to my bed along with his boxers. Ransom roughly slid his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and I arched my back at his touch. A sinful slurping sound filled the room as Ransom sucked my wetness from his fingers. “You taste so damn good, babygirl.” He hummed softly, as I moaned back, loving his filthy words.

His hands wrapped around my hips again and he pulled me harshly against him. His hard dick was rubbing all over me and I was loosing my damn mind from all of his teasing. I opened my mouth, completely ready and willing to beg for him again, just before he slid into me. A high-pitched whimper fell from my lips as he bottomed out and I relished in the feeling of being full of him.

Too quickly he pulled out, before slamming back into me. “Fuck.” Ransom grunted from behind me, building a fast and hard rhythm. His fingers were digging into my hips, trying to pull me as close as physically possible. I arched my back up and was met with his warm chest against my back. His hot, laboured breath was falling down my neck and only drove me closer to the edge. One of my hands tangled themselves in his hair and the other desperately grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin.

“You take me so well, babygirl. Letting my cock pound into you while you moan like a damn pornstar. You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Ransom’s voice was raspy against my neck and I almost lost my mind, when he intertwined our fingers and wrapped our arms around my waist. My legs started to shake beneath me and I let my head fall on his shoulder as he continued pounding into me. I moaned loudly as he pressed against my g-spot. “Just like that, baby. Take it. You’re mine.” Ransom practically growled in my ear, as he sped up.

He led me back down on the bed, pressing his lips to my neck and shoulders. His hand resting next to my head as he continued fucking me from behind. His other arm was still wrapped together with mine and around my waist, lifting my ass up slightly to meet him. Every time he thrusted into me, I moaned loudly, trying desperately not to fall over the edge just yet. My walls clenched around him and all I could see, hear or feel was Ransom.

“Mine.” He grunted harshly. “All mine.” My hand desperately reached for something to grab, but only found my sheets. “Yours.” I was surprised by my own voice, but it was like I had lost all control of it. “I’m yours, Ransom, any time, any day. All yours.” His head rested in the crook of my neck and he slowed down his thrusts. Slowly dragging himself out, before slowly pushing himself back in but never missing my most sensitive spot. “Ranny, Daddy, please. Please let me come.”

The desperate plea also left my lips without me controlling it. His hand flew to my clit and rubbed fast circles on it. A loud moan fell from my lips and my knuckles were turning white from grasping at the sheets. “Just let go, babygirl. I’ve got you.” I could feel the vibrations of Ransom’s voice through his chest and with a loud whine I finally let go. My eyes rolled back into my head as I clenched and unclenched repeatedly around him. My arms gave in and my pillow muffled the moans and profanities mixed in with his name.

He continued thrusting into me, riding out my high until he stilled. He was deep inside of me as I felt him release inside me. His loud groaning of my name, eliciting even more clenching on my behalf while his hips continued grinding into mine. My loud whimper mixed in with his panting as he slowly pulled out of me. He collapsed beside me on the bed and suddenly grabbed my face, slamming his lips back onto mine. His tongue eagerly met mine and I hurriedly wrapped my legs around his hips, trapping him there.

As I broke away for air, Ransom kissed his way down my neck and I could not stop the question falling from my lips. “Did you mean what you said?” He hummed softly against my neck, before biting down on one of the hickeys he had left there earlier. “Well,” he said as he broke away from my neck to look me in the eyes. “The sex is pretty damn great and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.” He brushed a few wayward strands of my hair away gently. “Not even when you’re completely ignoring me or making fun of my friends or pretending that you aren’t jealous of the girl sitting in my lap.”

A blush quickly spread across my cheeks at his last comment. “I didn’t think you noticed.” I said while running my fingers over his chest. “Oh, baby, I always notice you. Besides, it’s not like you could hide anything from me any more. I know all your tells.” His signature smirk was plastered on his lips again. “So the skank from today?” I couldn’t help but ask. A small laugh left Ransom’s lips. “Was just a skank that means nothing to me, yeah. Now, what about that boy-toy of yours?” Ransom narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “My boy-toy is named Eric and is actually gay.” I said and smirked at him.

“What?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “Yeah. I actually think that you know his boyfriend Liam. Apparently, he’s in a lot of your classes.” I shrugged as I finished talking. Ransom wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “Jesus, how the hell did I not know that? I’m a damn idiot.” I rested my head on his chest, before speaking. “Yeah, but I guess you’re my idiot now.”