#i was sitting so far back how was this possible

[robo-writing]

How different Logan’s would eat you out <3

X1, X2, and X3

✦A mix between ravenous and romantic. He wants you to know just how much you’re loved, and he expresses that by how long he can eat your pussy without stopping. savoring each and every movement from you, he actually enjoys when you lose control and tighten your legs around his head, moaning something along the lines of you’ll be the death of me as he laps at your cunt.

Your thighs quake around his head, hands in his hair as you look down at him. He’s having the time of his life, licking at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll do in this life, pulling you down and forcing you to sit right on his face.

“Don’t need air, stay,” he mumbles, eyes looking up at you. “Just stay here for me sweetheart.”

You want to protest but goddamn does he make it hard for you, especially when his hands grip the fat of your ass and grind you onto his lips. Higher and higher, you feel your orgasm taking hold with each movement.

“Logan, gonna come,” you whine, and he pushes you as far down as you can go.

“Come on my face doll,” he groans, tonguing at your shaking entrance. “Get my face nice and wet, yeah?”

Origins Wolverine

✦Lovey dovey sickeningly sweet romantic sex; down for anything as long as you’re involved. Sit on his face? Gladly. Pull your legs over his shoulders? Just say when. The kind of lover whose heart skips a beat every time he sees you naked like it's the first time, despite the fact that you're married with a house. Speaks to your pussy as if it’s separate from you.

“How’s my girl doing? Doing alright?”

Your answer is a moan, your pussy clenching around nothing. Logan smiles at your response, thumb stroking up to press against your sensitive clit.

“Yeah, doing just fine ain’t you?” He breathes, kissing the hardened nub before returning to suck on it, your legs shaking in response. “And my other girl’s nice and ready ain’t she?”

“Baby,” you whine, desperate to cum. He’s edged you for as long as possible and you’re almost certain if you wait any longer you’ll actually die. Thankfully Logan grants you mercy, tightening his hold on your thighs as he focuses all his effort into making your pussy leak on his face.

“Come for me sweetheart,” he groans, and you do. Fingers digging into the sheets, you feel your orgasm take hold as Logan wrings every ounce of pleasure he can, kissing at your thighs when your overstimulated pussy can’t take any more.

You barely catch your breath before he speaks to your cunt, admiring how your come trails down your thighs.

“There she is,” he chuckles, index finger slowly collecting the remains of your juices, admiring how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. “Nice and satisfied, ain’t she?”

DOFP Logan

✦Second biggest munch. Running from danger constantly doesn’t make a lot of time for sex so whenever he finds the rare opportunity to do so best believe he’s jumping at it. Likes to joke that he’s started to go grey because he can’t fuck you as often as he likes. Truly eats you out like he needs your pussy more than he needs air.

“Need to be quiet baby,” he growls, pinning your thrashing hips against the wall. “You’re going to get us caught.”

It’s one of the rare days when you’ve found a safe house, even rarer that it’s just you and Logan alone for once. One look at his face and you already knew what was running through that adamantium skull of his, dragging you away to the nearest closet where you’ve been for god knows how long—the concept of time always seems to leave you wherever Logan’s talented mouth is involved.

You’re biting at your hand to muffle your moans but it’s still not enough, free hand tangled in his graying strands as an anchor. You can see his eyes roll back at the feeling, sloppily kissing up your pussy.

“God I wanna hear you,” he moans. “I’d give anything to fuckin’ hear you baby, but you’ve gotta behave for me. Don’t want anyone else seein’ this.”

The scene is something straight out of a porno—your legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats your cunt feverishly, the filthy sounds he makes with each movement, your hips desperately chasing his mouth—you wish this could never end.

70s Logan

✦By far the most selfish, he eats you out for his pleasure alone. He doesn’t give a damn if you’re crawling away, he will pull you back and lock his lips around your clit until you’re damn near thrashing in his arms, grinding against the mattress because that's just how hard he is. He won’t apologize for making you pass out, nor will he stay the night, but if he likes you enough you might find a card on your nightstand with his number hastily scribbled onto it.

When you decided to bring tall, dark, and grumpy home you didn’t expect it to end with tears running down your face, practically begging for a reprieve that won’t come. His hands lock together, forcing you still as he eats you out, not giving a damn about how pathetic you sound.

“Quit fuckin’ squirming,” he grunts, nosing at your pussy. “Lemme enjoy this.”

The man is talented, that’s a fact. Knows just how to push your buttons in all the right ways, but the problem is that he’s pushed your buttons nearly three times already and you’re almost certain his beard is going to give you the worst rash you’ve ever had.

But damn it if he isn’t responsible for some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

“Logan, fuck—lemme take a break,” you’re begging at this point, slapping at his shoulders when he doesn’t let up. Your breath catches in your chest when he smacks your thigh roughly in response, smiling against your pussy when he feels you clench in response.

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying yourself,” he mocks, showing just how true his words ring when his fingers rub circles against your clit.

You swear you can feel any coherent thoughts leak out of your ears, focused solely on coming. It’s embarrassing how well he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re squirting a mess onto your mattress.

“There we go, ain’t that a sight?” He laughs, pulling you closer towards his face. “Now, be a good little slut and behave while I enjoy my meal, okay?”

Old Man Logan

✦#1 munch and it’s not even close. When his job leaves him tired and his body is sore he finds comfort between your legs, it’s the only time he can turn his brain off and drown himself in you. He’s so fucking starved that he’ll genuinely get lost in his own headspace and ignore your thrashing and whining just to wring another orgasm from your tired body. Kisses your labia and mutters how she's such a pretty pussy as you're trying to catch your breath.

Logan didn't even bother to shed his clothes, making a beeline directly to you the moment he stepped inside your shared home. Dirt still settled on his skin, his head nestled into the crook of your neck as your bodies sway within the closed off kitchen. "Missed me, huh?" you ask, his sigh answer plenty. "Always miss you princess," he whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts you up with warning, sitting you down on the countertop, kneeling between your dangling legs. His beard tickles your bare skin, pulling you close enough to place a kiss onto your pussy, right over the fabric of your panties. "Fuck," you sigh. "You really missed me." His smile is infectious, nuzzling against your fabric-covered core. He kisses you through it for a while before peeling off the moistened garment, thumbs reaching to stroke your pussy. The sight makes your skin hot, hands tangled in his hair. "Been waiting all fuckin' day for this," he moans, spreading you apart and indulging in your juices. "Can tell you were waiting for me too." You feel your body melt with every touch, Logan's hands an anchor as he makes out with your heat, nose bumping against your clit with each movement.

Worst Logan

✦Still trying to wrap his head around you wanting to be with him, but goddamn if he isn’t grateful. Reverent, like a sinner at an alter. Your word is law, likes it when you pull him by the hair and show him where you need it, loves it when you tell him how good he’s doing, presses himself further into your pussy when you’re ready to come. It's all about you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lovingly stroke his hair, back arching when he kisses your clit oh so gently.

“Lemme take a look at you,” you ask, and the sight of him is enough to make you come.

Face red, blushing so hard it reaches his chest, eyes so glazed over with lust his pupils leave nothing but small rings of green in his eyes. You cradle his face and the weight of his head falls into them immediately, chasing your touch.

“Gonna make me feel good, aren’t you?” You ask, and he nods his head, kissing your palm.

“Lemme taste you baby,” he whispers. “Swear to god I’ll make you feel good.”

“Never doubted you for a second Logan,” you whisper back, tugging his head back to your soaked cunt. He breathes in your scent, fucking groans at the sight of your pussy before he descends on it, noisily showing you just how much he meant his words.

“Fuckin’ delicious baby, so fuckin’ wet,” he moans. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He only gets louder when you pull him forward by the hair, rough hands leaving a mark where his fingers grip your skin.

[heegyukeluv]

the devil wears prada (sjy)

pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.

my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)

warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 5.4k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.

You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.

Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.

It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.

Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?

You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.

As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.

You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.

Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 

It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.

After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.

Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.

You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.

Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.

Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.

You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.

He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 

You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.

The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.

With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.

The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.

As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.

You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”

Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.

“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 

As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”

“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.

His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.

The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.

“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.

Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.

Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.

Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 

Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.

There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”

Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.

And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 

“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.

Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.

“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”

It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 

Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.

Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.

As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.

You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.

Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.

His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  

After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.

You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.

Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 

You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 

Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.

Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.

The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 

Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.

A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.

You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”

You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 

The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 

Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.

“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.

“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 

“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  

“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 

Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 

“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.

A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 

Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 

Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 

There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.

His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 

“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”

Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.

You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.

Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 

“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 

Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.

“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”

Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.

You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 

He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.

Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.

His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.

Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.

He was on cloud nine. 

Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 

Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.

Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.

“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.

The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”

Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.

Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 

You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.

"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."

Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.

You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.

“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.

Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 

Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 

With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.

Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.

There’s no way he…

"Shit, I didn't bring–"

You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.

"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 

Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.

"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 

"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 

Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 

His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.

You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.

“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”

“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.

And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 

Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.

"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”

You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.

Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.

Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.

He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.

"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."

Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 

“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.

Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.

You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.

“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”

You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.

When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.

“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.

A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.

The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.

At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 

“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.

Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 

Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 

Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.

You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.

You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.

Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.

“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.

So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 

You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 

“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 

You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 

With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.

[heartfullofleeches]

"Yo, V- Think we're out of ice."

"Check that deep freezer my parents sent, I just kinda throw shit in there sometimes so......"

Eyes glued to their computer monitor, the brief flash of your reflection in the screen paused V in his tracks. Taking a painfully slow amount of time to remove his headphones, your partner turns in his chair to face you with that same unhurried pace in tow.

"Are you wearing my fucking underwear?"

Sipping from your glass of room temperature juice, you sluggishly hook the elastic band of the boxers higher up your waist - swallowing as you mutter a quiet- "Yeah, so? You haven't let me leave to get more clothes and I had to put on something while the ones I had on are in the wash. Good thing I had this shirt in my bag. You steal my clothes all the time anyway so you probably put wear them while I'm out too."

V stares at you with eyes you could only describe as a starving carnivore having found its dinner.

"You do wear the clothes I leave over here... Right?"

V blinks - the train of depravity chugging through his mind broken by the sound of your voice. Body facing the computer once more, the image of your bare thighs draws him back like a siren's call- V shakes his head as he pulls away from the sight, dropping their voice down to a whisper as they pick up their headphones.

"I gotta go. I don't give a damn about how important this match is to you- Until your partner is standing half naked in your doorway don't fucking talk to me about what's important."

Stirring your straw around your cup, the rustling of fabric goes unnoted as an idea crosses your mind. "We have some strawberries in the fridge... Should throw those in the freezer for an hour if I can't find the ice."

"Here."

Looking up, a topless V extends their fist tightly balled around the collar of his crumpled tee shirt. He pats his lap, scooting as far back in their chair as physical possible to make room.

"What's that for?"

"Either you put my shirt and sit in my lap or you take my boxers off and wait for your clothes to dry."

[xazse]

hiii pookie I LOVED your hybrid post like it got me foaming from the mouth ngl 🫶 you're so talented!!

If you're into it, can we get cowhybrid! reader and Farmer!Gojo specifically please and thank you? I need to see the reader all needy and desperate and Gojo being the only one who can truly give her release and and what she truly needs (feel free to remix or add anyone/anything that you please)

If you're not into it, please ignore this ask instead of refusing because I get embarrassed hihi🎀🫶 anyways mwah mwah love u take care pookie

ANOTHER TRY?

Notes: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED MY WORK!!! and to the second ask I’m very happy you requested that bull!hybrid work lLOVEDDD WORKING ON IT!! You guys are so creative I need to eat ur brain!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR A PT2 I SEE YOU GUYS!!! (IF UR READING THIS TO MY OTHER INBOX OFC YOU CAN BE 🪬 ANON!!)

Pairings: CowHybrid!Reader x Farmer!Gojo

Warnings: Lactation + big!boobedReader + implied chubby!reader + nipplesucking + grinding + mean!Satoru + pussy!slapping + teasing.

Gojo has spoiled you for far too long it makes his blood boil and temples wrinkle when you continue to go see Toji and Suguru, it becomes a habit for you to come back in the early mornings after having a night of “fun.”

Confronting said men proved to be so fucking useless, they just laughed in his face when he said he’d kick both of them to the curb should they continue to corrupt you.

“You need us Satoru, why are you allowed to have your nightly routines but she cant? It was gonna happen eventually.” Tojis face was decorated with a fat sneer, all those times he tried to make sure you stayed as far as possible were all for naught, it’s hilarious seeing him seething behind a cool facade.

“Never knew what Toji seen in the woman but now I completely understand his point.” Suguru yelled from where he was transporting some wood.

Talking to them proved to be useless, as a little payback he made them clean the shed from top to bottom.

Trudging back to the main house in his thick boots Satoru comes to face you relaxing on the couch without a damn care in the world.

Why is he trying to get them to be on his level when he should be punishing you, you’re the one who didn’t listen, you’re the one sneaking out every night. He doesn’t know why he feels this hold on you, you’re such a beautiful girl that he can’t help but keep you in this small bubble.

When your eyes land on him you don’t say any kind of greeting, simply ignoring his presence for the movie on the huge ass tv he bought for you and eating the expensive food he bought for you.

You look extremely good right now, your fat boobs not swollen, but your pretty lips are. Satoru won’t say it but his pants tighten at the thought of what they do to you.

He needs you right now, he’ll make it up to you as much as he can.

He approaches you calmly and collected, sitting down at the edge of the couch where your legs are propped up, you still don’t acknowledge him. His trained hands start circling on your soft supple skin, you surprisingly don’t push him away. You give Satoru an inch he’ll take a mile.

He starts groping your thighs, the pudgy things hold within the creases of his hand. He pushes your thighs apart and gets a good look at your panties: you always choose to walk around the house like this.

They’re extra tight the way they emphasize your fat pussy, the groan that slips from his lips aren’t-something he tries to hold back, he needs you to know how much he wants you, especially wants you all to himself.

The rise and fall of your chest makes you look so cute, why are you so shy all of a sudden? You’re averting your eyes as well.

Satoru starts teasing your clothed folds, dragging his thick finger up and down, he pushes extra hard on your clit eliciting a small moan from you. He continues this for a little, he needs you wet to take him properly.

He peels off your soddened panties and positions himself above you, finally face to face with you. Your boobs are the first thing he attacks, pulling on your shirt and letting them spill out, the little droplets of milk call to him. He’s grabbing one and putting it into his mouth: he loves your taste so sweet like honey as it cascades down his throat so smoothly.

“Nghm… Toru..” finally you’ve decided to grace him with your sultry voice.

He bites down a little on your nipple making you jump away. He reels you right back in and sucks even harsher, there’s barely any milk left but he’s going to make sure he gets his full.

“Toru.” You call his name so panicked and yet you’re grinding against his fully hard cock. He’s so desperate in the moment that he unbuckles his belt and lets his cock bob free.

His fat tip prods agaisnt your folds, messing with your sticky wetness, he smears it on his tip even grinding down on your clit, but he doesn’t put it in, you don’t deserve that.

He teases you, pretending he’s going to give you what you want just to take it all away.

“Please…” a harsh and loud smack is delivered straight to your clit, you yelp and buckle your legs closed.

“Shirt, take your shirt off.” He commands, of course you’re gonna listen, Satoru has never taken that tone with you.

Your boobs now freely spill for him to gaze at. He spreads your legs back open.

“I’m gonna give you ten slaps, close your legs for even one I’m restarting. Understood?” You nod and your ears move along with it. He likes this look on your face: confusion, arousal and a little bit of fear.

On the first slap you make the mistake of shutting your legs closed: completely an accident but he’s having none of it, he hits your little clit again and again.

“Ahn..” you’re still so fucking wet by the sixth slap, creating a nasty mess that drips to your ass. Gojo’s cock is still throbbing, he jerks himself off, smearing his pre all over.

By the tenth slap you’re gone, completely dazed and only able to whine outloud, he decides that you’ve had enough with the tears that sit on your eye line. He pushes your legs back and lines his weeping tip. The feeling of sliding into your sopping wet cunt is better than any pussy he’s ever had.

His strokes against you are fast even though he should be letting you adjust, the sounds of skin against skin meeting each other is downright lewd.

He tells you to rub your nipples, it adds so much more stimulation that you can’t find it in you to hate it.

His cock drags agaisnt your walls over and over, till you can’t feel anything but the sensitivity of your nipples and the twitching of his fat cock.

He fucks you like that all night, even when you’re meant to meet Toji and Suguru, you can’t stop creaming around farmer Gojos length and nor do you want to.

[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[starboye]

starring: rafe cameron x male reader

request: reader finds it hot when rafe wears his cap but is too shy to tell frat boy rafe that but he catches on to it ad wears it while breeding reader. at the end rafe jokes and says he knows his cap makes reader precum

warnings: smut, cursing, drugs, reader taking drugs, breeding kink, rough sex, mentions of drinking

rafe cameron, god damn it, just saying his name gets you going and it doesn't help that he has that backwards cap on making it even harder to stay sane, you watched him from across the room selling to some random people who were desperate for the edge off, you couldn't take your eyes off him though, the way his jaw clenched when someone tried to skimp him on money or the way his hands moved when he counted money.

and it's not like rafe didn't notice the crush you had on him, he always saw the way you looked at him and he loved teasing you about it so that's why he did those little small things like clench his jaw or flex his hands, now he finally wanted to give you what you silently beg for every time you're at one of his parties "hey you" rafe called out to you, snapping your head up from your phone to look at him "me" you question heart beating faster.

"yeah you c'mere" he says waving you over and you timidly make your way to him, standing over him, his legs spread open as he relaxes into the couch "don't be shy sit down" he pats the space next to him and you couldn't possibly deny the man so you sat down next to him still sorta tense "could you be anymore tense" he chuckles taking a swig of his beer before putting it on the coffee table in front of him.

"here i got something that will make you feel good" rafe says leaning forward to grab some of the white substance he was selling earlier, lining some of it on his fingers and bringing it to your lips "oh no i couldn't do that" you nervously say "c'mon it'll make you feel great" he whispers in your ear, shivers running down your spine quickly before you nod at his question "fine" you exhale.

rafe brings his finger closer and slips it into your mouth rubbing the substance across your gums, immediately calming you with a wave of euphoria falling over your body "good boy" rafe smirks bringing you back to your senses, did you just hear what your think you heard, rafe calling you a good boy?! this making your heart beats against the inside of your chest quicker and harder.

"y'know you do a really shitty job at hiding your crush for me" rafe laughs bringing his face closer with yours, his lips almost grazing against yours "wait what if someone sees" you say placing a hand on his chest to stop his movements "everyone here is either drunk or high, they wont give a fuck" he says before bringing you into a kiss, it's like the room was spinning now and you couldn't control yourself.

"please fuck me" you breathlessly say in between the kiss and you don't know why you said it but rafe was ecstatic you did "say less" and next thing you know you're in rafes bed getting fucked like there's no tomorrow, "moaning like a bitch in heat" in the words of rafe and with the help of the drugs in your system you could feel every little thrust even harder now.

it felt like you were seeing stars as rafe grunts in your ear with each thrust, and to add to it rafe didn't take off his cap, leaving it on when he saw how it made you want him more and more, his chain also dangling in your face "damn who woulda thought id e fucking someone like you tonight" he laughed watching you turn away from his gaze "aw c'mon don't do that now" he pouts turning your head to face him again.

he had that stupid smirk on his face, and you looked like at this point you could be on another planet with how far your eyes were rolling back, the wet sound of skin slapping filled the room with your moans and rafes groans, your mind was fuzzy and cloudy from the continuous fucking that you started incoherently babbling some nonsense to rafe.

"p-please" you whined out "tell me what you want" he grunts, hips viciously snapping into your with no end in sight "please breed me, i want your cum so bad" you choke out with little whimpers in between, rafe looks down at you, tilting his head to the side wondering if he really heard your words right, you wanted him to breed you? i mean you don't have to convince him anymore your wish will be his command.

"of course i will" he smirks holding your hips to fuck into you harder, you moan out loudly but luckily it's covered up by the sounds of the blaring music, rafe didn't even know why but for some reason he just leaned down and began making out with you, sloppy wet kisses across your lips and neck, as much as you were infatuated with him, he was slowly starting to grow a liking to you and he didn't know why.

maybe it was the way you moaned his name or the way you sucked him back in every time he tried to pull out or maybe it was both, either way if he was gonna fill you up he was gonna do it his way, hard and fast, vulgar words spilling from his mouth as he thrusts became sloppy and soon cumming in you, pumping drop after drop if cum into your already messy hole.

rafe hid his face in the crook of your neck, to tired to even move and you didn't mind "i can't believe you came from the sight of me wearing a hat" rafe jokes breaking the silence and drawing a laugh from you, this definitely wasn't the end to the night.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[ribread03]

Stream Zs

M.sturniolo

When you visit Matt from Boston and can’t make it through the late night stream…

Warnings: none

MY WORK IS MY IDEAS AND CREATIVITY! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION”

Enjoy💋🫶

It’s currently midnight in California. You’re visiting Matt from Boston so the time difference is throwing you off. You and Matt have been dating for over 2 years now and when him and his brothers decided to move to LA you were devastated but Matt promised that he would fly back to you whenever he could and he would fly you out to him whenever you wanted.

So here you sat next to Matt on stream talking to all of the fans in the chat, Chris and nick are behind the two of you roaming around Matt’s room being nosy. Your occasional yawn slips in here in there as the stream rolls on with what seems like no stop time. You want to be awake while Matt streams to not only be with him, but to meet the newer fans who might not know who you are yet.

“Someone just gifted 25! Who was that?” Matt says loudly causing you to jump awake slightly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row you try to read the name that gifted 25.

“I need my glasses I cant see that far” You say standing up and taking a few steps over to Matt’s nightstand. You grab your glasses and give them a quick wipe with your shirt before throwing them on as you sit back down next to Matt. Your eyes scan the chat looking for 25 gifted. “Gabbi did!” You say excitedly pointing at the monitor.

“YEAH GABBI!” Chris screams from behind you. This causes you to jump slightly, not having expected Chris to scream that loudly. Matt is quick to hold your hand and comfort you. The chat is even quicker to flood with comments about how cute the two of you are.

~~

Nick and Chris both left the room as Matt started to play Hogwarts Legacy, leaving just you two and the 4k people still watching late into the night. It’s currently 2 am LA time and 5am in Boston.

You’re partially asleep on Matt shoulder, your eyes heavy and barely focused on the screen as he picks out his wand. “Ima go lay down” you say through a yawn, picking your head up off of Matt.

“Okay” he say softly watching as you stand up from the chair. “I love you,” Matt whispers while placing his hand over the monitor and giving you a quick kiss. This causes the chat to flood with comments about what you guys just did or didn’t do.

“I love you too,” you return Matt’s kiss. You make your way over to his bed, getting comfortable on your side. You pull your glasses off and grab the stuffed animal, you leave at Matt’s house, to cuddle with. You can hear Matt turn his voice down slightly as he reads some subs and comments out loud.

After a few minutes you hear Matt chair swivel and his voice float through the room, “I did get pretty lucky, didn’t I” He says with a soft smile to the chat while looking back at you. Turning back to the camera, “one more task guys.” He picks his controller back up and selects a short task wanting to get off as soon as possible.

Once Matt completes the task and tells the stream bye and goes offline. He gets up from his chair and makes his way over the empty side of the bed. The mattress dips as he lays down next to you, you groan lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I couldn’t let you be alone for too long” Matt whispers placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You mumble a response back and close your eyes all the way once again. Not to long after Matt is drifting to sleep, nestled close to you.

[felixbit]

i hate to wait so long

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader w. 1.9k genre: fluff summary: your long-distance boyfriend's birthday is coming up but you don't have the funds to visit him this year. surprisingly, seungmin turns up to your door anyways. warnings: reader is a uni student studying abroad a/n: inspired by the lyrics of this song :)

Choosing to study abroad was a good idea in concept. You got to travel and live in another country's culture for a semester as you worked on your degree.

That was, until you got a boyfriend. He lived back at home and you reconnected over old friends when you were first packing to leave. He'd come over to your place and hang out, playing video games and teasing you when you couldn't lift a moving box without help. Not that he could, either.

His name was Seungmin. He asked you out one week before you left for the semester, and it was the best week you'd had in a long time. You spent almost every day together, hanging out and trying new things until you got tired and crashed at each other's places.

When that first week came to a close, you begrudgingly packed up your things. Seungmin drove you to the airport, holding your hand as far into the airport as he could come with you.

It was through a teary-eyed confession from him that revealed he'd never felt closer to someone before than he did with you. He was too scared of saying goodbye and asked to be your boyfriend, even if he was terrified of moving too fast.

When you agreed, he was using his sleeve to rub his eyes and denied ever crying. He told you to have a safe trip and he kissed you for the first time, promising a million more the next time he saw you.

You thought about that moment every day. Sitting at a desk doing work had never felt more dull, especially when you had a perfect boyfriend waiting for you at home. Life abroad wasn't bad, you were loving it, you just missed him more.

Every night, you stayed up to call him and tell him all about your day-to-day. He'd hop on his computer and play video games with you until the sun peeked over the horizon or you resigned to sleep.

When you weren't calling each other, you texted the whole rest of your waking hours. Seungmin would send a plethora of random photos from his day and complain about his band mates while you responded with your own pictures and advice.

It was starting to occur to you how close it was getting to September, which meant Seungmin's birthday was just around the corner. You had already decided on gifts, ready to buy them so they'll be delivered right on time.

But, it dawned on you pretty fast that you didn't have the money to visit. Studying in another country was really expensive and there was only so much time in a day you could work outside of school. Either way, there was no miracle budget to make it possible.

You told him this almost immediately, and he was extremely good about it. He reassured you that it wasn't necessary and he'd make up for all the lost time soon enough when you were done.

The remaining weeks between then had been full of assignments and deadlines coming up, so it snuck up on you. You'd been on a call with Seungmin the night before playing Overwatch when you looked down at the date on your computer.

"What time is it? Lemme- oh, shit." You stopped mid sentence, staring at the date on your computer screen in awe.

Seungmin looked confused, his webcam up on your second screen. "What's wrong? Do I need to back out of the queue?"

"No, no," You shook your head, laughing nervously, "I just saw the date. Your birthday's tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you forgot," Seungmin looked a little dumbfounded.

"I didn't forget, I just.. I've had a lot going on these past few weeks that September kinda went a little too fast."

"It's okay," Seungmin reassured, "I'll forgive you when I get to open the pile of gifts you've been sending me tomorrow morning."

"I wish I could be there to see it," You lamented.

"It's alright. You'll be able to give me them all in person next year, right?"

"Right! Plus, I'll be able to give you Christmas gifts at least."

At that moment, you connected to a game and the topic of conversation switched. The thought of missing his birthday lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away in order to enjoy the night with your boyfriend.

As the night was coming to a close, you made sure to wish him a happy birthday right as the clock rolled over to midnight. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to stay up another three hours, but Seungmin decided to go to bed early and you followed in his footsteps.

Sleeping was nice. It was one of the times you could see Seungmin. He was almost always there waiting for you with a smile on his face. You could do anything together, just in a fantasy land. Maybe he wasn't really there, but it was enough to keep you going.

That night, you laid with him in bed. Your head was on his chest over a soft sweater as he sung to you. It was the first time in a while you'd dreamed of his room, bringing back all of the fond memories from before you'd left. His posters, guitar sat against his record collection, all his bookshelves. His diary was even on the nightstand beside his bed, true to life.

You almost hated waking up. The world was cruel for taking away the perfect dream it had crafted, but you knew soon enough you'd be in his room again.

Seungmin's birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so you didn't worry too much about waking up early. When you did inevitably get up, you made sure to text him a few more 'happy birthday' messages just in case he forgot about it himself. He was already up, thanking you for the birthday wishes and sending you a photo of his outfit.

It wasn't really his style to be awake and ready this early in the day, but it was his birthday. He has to make the most of his special day, you thought. So, you sent back some compliments and hearts and moved on with your own morning routine.

As you normally would, you kept Seungmin updated through texts on your morning. He wasn't super chatty, but it was to be expected with whatever he had planned. You expected to see a wall of text on what he was up to by the end of the day, but for now it was quiet.

By noon, you had gotten a little concerned, but brushed it off. His family likely had things to do with him, right? Plus, he had to get in some good meals.

It was almost one in the afternoon when you finally heard back from him. Seeing his name on your phone screen gave you an instant feeling of relief.

seungmin: come outside

You heard a knock at your door. The text had you confused, but you followed along. He couldn't be here, right?

Opening the door, there he stood. He was grinning ear-to-ear, shifting around on his feet. "Surprise."

It was on instinct that you threw your arms around him and hugged him with all the weight in your body. His wrapped around you and squeezed you back until you were wincing from the pressure.

"What are you doing here?!" You looked at him dumbfounded, your head spinning.

He looked back at you sheepishly, "I dunno, just thought it'd be cool if I showed up for a birthday surprise?"

"Yeah, but it's your birthday, Seungmin. That's the kind of thing I should be doing on your special day!"

"Well, I knew you didn't have enough to come visit this year, and I made it work! I really didn't want to wait so long to see you again."

You laced your fingers with his and pulled him inside, and that's when the explanation started.

Seungmin had first come up with the idea to come visit on his birthday almost a month prior when he first learned you couldn't come see him. He'd booked a flight out and made sure there wasn't any huge exams around the day.

That morning, he'd gotten up at six just to get ready and look good in time to catch his flight. He'd sent you photos he'd taken earlier when he was sitting in the airport, hoping it didn't look too suspicious.

The absence in texts was his flight over. It wasn't super long, but it was enough that he worried you'd catch onto his plan. From there, he'd gathered his stuff as quickly as he could and grabbed a ride over to your place.

After his story, you made sure to get him some food and snacks, which you happily enjoyed together as he turned on a show. He got a small tour of your student accommodation after the first episode before revealing that he had some plans set up.

Seungmin had made lunch reservations at a place not too far off campus and wanted to take you on a walk there. Of course, you said yes.

The entire way there, Seungmin refused to let go of your hand. He'd swing it along with your steps, chattering on about what was happening and the music he was making. But, no matter what, his fingers were locked with yours.

That was the fun part: Seungmin wasn't usually a big talker. He'd have lots of input to give when you would talk to him, but he wasn't super into initiating his own discussions. Today was different.

So as you walked down the cracked pavement of the sidewalks, your attention was grabbed by your chatty boyfriend. You got to engage with a lot of what he was saying, but it was nice to just walk and listen to him ramble.

Everything seemed more lively. The birds had their own chorus, the grass looked greener, and there were less loud cars blaring their music. By the time you were coming up on the lunch spot, you found your heart contented with the day already, even if you'd only been with Seungmin less than two hours.

"Minnie?" You squeezed his hand softly as you waited at a sidewalk.

Seungmin turned towards you with a smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming and seeing me," You felt your face flush a little at the thought, "I really don't know how I could've waited any longer without you."

Your boyfriend's big grin couldn't be contained as he let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I could've waited, either. You've been in my dreams too much lately, and it's been driving me crazy not having you here."

"You see me in your dreams, too?" You asked, recalling the one from the previous night, "It's kind of infuriating, isn't it? It feels so perfect and then it's taken away so quick."

"Yeah, I just couldn't wait another day without having you here with me," Seungmin stopped as you crossed to the other side of the street before pulling you into a hug, "I had to hold you like this for real."

"You're such a dork."

Seungmin snickered as he pulled away from the hug and gave you a quick, yet tender kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet, making you miss them the second they were gone. "For you. The rest of the world doesn't matter to me."

"Today really has you in a sentimental mood, huh?" You pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it lasted longer. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get lunch before you make out with me on the street."

[raindailies]

for as the stars burn bright, your name alone will be one i bear to light.

pairing. aventurine x gn!reader

summary. love is stupid, and fundamentally unforgiving to those which suffer the hands of it. To which, Aventurine included is no exception to the inexorable truth of it all, no matter how lucky he may be.

warnings. major character death, angst no comfort, angst, hey angst, some mentions of gore and blood.

genre. angst

notes. did i cook chat?? dividers by @/cafekitsune <3 basically just word vomit

Aventurine stared, and stared, and stared. His eyelids felt heavy, his shoulders felt more shackling than normal, his hands felt numb resting on either sides of him, his legs didn't make an effort to move.

Aventurine kept staring longer, is that all he ever knows to do nowadays? He could hear you berating him in the back of his mind, telling him to get on his feet and such.

Oh but wait.

you can't anymore.

you're gone. Gone as you had came, and gone as the wind had passed through the freckles of the sky, dazed over like a small speck of dust had gone. You were gone. And he had to accept that, it feels like a small sentence, yet it feels so much more for him.

In truth, Aventurine doesn't know how long he's stared into the picture of you and him placed vacantly on the table, there used to be 2 cups side by side, usually your side of the coffee left unfinished half-way, and his already emptied.

Now, there's only one cup, sitting alone, a despondent being. Yet, not far from it, your cup had laid, broken on the floor. Aventurine doesn't dare to pick it up, it's not fully broken, but he's scared that had he picked it up, he'd somehow damage it further.

So, he leaves it be. Aventurine was never one for remorse, or grieving. The loss in his life came and went as fast as the night had passed before him, so the blonde didn't feel much. That was what he'd thought.

Even so, he can't ignore the aching pool in his stomach, a void you once filled to the brim with warmth yet now left empty when you left. Perhaps it is his fault, everything leading up, was his fault alone.

He shouldn't have met you at all. You shouldn’t have influenced yourself with the likes of him, look where that got you. He’s considered lucky, as people would whisper praises to him, honey toned and sweet with nothing but admiration.

But what good is that luck if he couldn’t save the one he loves most? What good is he if all people he had loved seemed to disappear before him? What ‘good’ luck does he possibly have for the gods to take you away from him?

Aventurine has many questions, many left unanswered. Some for you, some for the universe, many for the questioning of the fate bestowed upon him. But Aventurine knows better.

He knows staring at the stuff you left wouldn’t do him any good, he knows pouring two cups of coffee each morning would only deepen the hole in his chest, he knows calling out an “I’m home” would get no response.

He knows recalling your bloodied body in his arms would only make his head pang endlessly, as his breathing became abnormal, and his mouth parted in panic. He blinked again, and again. A futile attempt at blinking away to rising ache of his throat—tears.

Aventurine doesn’t cry. He won’t. When his home was on fire, when he was enslaved, he’d bite his tounge to stop any flowing tears. It was a weakness, nothing more than a vulnerability to be used against him.

But you came, you held him close to your chest, fingers combing through the soft locks of his hair with a hum, smile on your face as the sunset accentuated your being, as if you couldn’t look more ethereal to him. “you can cry, Kakavasha.” He remember you’d say, softly as you whispered the words like a mantra, words lulling him at the times which he needed most, “you’re human.” You repeated to him, genuine filled your words only as you spoke.

So Aventurine—no, so Kakavasha, perhaps just this once, will cry. Cry for your sake, cry for you knowing no more would he wake up in the warm embrace of your body, cry knowing no more would he be met with a ringing laughter.

But one thing he knows for sure, for as long as the stars shine, your name alone shall be the one he bares to light. Forever and after, in the soft light of the galaxy, would your name be sung.

Maybe then, he can properly say ‘I love you’ again.

notes. so uh i wrote this last night at 12 barely awake, weirdly motivational and now that i'm sober and definitely wake, I genuinely have no idea where i was going with this?? i just omitted words after words man.

[sitp-recs]

hi! how are you?

so I read a fic some time ago that destroyed me…… like literally. I enjoyed it but at the same time I didn’t. but now I can’t stop thinking about it bc everything on it was so revolting and fucked. how to make a fic get out of our system? is it possible 😅 not to be dramatic but this fic almost made me lose interest in the whole ship lmao I just wanted to read something I enjoy again, you know? and nothing hits :( and when it does I’m almost finishing the fic and something horrible happens (that wasn’t really tagged) and I endure it until the end 💀 anyway if you have any fic that you read recently that is very romantic and monogamous or even if they are exes but they don’t date anyone else because they just can’t move on, pls share with us!! and it doesn’t have to be drarry, it can be anything. Im going through your lists and whole blog tbh looking for something that will save me lmaoooo I’ve read almost everything that interests me and you recced. (btw your break up make up list is amazing!) still I think the spark left me 🫠 ugh sorry for yapping

I’m sorry to hear that, anon :,( I think we’ve all been there at some point, god knows how many times I felt blocked, uninspired or just unable to connect to any fic. Personally, I find it helpful to take short breaks from fandom and focus on other hobbies for a while. Those fics will always be there when and if you’re ready to return! Also, imho you shouldn’t have to “endure” any fics that you find upsetting. I don’t typically have any triggers but I certainly have tropes/topics that don’t interest me much (or at all), and I have no qualms abandoning a fic when they show up unannounced 🤣

Now, it’s a bit hard to rec something randomly without knowing more about your fic tastes, but since you’re interested in romantic/monogamous stories, I thought I’d share some recs along those lines. This is a personal selection that might not work for you, but if it does I’ll be pleased to know that you’ve found that spark again :) Take care xo

Short fic:

Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 16k)

The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

Us, in Lieu by Tepre (E, 29k)

Teddy needs help and Harry needs funding. Draco sits in the other room and plays the piano.

Long fic:

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 of my new series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), imagining some sexy things

Word count: ~2.4k

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

After two weeks in her new position, Annabelle has settled into a new normal at Graceland Manor. It's not one she particularly likes or enjoys, but it's a routine at least. She's finally learned what her responsibilities are and how to do all of them. She's also met everyone in the house and learned who is worth talking to and who isn't. The other maids are not. They're both young and experienced and spend most of their time making snide comments and whispering about her. The cook, Mrs. Hall, is her favorite person, so far. She has a warm, welcoming air about her that makes Annabelle feel at home even in the big house that has no other home-like feeling. She hasn't talked to her much, but she likes her best of all anyway. And the handsome footman that answered the door when she first arrived is the cook’s son. His name is Jimmy and he's been nothing but cordial, albeit maybe a little too friendly. Most everyone else is nice enough, but she doesn't have a real companion among the group.

One of Annabelle's jobs is tending the fires in every room each morning. This means she's up before dawn every day. She doesn't enjoy that part, but it's actually quite nice to move about the house while everyone else is still asleep. Her favorite room is the library, which doubles as Mr. Presley’s private study. She never has much time to spend in there, but she does take a few minutes occasionally to look around at the books, even glancing at his desk a couple of times. He's a mess. There are papers stacked and sticking out of piles everywhere. She's not sure why, but she finds this a little endearing, even if she has sworn to hate him.

About 3 weeks after her first day, Annabelle walks into the library purposefully, ready to light the fire and try to look at the books a little. She's startled when she realizes there is a candle burning and someone sitting at the desk. There's only one person it could possibly be, so she tries to back out of the room as quickly as she can, but she hits the doorframe and it makes a loud thud. He immediately turns and stands up and she gasps.

Mr. Presley has an imposing presence even when he's not angry, so he feels almost terrifying when he is. He glares at her and Annabelle is overwhelmed with the desire to melt into the carpet.

“Where have you been?! It's freezing in here.” She shakes her head and stumbles over her words.

“I-I I'm sorry-”

“There's no excuse.” His eyes are wild and red-rimmed like he's either been crying or hasn't slept or both and his hair looks like he's run his hand through it about a thousand times. Annabelle recognizes the look of distress and her fear turns to compassion.

“Did you… have you been in here all night?” She asks in a small voice. He's obviously disarmed by the fact that she hasn't just run away from him.

“What?”

“You look like… have you slept?” She chances a step towards him and his imposing presence seems to shrink a little.

“That is none of your business! Just light the fire and get out!” He spits at her and turns away. She walks over to the fire and tends to it quickly.

As she works at the fireplace, he turns back and watches her. There was a hint of something in her voice that he hasn't experienced from anyone other than the Mrs. Hall in a very long time. Could it have been kindness?

He softens a bit as he watches her at the fireplace. Her shoulders are delicate and graceful as she works and he has the thought again that she wasn't built for this kind of hard labor. He feels an insane desire to help her, to take the task of making the fire and do it for her, but that would be inappropriate on every level. Still, something about her makes him want to throw propriety out the window and care for her the way men do in stories about knights and ladies. He's lost in this reverie when she finishes and stands up, turning back to him.

Annabelle is shocked to find him watching her when she turns away from the fire. He moves quickly to look somewhere else, but for half a second she could've sworn his expression was gentle.

“Are you finished?” He hisses, not looking at her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get out. Be earlier tomorrow.” His attempt to put her in the right place in his mind comes out as unnecessary coldness.

“Yes, sir.” Annabelle whispers and goes to walk from the room. But at the door, she pauses and turns back.

“You could tell me… why you haven't slept… if you wanted. No one would listen even if I tried to tell them your secrets.” For a second, he meets her eyes and the warmth he finds there soothes an ache he didn't even know he had. And then he remembers himself.

“OUT.” He tries to yell, but falters the tiniest bit. She nods and leaves the room.

Falling into the nearest chair, Mr. Presley sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. She's right that he hasn't slept. He's been holed up in the study trying to make sense of some documents since last night. Somewhere around 3am, the frustration had turned to grief and he cried for an hour or so. He was making his way back to frustration when she came in.

Why had he responded to her kindness with such cruelty? He knows the answer but isn't ready to face the reality of it.

******

In the next room, Annabelle sits in front of the fireplace crying quietly into her apron. She's so lonely and tired of the harshness with which she's treated here. There's not even anyone she could tell about her struggles. She's alone.

And why had she tried to connect with him? Not only is he a gentleman, he's her master, and not a very nice one at that. But something about him and his emotional state touched her and she felt compelled to offer herself in some way. And for no discernible reason whatsoever, his rejection hurts worst of all.

She starts to cry big, heaving sobs, knowing they're audible but no longer caring. Let them get rid of her. Maybe she could leave this miserable place and let Mr. Presley light his own fires.

******

On his way to bed, Mr. Presley hears the unmistakable sound of a woman crying coming from the drawing room. He walks quietly to the door and peeks through the crack.

The new maid.

His heart shatters when he hears the depth of her despair as she sobs. She's probably crying because he was so hateful. He lightly puts his fingertips on the door to push it open and go to her. Then he stops. It takes everything inside him to turn from the door and leave her there crying.

******

When Annabelle gets back downstairs, the kitchen is bustling with activity. Mr. Presley is entertaining later that evening, so Mrs. Hall is in a tizzy getting everything ready. Most days she does just fine by herself since she's only cooking for one man upstairs and the help downstairs, but when he entertains, she wishes she had some help. Annabelle wanders through despondently and perches on a bench.

“Love, don't you have something else to do?” Mrs. Hall asks, sweat running down the side of her face.

“Not really. I've done all my morning work already.” Annabelle kicks the floor with the toe of her shoe. She's still having to work to keep from crying.

“Get over here and help me, then. I'm assuming you know how to peel and chop.”

“Yes ma'am. I did all the cooking when I lived with my… my parents.” Her voice catches in her throat and Mrs. Hall stops and actually looks at her with her red little nose and tear-stained face.

“Love, what's got you upset?” Mrs. Hall asks as Annabelle washes her hands and takes some potatoes to peel.

“Nothing, ma'am.”

“Call me Gladys, dear.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“Oh, I could never.” Mrs. Hall laughs.

“Even Mr. Presley calls me Gladys sometimes.” Annabelle looks up at her in shock. That's far more interesting than her troubles.

“May I ask why?”

“Sure you can. I practically raised that boy. His mother passed trying to birth his twin and I had Daniel who was nearly the same age. Colonel Presley was lost for a good while after the mistress died and he paid very little attention to his son. The nanny they'd hired wasn't a very nice woman and Elvis- I mean Mr. Presley- used to spend most of his time hiding from her down here with me. He played with my boys and I taught him to cook and play the pianoforte. He's almost like a son to me, despite the difference in station.” Annabelle’s eyes widen with Mrs. Hall’s words. She tries to imagine a young Mr. Presley running through the kitchen, learning to cook and playing with servant boys. But more than the image of him as a child, it's the look that Mrs. Hall has when she talks about him that surprises her. It's a look of deep respect and love. She wonders how long it's been since Mrs. Hall has spoken with him. Maybe he has changed. “Now why don't you tell me what's got you so troubled.”

Annabelle looks down at the potato she's peeling and decides that she needs someone more than she needs to keep her own secrets.

“It's funny you mention Mr. Presley.”

“Why, love?” Annabelle sighs.

“He's the reason I was upset. Well, not the whole reason, but kind of the last thing I could handle. No one here has been very kind to me, him least of all.” Mrs. Hall nods and smiles.

“Hm. He likes you.” Annabelle looks at her with her face scrunched in shock.

“No, he does not. I assure you.”

“He likes you and he knows he shouldn't. He's trying to keep you at arm’s length.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“How do you know? Maybe he hates me?”

“If he hated you he wouldn't speak to you at all. I know my boy. He likes you.”

“No, I'm sure that's not it.” Annabelle continues peeling potatoes in silence, but her heart is pounding. Why does the prospect of Mr. Presley liking her make her knees weak?

******

That evening, Mr. Presley has several friends over for dinner. They eat and play cards and have cigars and brandy and recount their most recent adventures in London. His closest friend, Mr. Jasper Davies, asks what everyone else is wondering.

“When will you be married, then?” They're not eager to lose the company of their bachelor friend, but they know the expectation now that he's the master of a great house.

“I have no designs on marriage anytime soon.” Mr. Presley answers, knowing this won't be realistic for very long. He'll have to marry sooner rather than later. Still, he's never found any particular young lady of his station that he liked well enough to marry. There had been one girl, an actress, that he had loved quite a bit before he joined the army, but she was not a viable partner for him. None of the ladies of the county interested him and he found most of them to be rather one-dimensional and boring.

The conversation about marriage continues, but Mr. Presley has a hard time focusing. For some reason, the new maid enters his mind. He thinks about her slender white hands, too delicate for the work she does. And the way her uniform follows her curves down to her waist and then hides the rest. What he wouldn't give to be able to see her legs and feet unobstructed. He lets his imagination go even further and suddenly a picture of her naked and sprawled on his bed appears. His cock twitches in his pants and he has to adjust and clear his throat to bring himself back to reality. That's a thought he cannot have, especially not in present company.

Eventually, everyone retires to one of the many bedrooms in the house. Mr. Presley stops briefly in the library with the vague hope that the maid might be there. Of course she's not, but the brandy he's had makes his logic a little faulty. He makes it back to his bedroom where his valet undresses him and puts him in bed.

It's not long before he realizes he's staring at his fireplace, imagining the maid on her knees in front of it. This image is quickly replaced by an image of her on her knees in front of him. He curses himself for the inappropriate images in his head and the way his dick hardens at the thought of her, but he can't stop his hand from finding himself under his nightshirt. She's so pretty and kind and graceful and oh, God, he'd give anything to see her and feel her pressed up against him as they tumble naked together in the bedclothes.

He moans softly as his hand pumps his cock, sliding his foreskin back and forth, his thumb sweeping over the tip to collect the beads of precum as they gather. His hips buck into his palm and he strokes himself harder and faster. He tries to focus again on the actress that he normally thought of when he did this, but he can't. There is only the maid. The maid with her hands on him, with her mouth on him, with her thighs on either side of his hips as she sinks down onto him, with her lips parted and eyes closed as she reaches the peak of ecstasy and cries out his name. With that, he whimpers as he cums all over his hand, his cock throbbing and pulsing and leaking until his release has fully washed over him. He lays in his bed sweating and trying to catch his breath. The picture of her in his mind is so clear. He opens his mouth to whisper, but nothing comes out.

He doesn't even know her name.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[blackbat05]

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Howling Moon (werewolf!bucky)

Summary: you find out Bucky's a werewolf.

WC:920ish

Warnings: angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, werewolf!bucky

Read on Ao3!

-

The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant howls, the moon casting a silvery glow that turned the world into a dreamscape. You always loved the woods, but tonight felt different—charged with an energy you couldn't quite place.

As you walked deeper, your thoughts drifted to him. Bucky Barnes. The quiet guy from town, whose brooding demeanor held secrets you yearned to uncover. Rumors swirled about him, whispers of something otherworldly. Yet, the mystery only drew you closer.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the trees, making you pause. You felt a rush of adrenaline, but it was swiftly replaced by a comforting presence. There was Bucky, emerging from the shadows, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Hey,” you said, heart racing. “What are you doing out here?”

He stepped closer, the tension palpable. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I needed to think,” you replied, searching his gaze for answers. “I’ve been hearing... stories. There’s wolves around these parts, or so I’ve heard. Been wondering what they look like, how they attack their prey. Or if they even exist in these lands.”

“It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself,” he titled his head to the left as he looked at you. “I think you should go back to the village.”

You thought it strange how he ignored your statement. “Bucky, why are you-” you cut off as a howl echoed through the woods surrounding you. Just as you turned around to gaze into the thicket of trees, you felt a searing pain in your shoulder as sharp canines sank into your skin.

The next morning, you were laid up in your own bed at home, covered under your duvet, warm from the night. You’d laid there for a moment, thinking about the night previous, yet, you could hardly remember much. Didn’t i meet with someone? 

Just then, you heard a knock on your doorframe and glanced up, seeing your best friend,  Bucky, leaning against he doorframe, looking absolutely exhausted. His hair unkempt, his exposed arms covered in bruises. What the hell happened? 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, unnaturally nervous, eyeing you with caution and concern. “You were out cold when I found you out in the forest.”

“Bucky, i had the strangest dream,” you whispered, sitting up against your headboard and beckoning him inside the room.

He tensed for a moment before walking over to you, his body stiff as you reached out to him, tracing your fingers along the random scratches and bruises he’d acquired the night before. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, though his focus didn’t seem to be on you.

“Do you think werewolves exist in the forest?” you asked quietly, as though speaking louder would attract unwanted wolves to barge into your small cottage.

“Anything’s possible, sweetheart,” he frowned. You didn’t miss the worried looks he threw at you as his eyes finally grazed down your body. He knew what he’d done last night. And he damn sure knew you would shout to the villagers of his disease.

“I had a dream - you were there- and-” you coughed out for a moment, grabbing at your midriff as pain shot up from one of the many injuries you had splattered across your body. “- and then everything went black and I woke up.”

“I-” he started, afraid to admit anything to you, afraid that you would hate him for hurting you.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” you whispered, acknowledging his behavior. “One of those monsters that keep attacking the villagers every month? Bucky, how? How could i have been so foolish as to not figure this out sooner?”

He flinched as though you had gone to strike him in the face.

“Bucky, tell me.”

“You already know the truth,” he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat as he pulled away from your touch, standing in the far corner of the room. “I wanted you time and time again not to frolic through the woods late at night. I warned you of the dangers of it.”

“I’m not going to run and tell the town crier, if that’s what you think of me, Bucky,” you frowned. The way he kept flinching as you spoke broke your heart.

"I just need you to be okay," you patted the empty space he'd just vacated. "Come here."

"You were never supposed to know."

Your heart ached for him, the weight of his past hanging heavy in the air as he returned back to the bed. “You’re not a monster, Bucky. You’re still you.”

His eyes met yours, searching, as if he was trying to determine whether you could handle the truth. “What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone else? What if I kill you?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He let out a shaky breath, tension easing just a fraction. “You’re brave, you know that?”

“Maybe just stubborn,” you replied with a small smile, hoping to lighten the moment. “Or maybe I just see the real you.”

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, eyes surveying the damage he'd done to you. He let out a soft whimper as he finally assessed the damage he caused, partially large bruise across your shoulder into your collarbone.

Without saying anything else, you removed the duvet from your body and leaned forward, pulling him in for a deep hug. "I will always care about you, Bucky."

-

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

[izvmimi]

“You’ve aged, Morax.”

Zhongli bristles at your words, or perhaps his old name, for a moment, if only a small imperceptible increased tensing to his already stony posture, and you correct yourself.

“I should say Zhongli. I’m sorry.”

You can’t tell if he’s upset now for a few more moments, and something in your belly stirs in apprehension, but he laughs at your poor attempt for a joke, then relaxes his posture finally; you let out a careful sigh and sink to the ground, pulling your knees closer to your chest as you sit, thankful for the slit in your Liyue-issue silk, a welcome change from the ankara cotton you’re used to.

“You don’t look old,” you add for good measure, and he turns to you and smiles.

“I disagree,” he pauses, ruminating over six thousand years in a mere matter of moments. “Admittedly, I would love for it to show more… I do appreciate the ability of humans to grow old, even if they eventually return to dust.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to another, arms uncrossing so that his hands rest in loosely held fists behind his back.

“Gods and humans alike, even if we often claim to share so little with humans.”

A cool breeze cuts through suddenly, blowing in the foot wide space between the two of you as you stand together in the Guili Plains. The mention of dust has you bristling this time in turn, without the stoicism of your companion to carefully mask it. 

Thousands of years ago, his friend died here, dissipating as the finest of dust particles, carried away by the wind. Years pass, and time may heal all wounds, but untreated wounds also fester painfully.

You will never understand what it meant to share in that sort of communion. Not with him. Your understanding of Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli is different, having met while pleading for amnesty from as many gods as possible throughout Teyvat in order to protect your people. Morax had appeared surprised by how far you traveled, and how bold (perhaps stupid) you were to request a truce but had chosen to understand your desperation, he’d seen enough of it before, and when tragedy tore through every land, he hadn’t forgotten his promise. Morax then had promised to protect you, offering more than a simple request for nonviolence, and you remained thankful for it, your lands in Natlan untouched with a strong ally, and your friendship had begun ever since, through letters and long-spaced visits.

There’s a clear gradient of power between you that has slowly eroded with friendly affection over time, but at this point, you visit and spend time with each other, but you are not sure where you stand.

Perhaps never as ideological equals, not like the members of the Guili Assembly.

And yet, you appreciate the time spent with him right now. 

Zhongli finally takes a seat as well among the grasses, close to you. The glaze lilies still sway with the wind, their buds closed shut in the sunlight, preferring to bloom under moonlight and shadow. Humble without lacking beauty or the ability to inspire awe.

Like Guizhong. Like Zhongli. 

“Thank you for coming to see me,” he offers.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately because your heart is warmed more than what is imparted by Liyue’s setting sun shining upon you. From your vantage point are acres of sloping hills of green, orange and gold, elegant rock formations bordering graceful seas, and refined architecture. 

The people are kind and welcoming, happy much like your own.

“Thank you for having me again after all these years. Liyue is beautiful,” you praise, and you mean it. You turn to him, grinning. 

“Your people are lively; the lands are prosperous. They should be happy to have you as their god.”

Zhongli chuckles to himself. 

“I think they thrive despite me, and I’m very thankful for it.”

You tilt your head at him to mock his humility, but his smile disarms you. Still, you insist:

“Even if you give up your Gnosis, you’re still you.”

Zhongli turns his body towards you - your hands graze past each other and you quickly pull back, hoping he cannot tell that your heart has skipped a beat. 

You are a minor - rather, lesser - god, and you should be thankful you are even friends, that he is willing to entertain you despite all this time. 

Do not ask for more, you remind yourself again.

“And what am I exactly?”

His eyebrow is raised and there’s a sparkle of mischief in the way he looks at you.

“Zhongli, not Morax. Not one of the Seven, but a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

“Exactly.”

Zhongli rises again and reaches out a gloved hand for you to help you up. You take it, patting grass off of your dress, realizing he hasn’t let go even though you are both standing.

He doesn’t let go even as he takes the first step and you wonder if he’s forgotten himself. 

“The Yun-Han Opera Troupe is performing tonight. We should hurry back so you can see what else Liyue has to offer.”

He pauses, still holding your hand as you keep up, then smiles at you.

“I hope I can keep you just as enamored…” 

There’s a deliberate pause as if he is distracted, and he clears his throat quickly then continues, “... with this beautiful place during this visit.”

“Of course,” you reply, nodding quickly, following his lead.

And your heart skips a beat, and you wonder if he knows.

But just this, being together with him despite the millenia, is enough - after all, you are the goddess of compromise and second chances.

[the-grimm-writer]

I went to send you some thirsty ideas and my internet cut out 😩 not the universe trying to stop this…!! There are so many possibilities- like you were just talking about JJK and there’s some SINFULLY lovely characters there- Nanami with his perfect husband look and act just to have his cute little wife tied down to his bed, open and waiting for him to get home and that’s why he rushes after clocking out… gojo who wants you so overstimulated you can’t even hope to try to escape even if you want to- try running away while in his domain baby, let’s see how far you get… geto running his freakish little cult, one day spotting you and thinking you look so perfectly innocent… so corruptable, but you just won’t give into him no matter how nice he is, so what other choice does he have but to snatch you away???

There’s also the cute little Halloween killer, who gets away with everything including murder all because of the holiday. People are so stupid, absolutely blind to his crimes even when he’s still dripping with his last victim all because he matches the season- and unfortunately you’re no exception to that. You blindly approach him ooing and awwing his “costume” and praising his stature because he’s SO big and SO tall- he suits a slasher costume perfectly! You ask to take a selfie with him and he drags you in close, taking advantage of the closeness to press himself against you while you blush and squirm and struggle to take the photo. He watches you scamper away after, with a little wave. Unfortunately with that photo you won’t be seeing the last of him any time soon, but he’ll let you have your fun for now.

Dw I get it I'm moving so the universe is trying to stop me to. 😭

But we shall never!

.

Gojo would honestly be such a freaky yandere just because of how chill he is while being an absolute powerhouse. Like just him showing a glimpse of his domain expansion would have his poor darling too shaken up to even try and get away from him 🥺

And Geto running a cult is honestly so underrated, like the POTENTIAL. How he thinks you're the perfect match for him and uses all of his connections to keep you stuck with him now matter how much you try and run away there's no escaping. and don't get me started on the breeding kink he has (it's canon he told me). How he's determined that together you'll have the perfect children that'll fix everything. <3

.

Also kinda unrelated but the going up to the slasher and taking a selfie with him reminds me of the scene in Terrifier where that girl goes up to Art and sits on his lap and takes a selfie with him lmao.

But instead of getting brutally murdered later on, I like the idea of the slasher just being totally entranced by the way you blush and nervously giggle when he pulls you in close. How you thanked him and then immediately rushed away afterward like you're a shy school girl that just confessed to her crush.

He can't help but be fascinated. Such a sweet, innocent looking thing like you was obviously attracted to a big, scary man like him. And unfortunately for you that captures his attention. You're in for a long night when he sees you go back over to your friends.

You have a big smile on your face as you show them the picture and walk away with them, nobody realizing you're being followed. And he wonders how long that pretty smile of yours will last once he has you all to himself. <3

[narvan-jester]

Save A Horse (Bull)

WC: 4,871

Tags: Alternate Universe - Western, Rodeo Competitions, Cowboy Hats, Alcohol, Making Out, Not Beta Read, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe - No Band

Read under the cut or on AO3

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before. Phantom's eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Or

Phantom ends up grabbing a drink with Bull Rider Swiss.

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the incoming headache brought on by the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells around him, endured for far too long. He let out a sigh. “Aurora, promise me that after this show we'll leave,” he asked, exasperated.

Aurora, his best friend for longer than he could remember, just smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Come on, Tommy, I can't believe you're not enjoying it! Let loose a little, we haven't even seen the goats yet!”

Phantom frowned, wagging his finger in her face. “Oh no, no, no, I know how you work. I've known you long enough. Thirty minutes is going to turn into three hours before you know it. And!” He said, pressing the finger over her lips, keeping them shut as she tried to protest. “You only want to see this next show because you think the rider’s hot. I know you, you never enjoy bull riding.”

Aurora swatted Phantom’s hand away, a pout forming on her face. “You're no fun,” she whined, lifting her hat to sweep her hair back before settling it back on her head. “Besides, after this show there's barrel racing, and I wanted to study some of the riders. You know the Cirrus is here!”

God, Phantom wishes he wasn't so susceptible to Aurora’s charms. “Fine. We'll stay until after Cirrus' show, then we'll leave. Deal?”

Aurora pouted slightly. “Deal. Now come on, we have to get good seats.” She practically dragged him up the metal risers, sitting him down forcefully and plopping herself right next to him. “You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it!”

The pounding behind Phantom’s eyes only increased as a crowd began to gather, mumbling half-heartedly about how he was “missing the sheep shows” and had “already seen the steers”.

He tried valiantly to focus, for Aurora if anything, as the speakers crackled to life. He squinted up at the screen, watching a big black bull shake and toss his head from side to side, restless and stubborn in the closed-off space.

Some name shone on the screen, flashing away before he could read all of it, only catching something like “Swiss”. He rolled his eyes as Aurora poked him a little, straining her neck a little to talk to him close enough to be heard. “That's the one. He'll be last.”

Phantom gave some sort of a half-entertained grunt, seemingly enough for Aurora to not jab him in the ribs.

He didn't pay much attention to the few poor riders flung right off their smaller, tamer bulls, feeling Aurora tense in sympathy as each one hit the ground. Only when he faintly heard the intercom announce the name did he perk up for Aurora’s sake. Not that he needed to be listening, Aurora’s sharp punch in the shoulder was enough for him to straighten up, eyes locked on the screen.

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before, possibly helped along by the bull rope now tied around it. His eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Aurora must have sensed his thoughts, because she once more strained up to talk too loudly into his ear. “I told you he was hot!”

Phantom grumbled, face going red as he pushed her away playfully. “Shut up and watch the show.”

The man has since turned his attention from the camera, carefully mounting the bull. And if Phantom’s eyes were admiring his body as he settled onto the bull on the screens, no one needed to know.

He tore his gaze away from the screen as a shrill beep echoed through the arena, instead looking down to watch the bull rip from its spot into the arena, bucking wildly to rid itself of the parasite on its back.

Phantom couldn't keep his eyes off the man’s hips, rolling and shifting in quick adjustments to accommodate the rapid shift of weight, thighs pinching close to its flank and one hand raised in the air, the other wrapped white-knuckled around the rope.

His movements were fluid, oddly natural as if he fused with the bull itself.

It seemed both an eternity later and far too soon that another buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the ride just eight seconds later. The rider jumped off, rolling into the ground almost gracefully, before hopping to his feet and jogging to the edge where he easily slipped over the fence, dropping onto the other side without issue and quickly absorbed into a wave of bodies.

Phantom was nearly oblivious to the cheers around him, until Aurora giggled beside him. “I bet now you're glad I made you stay,” she teased.

Phantom rolled his eyes, but in truth, his headache was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, now the pain was nearly imperceptible, as if it wasn't there at all. “You,” he sighed. “I am going to get you back for this.”

Aurora giggled again. “Yeah, sure you will,” she said, eyes only half focused on the bull being rounded up below as they began setting up for the next event. “Come on, there's at least a few minutes until the barrel racing starts, let's grab something quick to eat.”

Phantom simply nodded, following Aurora down the stands with the rest of the previous crowd. Most of the crowd seemed to gather in a throng near where he had spotted the rider jump out of the pen, clearly clambering for a grin or a fist bump or an autograph from the little local celebrity.

He barely noticed he had stopped until Aurora was back at his side, tugging him away. “You absolute dunce, you stick with me, you hear me? I don't care if you want Mr. Swiss Cheese over there to give you a bright little grin, I want a cheeseburger.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, letting himself be dragged along by her. “When do you not want a cheeseburger?”

“Shut your mouth,” she snipped playfully, just continuing to pull him along.

* * *

The little burst of energy gained from watching the bull rider was drained from them too quick for their liking, headache once again presenting to pound at their temples as they sat through all the barrel racing for Aurora. Their gaze barely tracked the rider Aurora had wanted to see, only giving a hum of acknowledgement as she gushed over her methods.

He sort of registered her saying something to him, but it was drowned under a wave of fuzz and pain in his head. The next thing he really noticed was Aurora no longer being by his side, and the realization was enough to immediately zap his brain into overdrive.

His gaze immediately darted over the heads of the surrounding crowd, trying to grasp a glance of her tan hat and failing. He grumbled a little under his breath, wishing she hadn't worn the damned thing when she wasn't even competing just so he could see her colored hair bouncing through the crowd.

Phantom knew she could hold her own in a fight, unfortunately from personal experience, but that didn't still his worry of something serious happening to her. With no other reasonable idea in mind, he set to a brisk walk, hoping to somehow stumble across her.

He took several rounds around the arena, stopping at her favorite food trucks and brushing past the goats just in case. His breath only seemed to quicken in his worry, pulling out his phone to see if he could call her.

He bent over his screen, tapping it and clicking the power button. Fuck. Of course it stayed black, dead. He pocketed it, sighing more with worry than exasperation as he decided to branch out to places he hadn't looked.

God, it was loud. Concrete and sheet metal did not agree with his ears. The floor was covered in a fine layer of dirt and hay dust, which he kicked up with each step. The smell of sweet fair food mixing with animal feces turned his stomach, combined with the worry making it all that more nauseating.

Phantom wasn't even sure where he was walking, barely noticing the fewer people around him as he walked, opening and closing the little metal gates separating areas behind him.

A shrill whistle suddenly caught his attention, turning around to meet the source as someone approached him, rubbing sweat off their face with a bandana. “Ho boy, watcha’ doing back here? You got clearance, or you with anybody?”

His eyes squinted a little, faintly recognizing the face twisted in confusion. “Uh, not sure, but I'm looking for my friend. About yay high, pink and blue dyed hair?” Phantom asked, gesturing. “You seen her?”

The man shrugged. “Probably not back here. Y'know this is where the riders and such are supposed to be?”

Phantom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit! My bad, haven't been to this venue before. I'll go look elsewhere,” he stammered, stepping back slightly.

The man grinned at him and that finally sparked Phantom’s memory. Jesus fuck, that was the bull rider. Swiss, or whatever his name was. “No need to worry, buddy, no one minds much, just as long as you don't cause problems on purpose. Besides, maybe…” he trailed off, scrubbing a little at the stubble on his face as he thought. “You said pink and blue dyed hair?” He asked.

Phantom’s eyes lit up a little. “Yeah, about shoulder length, and a tan hat.”

Swiss' eyes widened and he chuckled, as he patted Phantom’s shoulder like they were old friends. “I wouldn't bother myself looking for her right now, unless it's a real emergency. I saw Cirrus walking out of here with a little lass matching just the description.”

Phantom lifted his hand to his face, exasperated. “You're joking, right?”

“Nope! Seems like your little friend has wormed her way into the eyes of the big dogs! Trust me, if you go after her now she will kill you, if Cirrus doesn't do it first,” Swiss commented, a bit too casually for Phantom’s liking.

Swiss flashed another of his smiles at Phantom, and his short-lived annoyance vanished in an instant. “Message heard loud and clear. Might as well congratulate you for your time on the bull out there before I get out of your hair.”

Swiss' expression shifted minimally, rummaging in his pockets for something. “Yeah, yeah, it was a tough bull. You got a hat or something for me to sign?”

Phantom’s brow furrowed. “No, no, I don't need an autograph. Never a huge fan of bull riding.”

Swiss' face shifted again, seemingly more light-hearted as he tucked a sharpie back into his pocket. “Damn, hitting me with that now?” He joked, once again slapping Phantom on the shoulder.

Phantom’s face flushed as he groaned, hiding it in his hands. “You know what I meant,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift. What's your name, kid? You compete in anything?” Swiss asked, nudging Phantom again.

Phantom forced his hands back to his sides with more effort than it should have taken. “I'm Phantom, but most people call me Tom or Tommy. More normal, easier to remember. I typically show sheep or steers, some roping, but this one was too high level for me to really get in,” he told Swiss, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Swiss shrugged, beginning to walk away, gesturing with one hand for Phantom to follow him. “Phantom ain't a bad name. God, at least you're not stuck with the nickname Swiss.” He raised a hand as Phantom opened his mouth to object, almost as though he had sensed it. “Trust me, used to not be as much of a good thing.”

Phantom clicked his mouth shut audibly, nodding along. “No, no, I get it. It's why I started going by Tom instead of Phantom.”

Swiss whistled. “Trust me, kid, you take that uniqueness and hold it tight. No one’s gonna watch if there ain't no bull on the field.”

Phantom tilted his head minutely at the comparison, tucking it away in their mind to ponder over later. “So when do you think Aurora- er, my friend, is going to be back?” He asked, changing the subject.

Swiss chuckled, hunching his shoulders a little bit as that dazzling grin lit up his face once more. “I'd give you two hours at best. At worst, you ain’t seeing hair nor hide of her till morning.”

“Fucking hell,” Phantom groaned, running his hand over his face. “I'm not sure whether to be more disappointed or proud of her.”

That got Swiss to let loose more than his previous chuckles, laughter setting something fizzing and popping in Phantom’s stomach. “Yeah, yeah,” Swiss said, waving away the last of his laughter with a hand. “Say, since you're probably stuck here for a little longer, you wanna sneak out and grab a quick drink with me?”

Phantom's eyes nearly popped from his head. “Well, if you're offering,” he joked, trying to slow his jumping and stuttering heartbeat to a normal speed once more.

Swiss chuckled again, flashing Phantom yet another bright smile. “C’mon, I'll drive us there if you won't mind. My truck ain't far.”

Phantom nodded almost over enthusiastically, energy seeping to pop over his skin. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good!”

Swiss nodded, smile dropping into something more sober as he reached an exit door, pulling his keys into his hand in preparation. “Don't stop for anything, don't talk to anyone. Try and walk as quick as possible, I really don't want to end up signing fifteen more autographs,” he groaned, rolling his wrist.

Phantom nodded, attitude sobering with Swiss as he stepped through the door, pace immediately fast enough to have Phantom stumbling to keep up.

Swiss stopped beside a tall black truck, unlocking it and climbing in. Phantom took to the other side, lifting himself up slightly into the passenger's seat. Swiss shut his door firmly and Phantom did the same, watching as Swiss leaned his head back, eyes closed with a sigh.

Phantom took the moment to rove his eyes over the interior of the truck. Several crushed energy drink cans lay on the floor at his feet, more on the dash and in the backseat. Otherwise, the truck was sleek and clean, furnished by shiny black leather.

Phantom’s eyes darted back to Swiss as he heard a little chuckle, smiling a little awkwardly at him as Swiss gazed back. “Sorry about the mess, most of my buddy’s don't mind,” he said, straightening in his seat and sliding his key into the ignition. “Just throw them in the back seat if they're bothering you.”

“No, no, it's alright,” Phantom said, mind a little dazed still. The conversation drew to an awkward silence as Phantom drew the seatbelt over his body, clicking it into place. “Know any good places around here?” He asked, trying to get the conversation up and running again.

Swiss chuckled, shaking his head as he did the same. “No, no, not really from around here. You?”

“Couple towns over,” Phantom replied, studying Swiss as he began to pull out of the grounds. “We just gonna show up to the first bar we see and hope it ain't crowded?”

Swiss shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Well, I know one place. You a fan of underground shows?”

Phantom shrugged a little. “I'm pretty much up to anything as long as the beer’s good and the music’s good,” he stated simply.

“Then you might damn near love this place,” Swiss grinned, tossing a glance to Phantom before leaning over and turning up the radio, letting the music fill the truck for the drive.

A few minutes later, Swiss pulled into a little near-empty parking garage, switching off the ignition. “Alright, Phantom, I'm about to blow your mind,” he said, stretching both his arms high over his head with a groan.

Phantom shrugged, a little nip of anxiety working its way into his brain. “You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?”

Swiss barked out a laugh, warm enough for Phantom to forget his previous worry. “God, of course not! Trust me a little here,” he joked, slipping out of the truck, Phantom following.

Swiss waited until Phantom rounded the truck to meet him, setting off not in the direction of the exit, but instead to a small metal maintenance door inset into the wall. “Wait, Swiss, what are you doing?” Phantom asked, heart rate skipping as Swiss reached for the handle.

“Dude,” Swiss placated, pointing at the metal plaque. “I said it was gonna be an underground show.”

Phantom fixed his attention on the plaque, quickly skimming the words. Raindrop Bar. “Huh,” he muttered simply, tilting his head at the door as Swiss rolled his eyes playfully and pushed his way in.

The atmosphere inside was far different from the empty parking garage they had been in just a moment before. It was populated, for one, eyes pinning on them the moment the door opened before slipping away one by one. It was also louder, too, a little rag-tag band up on a makeshift stage playing something deep and rocky. Dull colored lights swept over the small crowd gathered in front of the stage, and it took a moment for Phantom to realize that Swiss was walking away from him.

They hurried to follow, nearly tripping over themselves as they caught up to Swiss right as he slid into a seat at the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender. Phantom slid in beside him, shifting to get comfortable in the polished wood seat.

The bartender smiled back at Swiss, immediately turning to greet him, sashaying his hips. “Swiss, Swiss, Swiss, what am I going to do with you?” He cooed affectionately.

Phantom’s eyes quickly darted over the bartender’s body, a casual glance-over before his brain caught up to him and his eyes locked on him again. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement, with his curled black hair shining nearly blue around his eyes and with the silver glinting from his ears and face. Their eyes traveled lower for a moment before they diverted their attention, a little panicked and flushed, back to Swiss.

“God, Rainy, don't even try to get on me for this,” Swiss jeered playfully. “You're not much better.”

The bartender turned his attention to Phantom, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Swiss. “Now what's your name and your order?” He asked quickly, stepping back to grab a cup.

“Uh-” Phantom stuttered, glancing at Swiss for a little help. God, it did not help. Swiss was gazing at him with a hungry look in his eyes, grinning lazily. He tore his eyes away as quick as possible, warmth brewing in his gut. “Name's Phantom. How about a good ol’ judge of character?” Phantom asked, mind too frazzled to grasp anything else. “Whatever you think I'd like.”

The bartender nodded, hips swaying a little bit as he whipped up what looked like a cherry sour, sliding it to Swiss. “Gotcha.” He hummed idly, pulling stuff towards himself before speaking again. “So how’d little Swiss here pick you up?”

Phantom shrugged, glancing at Swiss only to be met once more with his grin and forcing himself to look away. “I wandered where I shouldn't have, and sweet talked my way into my current situation,” Phantom joked, trying to play up his confidence. The bartender hummed, eyebrow twitching upward as he slid Phantom a cocktail, orange slice perched on the edge of the glass. Phantom lifted the glass to his lips, sipping it and humming appreciatively at the perfect mix of flavoring and liquor.

Swiss sighed, sipping his own drink. “Yeah, yeah, pretty much,” he commented, waving his hand dismissively. “Phantom, by the way, this is Rain. Good friend.”

Phantom nodded at Rain, smile a little tight as he took another sip of his drink. Rain flourished his hands, shrugging and lolling his head to the side. “Owner of this fine establishment,” he added, voice a little playful.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Swiss joked, taking his hat off his head and tossing it playfully at Rain. Rain caught it, slipping it onto his own head and sticking his tongue out at Swiss as Phantom felt his chest constrict, knowing exactly what that meant.

He diverted his gaze, and downed the rest of his drink, barely registering the taste and instead reveling in the mild burn as it slipped down his throat.

Swiss chuckled at Rain, glancing back at Phantom as he clinked his empty glass back onto the table, stubbornly refusing to look at him. Phantom could feel his expression fall. “Whoa, dude, you okay? Are you still worried about your friend?”

Phantom clenched his teeth, shaking his head and rubbing at the side of his nose a little, huffing, refusing to make eye contact.

Swiss beckoned for his hat back from Rain, quickly sucking the last of his drink up as he shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into a back pocket to slide a ten over the bar. “Alright, let's get you back,” Swiss said, voice quick as he stood, clapping Phantom on the shoulder.

God, he wished he could refuse, but his truck was back at the grounds and his phone was dead so he couldn't call a ride. Damnit. He stood, eyes still stubbornly lowered as he followed Swiss out, missing the look Rain threw him.

He slipped into the passenger seat without saying a word to Swiss, refusing to meet eyes with him. Swiss got in as well, shutting the door, but not starting the ignition.

As the tension stretched between them, Phantom finally glanced up, meeting Swiss' eyes where they were locked on him. “You going to acknowledge me now?” Swiss asked, voice a little sour.

God, maybe alcohol wasn't the best idea for him. That drink must have been stronger than they thought, rolling their eyes and scoffing. “Just take me back, dude.”

Swiss tilted his head. “No,” he deadpanned.

“No?” Phantom sputtered indignantly, glaring at Swiss.

Swiss crossed his arms in front of his chest, brown eyes glowing almost gold from the interior lights shining down on them. Phantom furrowed his brow, cowered a little, suddenly too aware of how much scrawnier they were than Swiss.

“You're a bitch,” Phantom hummed, waving him away and turning his face out the opposite window.

“What upset you so bad?” Swiss asked, voice low and gravely behind Phantom. He stayed stubbornly quiet, making Swiss sigh. “I know this is about Rain and the hat.”

“Yeah, it is about the fucking hat!” Phantom spat with no real malice behind the words, feeling like nothing more than a jealous schoolgirl.

Swiss groaned, and Phantom spared a glance as he dragged his hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on the sides. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Just take me back,” Phantom muttered, voice a little too quiet. “I was being stupid.”

He suddenly felt a hand grasp his, and gasped indignantly as Swiss dragged it closer to himself onto the center console. Phantom fixed a glare to the top of Swiss' hat as he bent over his hand, writing rapidly into the skin of it.

The moment Swiss straightened, Phantom snatched his hand back, a glance at the skin of his hand making his breath stutter just a bit as he realized what was written there.

Swiss was waiting as Phantom looked back up at his eyes, offering a small smile at him. Phantom squinted, then sighed, eyes darting down again. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

Swiss raised an eyebrow. “That was enough of an apology for you?”

Phantom gazed into Swiss' eyes, scrutinizing them. “What more apology do you have to offer?” He asked, maybe a tinge recklessly.

Swiss slowly raised his hand to the one he had just written on, brushing lightly over the knuckle, sparks flying from the contact. His eyes never left where they were locked on Phantom’s, and he found he couldn't look away either.

It stayed that way for a few moments, long enough for the interior lights to click off. In the dark silence, Swiss spoke again. “Can I kiss you?”

Any other circumstance and Phantom would have said no. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the drying ink on his hand, or the tingles in his gut when he recalled Swiss' grin, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he nodded, just a little tilt of the head, leaning towards Swiss.

Swiss met him halfway, lips crashing together in the dark and noses knocking into each other. It wasn't simple or graceful, instead woven with too many complex emotions to study in the dark.

Phantom pulled back for air, chest heaving a little as he tilted his forehead into Swiss’, nudging up his cowboy hat slightly. It seemed almost intimate for a moment, breathing in each other's air, until Phantom darted in again, mouth open and hot against Swiss’.

A hand fisted into his shirt at his back, pulling him closer. The kiss was nearly ravenous, and Phantom couldn't seem to get enough. Swiss pulled away for air this time, and Phantom felt a thin string of spit connect their lips for a moment before falling away.

They sat for a few more moments, chests heaving in tandem as they breathed in each other's warm, humid breath. Swiss twisted his head, nosing at Phantom's neck, hat falling onto the floor without care.

Phantom gasped as Swiss' warm lips plastered themselves to his neck, hands snaking around to grip Swiss' shirt tightly in his hands, eyes fluttering slightly.

Warm, wet kisses were gently placed along his neck, trailing upward to a point just under his ear. Phantom must have whined, gasped, something, because Swiss chuckled before gripping the skin lightly between his teeth and sucking.

“Oh fuck, Swiss, Swiss,” Phantom stammered, nails digging into Swiss' back from where they were clenched.

Swiss pulled away, eyes searching Phantom’s in the low light. “Too much?” He asked, a little sheepish.

“Fuck no,” Phantom managed to mutter, dragging Swiss back towards him and crashing their lips together with more passion than before. Open-mouthed and messy, Phantom reveled in the taste of whiskey on his tongue, whining as Swiss nipped gently at his bottom lip before pulling back again, locking eyes.

They were both panting, hungry with passion. “I need to get you back,” Swiss whispered, voice still too loud for the quiet space punctuated only by their heavy breaths.

“I know,” Phantom replied, voice equal in volume, still unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

“Fuck,” Swiss sighed, pulling away with great effort and sliding the key into the ignition, sparking the engine to life. He picked his hat up from where it had fallen, slipping it back onto his head.

Phantom straitened, a blush spreading on their face as they buckled quickly, embarrassed as light from yellow street lamps washed away the privacy.

It was quiet the entire drive back to the grounds, breaths returning to a normal pace as they kept their eyes averted from each other the whole way.

Swiss eased into a parking spot at the grounds, shifting the truck into park. Phantom undid his seatbelt, opening the door and preparing to step out when Swiss' voice stopped him. “Hey.”

He glanced up to meet Swiss' eyes, irises carrying hope in their deep blue, nearly purple depths.

Swiss took his hat in his hand, reaching and settling it onto Phantom’s hair with a tired smirk. “Call me?” He asked, voice softer than his words suggested.

Phantom nodded, mind feeling fuzzy as he absent-mindedly brushed his fingers over his neck where he could feel bruises forming. “Yeah,” he replied, voice equally as soft as he stepped out of the truck, shutting the door. He stood there as Swiss shifted into reverse, pealing away from him.

And if Phantom stood there for a few minutes, rubbing along his neck, it was nobody's business.

Finally Phantom forced himself into action, glancing around to gain his bearings before setting off in the direction of his truck. His eyes lit up a little as he saw a familiar shape leaning against it, face illuminated by her phone screen. She glanced up as Phantom came closer, smiling at him, before furrowing her eyes at him.

“Did you-”

Phantom cut her off before she could continue. “I won't say anything if you won't,” he mumbled, eyes pointedly fixed on similar marks along the column of her throat.

She shrugged in reply.

“Were you waiting long?” Phantom asked, sidling up to the driver's door, opening it.

Aurora climbing in the other side, shrugging again. “Just a few minutes.” Phantom shut his door, turning on the truck before reaching to the gear shift. Aurora’s eyes locked on his hand as it shifted, widening as she chuckled. “Damn, you did get lucky!” She exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Phantom mumbled, tugging his sleeve over the marker half-heartedly as he began steering them in the direction of home.