#(then i went to bed and finished it this morning)

[bonbonly]

Hiiii ily so much, you feed my dark mind so well 💀

So here’s my thot…

Mask kink with Carlos? I was listening to São Paulo and I kept looking at the cover on Spotify and like…it dawned on me how HOT it’d be to have the mask and fear kink mixed together. Like SIR? hold me down 😩

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your sweet lovely neighbor invited you to a halloween party, and you - ever the clumsy, naive girl - got tricked more than treated. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping, p in v, oral (f receiving), gunplay/gunfuck, choking, gaslighting, fingering 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i unashamedly enjoyed writing this bye like why'd you put this in my ask, i literally went FERALLLLL over it but i hope you enjoy it babes!!!

"good morning, carlos!" you chirped, opening the mailbox in front of your driveway. your slightly older neighbor waved at you, a charming smile that made butterflies fly in your stomach. he was wearing jeans that were snug against his thighs, a loose white t-shirt on and his cap backwards. his hair swept back under the cap, eyes all big and beautiful. you sighed, dreamily as you watched him head back into his house. your dreamy neighbor that always flirted with you when you came over to deliver his mail.

"the mailman just can't seem to differentiate our houses, hm?" you'd laugh, teetering on your toes. you caught a small glimpse of his house, hoping he'd let you in so you could "jokingly" see what your future house would look like. he'd flip through the mail, shaking his head with a chuckle,

"ay, hermosa, they must think i like planting pink roses in my free time," he'd snicker, tapping your head with his bundle of envelopes. it was just a playful gesture, really, but you'd blush to yourself and watch him close his front door. you'd sigh out loud, realizing your efforts of dropping subtle hints about your interest wasn't working and you skipped back over to your house, tending to your garden once more.

halloween was coming up around the corner and this year, the entire neighborhood was doing a competition for the spookiest house. you were determined to win it. going out of your way to buy extra decorations, you spent much of the week giving you front yard some spooky decor. a giant spider on one side, some skeletons doing some funny dances, and then of course the lights. you only ever did the lights at night so you wouldn't spoil the surprised for your neighbors. so, who else would you call to help you?

your trusty and super hot neighbor carlos of course! he was more than happy to help you, saying that you were always so clumsy, you'd be so lost without him! you climbed up the staircase, toying with the cables and tape before you smacked them into a straight line on the edge of your roof.

"fuck, i can't reach!" you cried out, "carlos, can you do this instead?"

"no, no, you have to do it, chica. you can do it," he grinned, pushing your ass up the ladder. you yelped in surprise at his hand under your skirt, and you swore you felt him squeeze your flesh. you glanced down at him, staring at this big innocent brown eyes. no, you must've imagined it! he wouldn't do such a thing! not your super sweet neighbor! you sighed, going up another step on the ladder to finish attaching the rest of the lights. you turned back to find carlos pointing his phone at you, a smirk on his lips, "for the memories. it's your first time going all out for the decor!"

you hopped off the ladder, smacking your hands with a smile, "thank you so much for the help, neighbor!" and you were going to return back to the comfort of your bed, when he was so gracious enough to finally let you in his house! you giddily accepted his offer, pushing past him towards his house. he laughed, eyes trained on the way your ass bounced under that skirt - if it even counted as one. he trailed behind you, watching you crash onto his couch.

grabbing the tv remote, he flipped through a couple channels while settling down next to you, "you like horror movies?"

"uh... not at night," you laughed, "i can handle anything in the light. just not in the dark. get a bit scared, yeah i know how embarrassing that is but it's the truth."

carlos nodded his head, landing on a horror film. he tossed the remote to the side, out of your reach. you gulped, already feeling a bit queasy at the gore on the tv and you felt bad about being in his house and demanding stuff from him. you shifted in your seat, averting your eyes to the nicely decorated walls, and then you felt his hand on your thigh. you glanced down at how big his hand was, and especially how it was inching closer to your clothed sex. you chuckled, thinking he must be a bit tired from helping you and you grabbed his hand, placing it back down on his lap. his eyes, which were originally transfixed on tv, snapped to you. a hard glare that you faced that made your skin crawl. he brought his back down on your thigh, squeezing your flesh harshly, enough for it to hurt. you cried out in pain, smacking him across his face. you grabbed your belongings, fleeing from his house. it surely didn't help that you lived right next door, but you locked your front door and ascended the staircase to your bedroom, holding back some tears. this had to be some sort of twisted nightmare. your sweet neighbor wouldn't do that to you! he'd only ever been nice! why would he think it was okay for him to touch you? you shook your head, taking off your clothes to slip into your nightwear and you buried yourself in the covers of your bed. it just had to be a dream!

and thankfully, that's exactly what your sweet neighbor told you the next morning at your door. he had a pot of petunias in his hands, that same warm smile on his face,

"morning, chica!" he greeted, "saw you had an empty spot in the garden. you know, i was going to the store and i saw this and said hmm, this looks like it belongs in (y/n)'s garden and so i bought it! no need to pay me back, i just want to make sure if anyone wins the halloween decoration contest it should be you!"

you stood there dumbfounded, wondering if the events of last night really happened. with much hesitance, you decided to test the waters, "a-aren't you mad at me?"

"mad at you for what?" carlos asked, furrowing his brows.

"i slapped you pretty hard yesterday," you replied, "because you were feeling me up, remember?"

carlos's jaw dropped, and his eyes darted around your front door. he shook his head in disbelief, "w-what? excuse me? i helped you with your decorations and then you went to sleep.."

"but it felt... it felt real, i knew that-"

"so you'd accuse me of touching you?" his shoulders fell, his lips forming into a thin line, "forgive me, hermosa. i spent 30 dollars getting these plants for you, and this is how you repay me? increíble. te esfuerzas por ayudar a una chica y ella no es más que una pequeña zorra," he muttered in spanish. you didn't understand what he was saying, but you figured it was something awful about you. you shook your head, taking the flowers from his hands,

"y-you're right. i'm so sorry. i must've just had a very vivid nightmare. i'm so sorry, carlos. how can i make it up to you? you did help me last night with all the decorations," you pouted. he licked his lips, eyes raking over your body still in your nightgown from last night and he shrugged.

"uh... déjame pensar, hmm...." he scratched his chin, fingers gliding up his jaw, "a good friend of mine down the street is hosting a halloween party. you should come over. i'll accept your apology if you sneak me extra chocolates."

you sighed in relief, extremely happy that your sweet neighbor was willing to forgive you for your foolishness. you giggled, nodding your head frantically, "yes, yes! i'll definitely do it! when's the party?"

"tomorrow and it starts at 10:00."

"that's kinda late for a halloween party," you frowned, and carlos rolled his eyes,

"are you coming or not?"

"i'm coming, i'm coming. just had to blurt out my thought, that's all. thank you very much for the flowers, carlos," you held up the pot in your hands, a sheepish smile on your lips as he walked off to his house. he looked gorgeous with that tight sweatshirt, his pecs barely contained under the fabric. how could you have ever thought of him in a bad light! he was such a sweetheart, buying you the petunias knowing that it would work well with your decorations. you pouted your lips at the thought, cooing at how pretty the petals were before heading back into your house.

you had picked out a really cute cat outfit for the night. it wasn't really meant to be revealing or sexy, just a cute outfit. a long black gown with black stockings, black cat ears and a tail to match. you had lipstick on your nose and used your eyeliner to draw whiskers. content with how your outfit turned out, you hummed to yourself as you left your house, locking your front door. the end of the street was a bit of a walk, and since it was dark outside you whipped out your phone as the flashlight to guide you. you came across a very shady house, only the front light on. no other decorations. that should've been your first warning to get back home, but you assumed it was part of the ambience for the party. you knocked on the front door, craning your neck to see if there's any light inside the house. no response. you scowled, grabbing the door knob only to find the door completely unlocked.

"hello?" you peered inside, flicking some of the switches on. when none of them seemed to be working, you glanced down at your phone and realized you were only at 20 percent. it would be pointless to waste all your phone battery trying to find people in the dark, "ok guys, come on now! jokes not funny!"

you bit your lip, your chest tightening at how dark it was around you. you really hated the dark. "i get that this must be some sort of sick joke. hello? anyone? c-carlos? someone? turn on the lights now!"

despite all your attempts at getting a response, none came. you huffed under your breath in annoyance, crossing your arms at how stupid you could be to come over to some random person's house. you only trusted the address because your sweet neighbor gave it to you. your ears perked up at the sound of metal jingling in the distance and you whipped your head around to to the kitchen. with cautious steps, you extended your arms out to feel the walls, using them as a way to guide you. in the darkness, you could make out what you assumed to be the kitchen counter, and then some cabinets above. the moonlight through the windows shone onto a small corner of the shelf, a flashlight on display for you to grab. you shook the device in your hands a couple times, turning the switch on and off before shaking it once more. a couple more harsh smacks to the side of the flashlight didn't do the trick either.

and then the front door clicked shut, the sound of a lock turning making your ears perk up.

"hello?" you called out once more, stepping out of the kitchen. the front door was a few feet away, the lock unmistakably turned on. one you heard the sound of metal chains dancing together, that's when your brain decided to gear up. you sprinted to the front door, crashing right into a pillar that helped support the structure of the house. you moaned in pain, hands clutched your forehead. clumsy little (y/n), never able to defend herself even if her life depended on it. the flashlight rolled around your frame as you rocked side to side, whispering small "ows". the door was just a feet away, and you extended your hand to crawl over when a firm boot stomped right onto your fingers.

"fuck!" you howled, the feeling of your bones being crushed coursing through your veins. you felt the boot drag down to your head, pressing your face against the wooden floor.

"shh, shhh...." a voice from above you cooed, "not a word from you. you have to be quiet."

"my fucking fingers," you hissed, curling your digits to see if anything was broken. the boot dug deeper onto your skin, almost choking you as you struggled to breathe. your voice was nothing more than strangled cries, your feet kicking around. within seconds, the mysterious man above you kicked your back, sending you rolling over into what you assumed was the living room. you coughed out loud, rubbing your sore face before feeling firm hands grip onto your ankles, dragging your body to the kitchen.

"who... who are you? let go of me!" you hollered, using your free hand to swat him away. you could barely see anything in the dark, and that only scared you more, "what's going on?" your attempts to sit up are thwarted when he brings his arm against your neck, pinning you onto the ground. his face was inches from yours, and you could smell him. he smelled familiar, a certain type of cologne that you remembered from somewhere but being so stricken by fear, your thoughts were all jumbled together. all you could think about was finding a way to escape. you took note of his white mask from the dim moonlight, a frown etched into the plastic material. with his free hand, he dragged his palm down your body, groping your lush tits. he had a rich laugh when you squirmed against him, trying to wriggle away.

"please, please let me go," you whimpered, feeling your hips being hoisted into the air as his hands snaked around to grab at your ass. he smacked the flesh of one cheek, fingers digging in to leave small crescents when he squeezed. he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling the tail tied around your waist and letting it snap against your skin. you gasped out loud, trying to process the way your skin stung afterwards. his hands slid up your back, curling into your collar before ripping apart your dress. you cried out loud, having worn nothing underneath save some black panties.

"a slut through and through," the man's accented voice whispered above your head, tearing at the fabric and bringing the rest of the material over your head. he tossed it to the side, and returned his hands to feel the rest of your body, "oh, mierda, i've dreamt about this for so long, so fucking long."

to emphasize his point, he smacked your ass a couple times before sinking his teeth in your flesh. your anguished wails did nothing to deter him, and you were sure he had bit hard enough to draw blood. your ass felt like it had been burned against a hot iron rod; your arms flailed behind your back, trying to push him off you but instead the stranger ripped your panties to pieces, spreading your ass as he spit down to the ring of muscle, watching it wink at him. his saliva trailed down to the edge of your cunt. you couldn't really tell what was going on but quite shortly, you felt your arms being guided behind your back, tightly bound before he grabbed your hips and once again pulled your ass up into the air. your legs wrapped around his, your back arched uncomfortably as you felt another wave of his saliva wash down against your cunt. you couldn't help but whine out loud when he wrapped his lips around your folds, nibbling on them as you shook your head. your bound arms thrashed into the air but it wasn't really helping you at the moment. his tongue delved into your pretty pussy, his deep moans vibrating through your core.

"please stop, i'm begging you! i don't even know who you are!" you whined, tears streaming down your face. your cries were cut short as a moan ripped through you, his thumb circling your clit as his tongue lapped at your sweet nectar. your could feel the edge of his mask hit your ass every time his tongue went deeper inside you. it swirled around in your tight walls like some festering parasite, eagerly waiting to ruin its host. his tongue traveled up to your asshole, circling the ring of muscle and that's when your screams became louder. "not there! stop it! let go of! let go or i'll scream so loud that-"

"keep screaming, no one will save you, zorra," he bit down on the globe of your ass, humming when you let out a sob. he buried his face between your cheeks, his tongue delving into your hole with a lewd sound. his tongue pushed deeper inside you, spreading your rim as his thumb went back to circling your clit.

"mmm, sabes tan bien gatito," he rasped, pulling back for a moment to admire his handiwork. your poor asshole winked in the cool air, glistening with his saliva. "i can't wait to feel this little ass squeezing my cock." he punctuated his words by spanking your ass hard, leaving more handprints on your soft flesh. you yelped, trying to wriggle away like a snake would but he gripped your hips harder, holding you in place as he dove back in, his tongue plunging into your asshole with renewed fervor.

the masked man's other hand slid around to your dripping pussy, his fingers pushing two digits knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt. he pumped them in and out, palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. the combination of his tongue on your ass, and fingers in your pussy transformed your screams into wanton moans.

"aww, is the puta enjoying what i give to her, i knew you'd come around," you could tell he was smiling as his fingers curled inside your gummy walls. the tightening coil inside your gut finally snapped as your juices gushed around him, soaking his black t-shirt. he laughed out loud, shoving you back onto the ground, "look at you, you ruined my shirt." he placed each of his feet on either side of your trembling body, gazing down at the way your face was filled with smudged make-up. your whiskers all askew, mascara streaming down your face. he grabbed you by the collar you had on, twisting it as you gasped out loud, struggling to breathe once more. you felt yours leg give away, watching him drag you back to the living room as he threw you onto the couch.

"who.... who even are you- oh!" you squealed, feeling his hand come across your face. it burned and you feel the iron tang of blood flood your mouth, you lip busted from the impact. he grabbed hold of your jaw, using his other hand to adjust his mask before slapping you once again. you were sure your face was bruised when he finished, your lip swollen almost as if to silence you for the entire duration he had you in this cursed house.

"cat got your tongue?" he chuckled, caressing your burning cheek with his thumb. when you didn't respond, he dug through his pockets for his phone, snapping a picture of you shaking on the couch with tears streaming from your face. you shielded your eyes from the flash, and through your fingers you caught sight of his hair swept back. you recognized the silkiness of it. you knew this person, but you just couldn't understand where. before you could open your mouth to ask the same question that's been bothering you all night, you heard the click of a gun, the barrel pressed against your forehead. "i think you know what to do right now, right?"

you shook your head, your bottom lip quivering and the man in front of you laughed, using the barrel to wipe away your tears, the cold metal making you hiss. you gulped when he dug the gun into your neck, your body shaking as a new wave of tears washed over you. "you're going to fuck yourself on my gun. come on spread those legs."

his request made you freeze in place and when he placed the gun right onto a prominent artery in your neck, you whimpered and nodded your head, reluctantly spreading your legs.

"there we go," he cooed, "see, puta, you can learn."

he spit on the barrel of his gun, rubbing the saliva around before crouching down to see your womanhood clenching the air, bracing yourself for what was about to happen. you rubbed the barrel of the gun along your wet slit, the cold metal sending jolts of sensation through your core. you felt your juices on the metal barrel, making it slick and shiny as your dragged it over your clit and pushed it inside you. you whimpered, throwing your head back onto the couch as you stared at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that this was all another horrible nightmare.

"fuck, look at you, getting off on my gun," the masked man taunted, "you're even more depraved than I thought. sabía que eras una puta sucia, pero esto..." you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle a moan as you began to move, fucking yourself on the gun with very hesitant thrusts. "louder, you quiet little whore," the masked man scoffed, his other hand coming down on your inner thigh. you whined out loud, nodding your head and letting out small, forced moans. sensing that you were trying too hard to make noises, and pressed the metal deeper into you. a satisfied growl escaped his lips when you cried out loud, arching your back.

"fuck, that's too big... please, that's too big," you moaned, bucking your hips to push the barrel out of you but instead the masked man took the opportunity to drive it deeper inside you, pulling it out before slamming it right back in. you screamed out loud, feeling the gun stretch you open as the man snorted,

"scream for me, puta. i want to hear every single noise clearly."

your hips rocked back and forth, taking the gun as much as you could. you panted, tongue stuck out as the man shoved his fingers into your mouth, dragging the gun in and out of you with a much faster pace than before. you struggled to handle the girth of the gun, your eyes rolling the back of your head. he slapped your face gently so that your eyes snapped back to his masked face. the emptiness you faced scared you, it made you sob at how defiling this felt and yet you could feel your orgasm approaching once more. the smell of your arousal mixed with uncontrollable fear spread through the room, and he could feel your pussy fluttering around the barrel of the gun, your juices flowing freely as you fucked yourself into oblivion. your cunt spasmed around the barrel of the gun as you cummed, gushing your release over the cold metal. the masked man watched as your juices splattered onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath the couch.

"no puedo contenerme más, i need to feel you around my cock," the man moaned, unbuckling his belt. your still bound hands weakly thrashed once more, your eyes glossed over. your mind was spinning, still not over the last orgasm. the gun was tossed the side, and he grabbed hold of your jaw so that you faced him not the weapon that you just fucked. he fumbled with his zipper, shoving his pants down as he let his cock spring up, the sound of his member slapping against his stomach echoing in the room. you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off him; it was suffocating. you shook your head, trying to plead your way out of this. you already did everything else he asked for! you just wanted to go home and get ready for the halloween house contest tomorrow! he gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your abused flesh as he placed the swollen head of his cock against your sensitive clit. he smacked the tip against your pearl, watching you mewl out loud at oversensitivity. with one brutal thrust, he slammed his hips forward, burying his massive cock deep into your cunt. you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs, silent screams falling from your lips as he stretched you open, his thick shaft forcing its way past your gummy walls. tears streamed down your face as he began to move, fucking you hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

"this cunt was made to be ruined, made to milk my cock, hecha para ser mia" he growled, snapping his hips faster against you. the sound of skin against skin did little to calm you down, instead your ears rang and when he began to rub your clit, you were sobbing out loud at how everything felt... felt so good. your mind a dizzy mess, not following along with what was happening.

between moans you once again asked the million dollar question on your mind, "w-who are you? who are you?"

"come on mi vida," he scoffed, almost as if he was insulted that you kept asking the same question, "use that pretty brain of yours you know exactly who i am. i've seen the way you look at me." but as he drilled into your cunt, you really didn't know. you couldn't think, your brain on overdrive, too caught up with the sensation of his thick cock filling you up like the whore that you were. your let your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him further into you on instinct and he laughed, using his hands to pull his sweat-stained shirt over his head. his mask came off, and in the dark you could barely see the outline of his hand running through his silky hair.

"t-the mask, your mask," you whimpered, narrowing your eyes to try and focus on the voice. the outline of his jaw, you recognized him. you knew who it was, the name was on the tip of your tongue. quite suddenly, he pressed the mask against your face, hardly giving you enough room to breathe.

"you wanted to know who i am with my mask off, we can work in different ways hermosa, i'm not picky," the man snickered. your head was buried into the couch's cushions, and you could see black spots clouding what was left to see in the dark. as your final orgasm of the night shot through you, the man pulled the mask away from you and let you breathe as you screamed out loud, squirting all over his cock. he groaned out loud, emptying his load as he shot ropes of his cum inside your cunt. he loved the way your cunt clamped down on him, constricting him as he watched you create a new puddle of your juices onto the ground. he pulled out of you, watching his cum leak out of you. he caught hold of his phone again, zooming in to see your cream-pie'd cunt and when the flash took hold of the dark room, the last thing you saw before passing out was your sweet neighbor carlos grinning at your fucked out body.

it was late in the afternoon the next day when you finally came back to your sense. your entire body felt sore, as if you had been roasted alive over a wood of fire. with shaky legs, you stumbled out of your bedroom, looking around the living room. you were back in your house, but you didn't know how. you still felt the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and your head was throbbing in pain. the doorbell to your door rang and you glanced out the window to see carlos there with a bag of chocolates. you scowled, remembering how he towered over you the night before. not wanting to be too suspicious, you opened the door and stood there with a very worried expression on your face.

"carlos... how... nice to see you," you whispered, gulping.

"ah, hermosa! i'm so glad you're doing better! you know last night, the craziest thing happened! i was coming to pick you up for the halloween party but ever the eager girl, you fell from your ladder and hit your head!" he shook his head, "mi niña torpe, you can never go a day without hurting yourself!"

"i fell off a ladder?" you asked, tilting your head.

"yeah! you hit your face pretty badly," he winced, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. the warmth of his palm made you moan a bit, closing your eyes in relief. you and your vivid nightmares. your sweet neighbor would never do this to you! he was always looking out for you. you almost wanted to mention the bad dream, but then remembered how he got offended the last time you revealed what happened when you were asleep. you decided to keep your mouth shut and invited him into your house, taking the bag of chocolates.

"the halloween house contest will start soon," you grinned, limping to the couch to sit down. "you should sit down carlos, we have a few hours before the kids arrive. maybe you could help me organize the goodie bags!"

when you looked up, you saw him towering over you. he ran a hand through his hair, tossing the tv remote in his hand a couple times before dragging it down your neck,

"we have time, mi vida, we can spend time together alone until then," and he watched you furrow your brows, starting to understand what he was hinting towards, "you want to watch a horror movie?"

[octuscle]

Exchange student: Athens (GA)

Benjamin was not particularly happy that he had come to Georgia as an exchange student. Athens... He had wanted something in New England. Or at least in California. But he hadn't been able to choose. Athens had taken him.

The introductory week had been a disappointment. His fellow students were almost exclusively from the neighborhood, the boys were interested in football and hunting rifles, the girls in boys. It was all so clichéd that it was hard to express. But there was actually a very good grand piano in the assembly hall and Benjamin had been given permission to use it for his daily exercises after a short audition. He had not yet met his roommate. He wasn't due to return to university until a week later because of some family business. Benjamin was hoping for someone who was also interested in classical music and expressionism. Or at least someone who was also studying literature, art history or something similar.

It was the night from Saturday to Sunday when the door opened with a huge crash at around 02:00. Someone threw a duffel bag onto the bed and turned on the light. Benjamin blinked startled at the sudden light. He couldn't see anything against the light. But it smelled of sweat and a few other things he couldn't identify. The shadow took off his shirt, threw it on the floor and sat down on the other bed. Benjamin's eyes adjusted to the light and he began to recognize something.

"Well howdy, you must be Ben. I'm Hunter, no lie, that's my name, partner. Shoo, it ain't even 2 o'clock yet. What in tarnation are ya doin' in bed?" Benjamin was disgusted. He would have to share the room with a redneck. He turned around and mumbled, “Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to sleep.” Hunter just said, “Well, that’s on you if ya overlook somethin’, darlin’,” rummaged in his duffel bag and disappeared again. It must have been around 04:00 when he returned. Now it also smelled of booze. Benjamin pretended to be asleep, even though Hunter was making a lot of noise. After he had finished clearing out his things, Benjamin heard him burp loudly a few more times. And soon he was snoring.

When Benjamin's alarm clock rang at 07:00, Hunter was still snoring. He was lying naked on the comforter. Benjamin had to admit with envy that he was well trained. His butt was firm. His upper body was deeply tanned and Hunter was pale below the waist. A guy who worked out in the fresh air. Benjamin's cock got hard. He quickly grabbed his scrubs and headed for the washrooms. He wanted to be at the Georgia Museum of Art early. When he returned to his room, freshly showered, Hunter was lying awake on his bed. Jerking off his morning wood. “Well, howdy there, early riser! Ain't that somethin'! You fixin' to hit the pavement for a run?” Benjamin turned around, embarrassed. Because he didn't want to disturb Hunter while he was wanking. And because his own cock was leaking precum into his boxer shorts. “No thanks, I wanted to go to the museum.” “Real neat, we got one 'round these parts? Been here a whole year and didn’t even know. Might just tag along next time, if y'know what I mean.” “That would be nice,” Benjamin replied as he hurriedly got dressed and left the room. He had to go to the washrooms again before he went to the museum. He really needed to wank. He thought about Hunter.

He wasn't really focused in the museum. At the beginning, he made sketches of the halls and the works of art on display. He was actually surprised by the quality. There were top-class works here. But when he caught himself doodling a stag in his notebook the third time, he decided that he would probably be better off getting some fresh air. He took his rucksack out of his locker and left the museum. The fresh air did him good. Benjamin walked along Campus Road. He passed the Georgia Museum of Natural History. It was still early. He went inside.

Natural history wasn't really his hobby. But Benjamin was fascinated by the dioramas of the local animal world. He enthusiastically made sketches of the deer. Why the hell had he already made them at the art museum? And why were the deer he was drawing now often hunted prey? He probably just couldn't get Hunter out of his head. He was getting a hard-on again. Benjamin made his way back to the dormitory. Hunter and he hadn't got off to a good start. But now he would like to put that right.

"Down at th’ park wit’ the boys, tossin’ sum balls ‘round. Y’all come on by if ya wanna join!" The note was on Ben's pillow. There was a lot else lying around the room. It was as if a bomb had gone off. Hunter was obviously not the tidiest of people. There was a camouflage T-shirt on the floor. Benjamin pressed it to his face. It smelled of sweat and masculinity. He couldn't help it. He had to jerk off again. This time it came with unexpected force. Shit, on the floor, on the bed, his cum was everywhere. He took one of his dirty towels from the laundry basket and tried to clean it up as best he could. And then he made his way to the park. He had to watch Hunter play football with his buddies.

Benjamin had to search a bit to find Hunter and his friends. But it was worth it. A gang of young rednecks in the prime of their youth, on their way to becoming real men. Their muscles were glistening with sweat, their mullets sticking wet to their heads. “Yo, Ben!” Hunter shouted when he saw Benjamin. Benjamin was amazed that Hunter had recognized him. Hunter ran up to him and did a fist bump, which Benjamin returned somewhat awkwardly. “Hey there, what in tarnation are ya doin’ just standin’ ‘round like a bump on a log? Get yourself changed and hit that field!” Benjamin said that he had nothing to change into. “Floyd, you knucklehead! You got your gym gear?” Hunter yelled across the pitch. He, who was presumably Floyd, yelled back “Sure thing!”. Hunter went to a bag and threw it to Benjamin. “Here ya go, this oughta fit ya, Big fella!” Benjamin was a little embarrassed to just change in the open field. But there was no turning back now. The last time he had played football was five years ago. And he had been bad. Really bad. Now he was standing on a field in sweaty, oversized clothes belonging to a guy he didn't know called Floyd and had to play football with a guy he hardly knew, but had already wanked off on twice today. The ball flew towards him. Benjamin caught it with a leap. “To me!” roared Hunter. And with a powerful and precise pass, the ball flew to Hunter. “Bloody hell!” thought Benjamin.

The sun was about to set. The boys were lying on the grass, drinking some kind of isotonic thirst quencher. They had all taken off their shirts. Hunter's head was on Benjamin's stomach. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, buddy! You best be chowin' down more and hittin' them weights less. That belly of yours ain’t got no softness to cuddle up to!” “In your dreams!” replied Benjamin, tousling Hunter's wet hair. Damn, he was well on his way to becoming a jock... Benjamin and Hunter spent the evening together, when the sun went down, they went to the movies and then out for a burger. Benjamin had never spent a Sunday like this before. It felt wrong. But it felt so good!

The next morning, Hunter's alarm clock rang at 05:30. “Dude, running and gym!” he said as he shook Benjamin awake. Benjamin had done more sport yesterday than he had ever done in his life. But without argument, he put on Floyd's dirty and sweaty clothes and the two of them set off. Benjamin actually had his first lecture at 08:30. English poetry of the 19th century. But he couldn't leave Hunter to bench press on his own. And so it was 09:00 when he arrived in the lecture hall. In his sweaty gym clothes. Without his homework. His professor asked him to join her after the lecture to explain to him clearly that this was not the performance she expected. And that he would stink. Benjamin raised his arm and took a deep breath from his armpit. “You're damn right,” he said, nodding appreciatively. His cell phone vibrated. “Fucc dude, 4got my laptop.  Bring it by, bruh. Warnell school of 4estry and natural resources” Benjamin knew where that was. Behind the natural history museum. Next lecture wasn't for another hour. Benjamin sprinted home, grabbed the computer from Hunter's desk and ran into the department. “I'm at the entrance, bro,” he wrote. ‘Cum 2 the library,’ Hunter replied. Benjamin followed the signs. Floyd was waiting outside the library. “Hey y'all, thanks a million! You’re a real lifesaver for Hunter and me. And I gotta say, them clothes are lookin' sharp. And that mullet? Pure gold!” Benjamin blushed and said that he would do the washing today and Floyd would bring the clothes back clean tomorrow. Floyd laughed and said that they had only been on for a week, a bit early to wash them. Benjamin joined in the laughter and headed off to his next lecture. Bloody hell, what had Floyd said. Mullet? What mullet? He ran his fingers through his hair sweaty from running. It was sticking to the back of his neck. Benjamin searched for a window pane to look at his reflection. Shit, he had a similar hairstyle to the boys.

Tuesday morning was Hunter and Ben's first lecture, “Ecosystems and Habitat management” in Professor Castleberry's Wildlife Ecology and Management class. They both got quite a telling off for missing the first lecture the previous week. Hunter's excuse was that he couldn't leave his parents' hunting lodge because of the storm. The story of how the bridge had been washed away sounded super realistic. Ben had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud. He knew that Hunter simply hadn't wanted to leave without killing the big stag. Ben's excuse was less original. The fact that he was wrongly enrolled in art history and literature led to great laughter in the lecture hall. A guy with “corn-fed Midwestern boy” literally tattooed on his forehead couldn't be in a worse place than in a lecture on 19th century English poetry. Luckily, the two best buddies were given two adjacent seats. They hadn't showered after the gym today either. Very few of their fellow students wanted to sit next to them. But it was their lucky day anyway. Although the registration deadline had actually already passed, they both still got a place on the excursion to the “Population biology and ecology” field trip at the weekend. They could hardly wait for Friday. Finally a chance to get some fresh air and hopefully a good piece of game. Their hunting rifles were already threatening to rust.

A few of his fellow students knew that his real name was Ben. But everyone here called him Buck. Hunter and Buck. It just went together. The two of them studied together, pumped iron together, played football together. They hunted together. And yes, they also fucked together. But only without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

Pics by @ki-kink

[heartbeerry]

i got a soft spot for you / r. c | part three

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

part one / part two / part three (end)

cw: exes to lovers, angst, rafe redemption arc, brief mentions of alcohol/substances, some swearing, there's sweet and fluffy reconciliation at the end.

summary: y/n breaks up with rafe due to his problem with alcohol/substances. summer passes by and they find themselves at the same place one night. rafe is determined to prove he's changed for the better.

inspiration: soft spot by keshi

♫ don't like anybody, tell me why it's different with you

don't believe in love, but no one makes me feel like you do... ♫

. . .

the following morning

sunlight poured into rafe’s bedroom, stirring him from a restless sleep.

the remnants of his dream flittered behind his eyes, glimpses of you played on like his own personal film.

you teaching rafe how to bake your favourite cookies. staying up all night on your roof to stargaze. that road trip you took to the west coast.

your last kiss . . .

if rafe thought hard enough, he could still feel your lips on his. the scent of your perfume. the adoring look in your eyes.

he turned onto his side, shying away from the light of day.

his heart felt heavy, his mind weighed down by his encounter with you the night before. he lazily opened his eyes.

on impulse, he slid his hand underneath the adjacent pillow. the side where you always slept.

under it, stashed safely away, was a framed photo of the two of you from your first date. rafe had taken you sailing. he had been so excited that he woke up at sunrise to wax his boat.

the photo showed you tucked under his arm as you blew a kiss into the camera. rafe hadn't bothered to look into the lens, instead keeping his eyes trained on you.

he could recite everything that happened on that date, it was one of his favourite memories after all. that day had been the beginning of you.

rafe sat up and brought his body to the edge of the bed, frame still in hand. a ghost of a smile played on his lips as he willed time to reverse so that he could spend this day with you again.

a deafening knock at the door made rafe nearly jump out of his skin.

unfortunately, the shock was enough for his grip to falter, sending the frame tumbling to the hardwood floor.

“shit.”

he groaned at the sight of the fractured pieces laying at at his feet.

“rafe! are you up yet? it’s almost noon - ” sarah cameron’s voice chimed, the bedroom door swinging open. she stilled, her gaze surveying the scene in front of her.

rafe was on his knees, tenderly picking up the shards of glass.

realization dawned on sarah when she saw the photograph of you and rafe clasped between his fingers. her heart broke for him.

despite the troubled past between rafe and herself, sarah had always held a part of you close. you were like the big sister she never had.

“oh god. i’m sorry, did i startle you?” the worry in sarah’s voice was enough to bring rafe back to reality.

on the path to becoming a better person, he was also working towards repairing the relationships with his younger sisters.

become a better person for himself. for his family. for you.

“uhm, no it’s okay. i just…” rafe didn’t know how to finish the sentence. a hard lump was unexpectedly forming in his throat.

with light trepidation, sarah entered the bedroom, her eyes filled with empathy.

“do you,” she hesitated, leaning against rafe’s wardrobe. “wanna talk about it?” she could see the turmoil brewing in his eyes.

“i saw y/n last night,” rafe announced. “at the sandbar.”

sarah’s eyes widened in response.

“wait, you went out drinking?”

rafe carefully placed your photo on his nightstand before turning to sarah, the mess momentarily forgotten.

“no,” he pushed out an exasperated breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the guys dragged me out. i didn’t drink, promise.”

relief flooded sarah as she motioned for him to continue.

“i saw y/n… dancing with this little jackass who ended up insulting her in front of me and — “

“woah! you got in a fight?” she interrupted once more.

rafe brought his palm to his forehead before running it down his face.

“no, sarah. i was just there… ya know, if she needed me. she told him off,” rafe finished, finally casting a sidelong glance at his sister.

“so, you basically just looked like a complete fool,” sarah hummed, holding up a finger to signal she’d be back in a second.

rafe groaned and plopped back onto his bed.

he was the absolute biggest fool.

seconds later, sarah returned with a broom and dust pan. she padded over to the broken glass and opted to sweep it up.

“god,” rafe let out a breath. “i wish i could just see her again. i couldn’t even get one coherent sentence out.”

sarah finished cleaning, tossing the contents of the dust pan into the waste basket found in the corner, before settling down next to rafe.

“look,” she mulled over the pep talk in her head.

“i get that. you regret squandering your one opportunity to speak with her. but who is to say you won’t get another?” she quirked an eyebrow.

rafe grunted, the notion feeling impossible.

“you have been doing so well these past few months, rafe,” sarah said earnestly.

the sincerity in her voice made rafe turn to her, slightly amazed at her honesty.

“i can see how hard you’re trying,” she continued. “when it comes to y/n, you need to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons — not just because you miss her. but because you want to improve and grow, for the both of you.”

“this is not about just missing her,” rafe’s voice wavered as he pieced together his words. it's as if he was finally gaining the clarity he needed.

“i want to be the one she can rely on, the one she feels safe with, the one she feels proud of. i don’t think there are enough lifetimes to right my wrongs but i’ll spend this one doing everything i can to show her how much i fucking love — ”

“i’ve never heard you say you love me.”

and when it finally dawned on rafe cameron, his world splintered.

because before you, rafe didn’t believe in love. until you, no one else could make him feel such a way.

how on earth could he expect you to know he loved you if he never found the courage to say it?

that he was irrevocably, unequivocally in love with you.

he was thrust back onto his porch, on that gloomy morning as you stood opposite to him with your whole life packed up. your life with him.

“. . . her,” rafe finished his sentence in the softest of whispers, sarah had to crane her neck to catch it. his eyes were brimming with a fresh swell of tears.

sarah's face softened, feeling an overwhelming sense to hug her brother. so, for the first time in a long time, she embraced him.

taken aback, rafe cleared his throat and lightly patted her on the shoulder. they stayed like that for just a few seconds before he pulled away, a plan forming in his mind.

“sarah… do you think you’d be able to help me — ” rafe didn’t finish, because sarah had already leapt from the bed in excitement.

“profess your love? oh most definitely.”

one week later

your latte had grown cold, left neglected on the corner table you occupied outside your favourite café.

the sun was setting and you had been perched on the patio for a few hours now, trying to read.

the words seemed to float off the page and you couldn’t process where you were in the plot, your mind preoccupied with a familiar pair of blue eyes.

seeing rafe for the first time since your breakup had left you dizzy with emotion. you had held your guard up for so long... afraid of facing your feelings.

with each passing day, the gnawing sensation in your stomach grew, a persistent reminder of how you had spoken to him. the words you'd tossed at him in frustration now felt harsher than you intended, leaving your wounds to split open.

he had told you he was getting better. it sounded so real, so true. maybe you should have at least given him an opportunity to prove it.

the way he had looked at you that night, it stirred something deep within you. he had regarded you with so much yearning and yet...

you groaned, circling your fingertips into your temples.

even after everything; the lies and broken trust, the way things ended so abruptly — you couldn’t deny the tether that tied you to him.

he had a certain knack for making you feel like the world weighed just a little lighter, as if he would hold up the sky just for you.

deep in thought, you hadn’t realized that your phone was ringing.

you hurried to pick up the call before your voicemail did, not bothering to look at the caller id.

“hello?”

you heard weeping on the other end.

“y/n? hey. i’m so sorry — i just didn’t know who else to call,” sarah cameron spoke in between sobs.

“sarah? are you okay — what’s wrong?” you clambered to your feet, shoving your belongings into your tote bag.

“i got into a fight with john b,” she choked out, the phone cracking with feedback. “can i see you, please?”

slapping a few bills on the table, you exited the café and stepped into the street.

“yes, of course. where are you? i’ll come to you.” you said soothingly.

“i’m just at the marina,” sarah replied.

“the marina? i’m actually pretty close. i’ll see you soon, okay? did you want me to stay on the line — ” your question was cut short by the dial tone.

worry rose within you, so you decided to pick up the pace and broke into a light jog.

-

the sun had dipped under the horizon by the time you reached the marina.

you meandered down the dock, eyes scanning the boats bobbing in the water.

you grabbed your phone from your back pocket, calling sarah again.

as the phone rang, you spotted a a source of light emulating from the end of the row. could that be her?

she picked up on the fourth ring as you decided to make your way towards the glow.

“hey, i’m here! where are you?”

“y/n, i’m sorry,” sarah replied, voice free of any trace of tears. “i’m okay. there was no fight, i just needed you to head down to the docks for something…” sarah paused. “important.”

the call ended before you could respond. bringing the phone down from your ear, a wave of relief rolled over you at the confirmation sarah was okay but...

you felt absolutely silly, barking out a disbelieving laugh.

"these camerons are going to send me to an early grave," you begin pacing, mumbling incoherently. "i swear to everything, the heart palpitations alone, i just - "

your baffled mirthlessness warped into puzzlement when, out of nowhere, you began to hear the notes of your favourite song play.

"okay, i was joking about the early grave, please tell me no one is going to jump out and pull a chainsaw on me," you laughed humourlessly, balling your hands into fists... just in case.

"i knew that texas chainsaw massacre marathon would haunt you for the rest of your days," a silhouette emerged a few feet in front of you, one you had grown to recognize instantly.

your shoulders shrank in relief, yet your face burned with abashment.

“rafe…” you exhaled, your heart thrumming in your chest. "what are you doing here?"

he was wearing a fitted blue long-sleeve tee and straight cut jeans. leave it to him to look effortlessly cool while you were being reduced to a puddle.

you held his intense gaze before his eyes raked over you, a glimmer of hope hidden there.

“y/n… i’m sorry,” he said, taking a step towards you. you were rooted in place, feeling the force drawing you into him.

“i wasn't sure how i could get you here. i asked for sarah's help but i didn’t think she was going to be so - ”

“dramatic?” you finished with a snort. rafe’s eyebrows rose in amusement at the ease of which you were conversing.

a beat passed. you cleared your throat.

noticing your hesitation, rafe extended his hand to you, his gaze pleading.

"i know i don't deserve it... but could you please follow me? i have a surprise for you."

his outstretched hand hovered between you. the pull in your chest willed you to take it.

you made the decision to hear him out, the look on his face reason enough.

rafe intertwined your fingers, relishing in the warmth of your touch, before leading you towards the light that had caught your eye when you first arrived.

by the time you reached the end of the dock, nothing could have prepared you for the scene that unfolded before you.

rafe's sailboat had been transformed.

a plethora of winding fairy lights crawled up the mast and rafe had even woven your favourite flowers into the strands.

a stereo sat on the deck playing the playlist you made for rafe when you first started dating. next to it, a plush blanket was rolled out, and covering it was an abundant spread of all your preferred foods, drinks and sweets.

to top it all off, as if this couldn't possibly get any more romantic, rafe had strung all of the film you had taken of yourselves during your time together along the boat's railing.

you hadn't realized you had dropped rafe's hand to cover your gaping mouth. he seized this moment to hop down onto the deck, guiding you to follow suit.

once you did, still speechless, he motioned for you to sit down on the blanket. he fell to his knees in front of you, taking a shaky breath.

tears prickled your eyes as he cleared his throat, a bid of determination shone in his features.

"y/n. you know i'm not one for words," he started, giving you a lopsided grin to ease the tension.

"but i'm going to try my best, for you. i think... i think i want to first tell you that i'm clean. i have been since we..." he stalled. "i meant what i said outside the bar. i am better."

"why did it take us breaking up to make you finally get clean, rafe?" you croaked, feeling betrayed by the quiver in your voice.

"no, no, baby. please don't even think of blaming yourself." he corrected. "the break up tore me apart. i felt utterly lost without you. i had a major wakeup call... where i finally realized what i was putting you through. i pushed you away constantly when you were just trying to help. for that, i would crawl on my hands and knees apologizing for until we die."

rafe paused to read your face.

"and even after that, into the next life." he brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, a silent tear having escaped your eye.

you nodded, your resolve evaporating. the vulnerability of rafe's voice, the raw honesty he was baring, set your heart alight.

he was mere inches from your face, leveling your gaze.

"and y/n?" he continued, voice thick with fervour.

"i know there are things i can't take back, no matter how deeply I wish i could. all those broken promises will act as a reminder for me to do better by you each and everyday. but i will make one vow to you now. i promise… i want to be by your side, and i have no intention of ever leaving."

you stilled, transfixed by his confession.

"god, y/n. you've got me wrapped around your finger," rafe moves his hands to cup your face. "you've changed my heart. it's all yours."

you lean into him, your need to be close overwhelming.

"i am so fucking in love with you."

somehow, rafe cameron finds a way to top every sentence.

"i have been since i first took you out on this sailboat. i'm an idiot for never telling you before."

a beat passes before he presses his forehead to yours.

"what i said that morning. i was hurt... you never said it, but i knew you loved me," you whispered before you felt his shoulders drop with bewildered relief.

if he angled his head, his lips would meet yours. he was letting you decide. before you put him out of his misery, you released a gentle breath.

"i saw it in the way you hid cute notes around the house telling me how pretty i am, remembering the plot of the book i was reading. hell, even leaving an umbrella by the door on a rainy day cause you knew i would forget to check the weather."

he chuckled, pulling away briefly to catch the twinkle in your eye.

“and now this?” you gestured to the dazzling lights and photos. “i love you, rafe."

and that was all he needed.

rafe captured your lips in his and the world righted itself.

you instinctively brought your hands to drape around his neck, pulling him into you. he hummed against your mouth as you moved in sync, savouring the taste of him.

your heart was brimming with happiness. with a new promise.

soon, you were both panting as he pulled away. his lips were swollen and his cheeks flushed.

at that moment, you fell just a little more in love with the man in front of you, if that was even possible.

rafe broke out into the widest smile and you returned it with one to match.

"y/n, i've got such a soft spot for you."

- the end -

taglist: @drewsphswife @drewwhor @emmafitzzz @despressoslatte

a/n: hello! so sorry for the slow update on the final part. i didn’t like the first draft i had written up, so i decided to change it. i hope that this is a conclusion you all enjoy! this is the first fan fiction i’ve posted to tumblr, and my return to writing more frequently. thank you all for the support i’ve received on this story so far!

p.s: i attempted to tag a few people that left kind comments on my previous posts, so hopefully that works! i’m still learning how to use this app. 🙂‍↕️

[scribbly-artist]

Someone To Take Care Of

Summary: You’ve had awful back pain all day at work, and nothing you tried could remedy it. You’ve come home late on top of it. You’ve come home to your partner, Jayce, who wants to help melt your pain away.

Author’s Notes: I was very sad and in an immense amount of pain that kept me awake at 2am this morning, so fuck it, self indulgent fic. We also discussed tickly massages in the server and that’s all I was wishing for when I was kept awake from the pain. 😔 Other cramp and pain-havers, I hope you enjoy this one.

Words: ~1,000 | AO3 Link

The moon was already high in the sky once you arrived at your front doorstep. Your back had been aching all day, no matter how many painkillers you took at work, nothing seemed to ease the pain. You were so exhausted after the very long day you had, you were just ready to crawl into bed and sleep at this point. But you still had dinner to make…

You went to shove your keys into the front door lock, but noticed that the door was already unlocked when you twisted the handle. God, were you that late that Jayce was already home? The workaholic Jayce??

You pushed the door open, closing and locking the door as you proceeded to dump your outside belongings and shoes at the door. You could smell the aroma of food, following the scent as it led you through the entranceway to the kitchen. Jayce, your partner, was at the stove cooking your dinner for tonight. You snuck up behind him quietly, snaking your arms around his waist as you slumped your head on the back of his shoulder.

“You’re home late,” he commented, swishing the dinner he was preparing in the pan skillfully. “Are you feeling alright? Was work okay today?”

“I’m so tired… my back has been hurting all day… no matter what I did, it wouldn’t go away…” you mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter.

He moved the pan off the heat as he turned around, giving you a nice squeeze. You always adored his hugs.

“I’m nearly done – let me finish up here, and I’ll help you with the pain. How does that sound?” He pulled away, cupping the side of your face with his hand.

“No, no Jayce, it’s alright–”

Jayce brought a finger to your lips, stopping you in your tracks.

“I can see you're hurting. Please, let me help. I want to take care of you.” His eyes were filled with loving concern.

…well, you couldn't say no to that face.

You sat at the kitchen table, watching him cook and then clean the space, putting the food away once he was done. He grabbed you by the hand with a smile on his face, a small smile appearing on yours, leading you to your shared bedroom.

You sat down on the bed, and he followed suit. He placed a hand on your shoulder with a nudge. “Lay down, I’ll give you a massage that'll melt that pain away.”

“Thank you, love…” you replied with a shy smile, laying face down on the bed, the soft pillows comforting you. Jayce towered over you to get into position, rolling up your shirt to expose your back. He made sure his hands were warm before he began, rubbing them together and then touching down on your skin.

Jayce has given you massages before, just because he wanted to treat you or make you feel better. You always forget just how good he is with his hands. He rubbed tender circles into your lower back, and with such simple touches you were already melting. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let out a satisfied groan.

“Did I ever tell you how good you are at this…?” You mused aloud.

That got a chuckle out of Jayce. “You tell me every time, hun.”

If only you could have dragged Jayce to your work today – you wouldn't have had to deal with this pain all day. You were mumbling and making noises as he continued, his hands travelling up your back. However, once Jayce reached your shoulder blades a laugh escaped you as you jerked upwards a bit.

Jayce stopped for a moment. “Sorry, did it tickle? I forgot you're so sensitive,” he remarked with a laugh. “Do you want me to go somewhere else?”

“No… no, that's fine…” you turned your head a bit so you could look at him. Your face went a little bit red seeing his. “Actually, I don't mind it… if it tickles a little…”

A smirk reached Jayce’s face at first. Then it wavered back into a fond smile. “Okay. I'll make sure it doesn't tickle too much. I still want you to relax.”

Jayce’s touch grew lighter, dragging his fingertips across your skin instead of his thumbs. You started sleepily giggling. It wasn't too extreme that you wanted to bolt up, but it left nice tingles all across your skin. It was very comforting. He dragged patterns from your shoulders to the base of your neck, to your shoulder blades, all the way down your spine to your lower back. You were putty in his hands.

“Thihihis ihihis soho nihihice…” you couldn't help but giggle your words out quietly.

“If this is all I have to do to make you relax, I should be doing it more often, hmm?”

No spot on your back was left untouched. He even dragged his fingers up and down the side of your ribs and sides just to hear you giggle a little more. His heart swelled knowing that you were at peace at his doing, his touch. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Once he stopped, he gave you a gentle pat on the back. “Think that's enough?”

“Yehehes… I feheheel so much behehetter…” your eyes felt heavy, nearly closing as you spoke and snuggled into the pillow.

Jayce shifted so he could get up, gently tugging your shirt down for you. “I'll heat the dinner back up for you. No need to get up, I'll bring it to you.”

A sleepy smile was pressed onto your face. But before Jayce walked away, your hand caught his wrist. “Thank you so much, Jayce… I love you… ” you breathed out.

Jayce gave you a warm, loving smile as he paced back over, placing a hand on your head to stroke your soft hair.

“I love you, too. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

[spicyspiders]

Sam x Reader smut where they finish researching for the night but Sam’s frustrated over not having found something, so his bf gives him a little pamper and stres relief before bed. Aftercare appreciated! Praise kink ++

There isn't really any aftercare, but I hope you still like it.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with me?” Dean asked from the doorway, one foot already out the door.

You shook your head, “nah, I’ll just stay here.” You were happy to stay at the motel with Sam and research, but one of the things you didn’t like was the old books you would have to find to see if they had what you were looking for. There was just something about the old book dust that made your skin crawl and made you immediately want to wash your hands with the hottest water and the strangest soap you could find. 

“Make sure Sam doesn’t get up to any trouble,” Dean replied, his eyes flicking over your shoulder where Sam sat hunched over a book.

You stood up straight and raised a hand to your forehead, “yes sir,” you said, saluting the man.

The laugh Dean let out grew louder when you say his eyes look back over your shoulder again. You looked back but quickly turned back around at the sight of Sam’s glare. Your hands were still kind of damp from washing them, making you wonder if you ran them down the outfit Dean put together to go to the bar and dry them, it would make Sam smile. 

Dean clapped a hand on your shoulder before he was out the door, the sound of his laughter following him.

You locked the door as you could hear the rumble of the Impala outside. You hoped Dean remembered to take the key to your room with him. 

“You could’ve gone with him, you know,” Sam said softly, looking down at the book. His hair was the longest you’ve seen it, nearly past his eyebrows in a shaggy mop. It was always so soft each and every time you ran your fingers through it.

“And watch Dean flirt for hours on end?” you asked, pulling a chuckle out of Sam. You walked up to stand beside his chair, one of his arms wrapping around your waist so he could pull your body against his, “still haven’t found anything?” You questioned softly down at him, one of your hands brushing the brown strands off his forehead. 

The action gave you the perfect view of his eyes as they gave you that sad, puppy dog look, you’ve grown fond of. “No,” Sam responded gruffly, his voice full of frustration.   

“Let’s take a-”

Sam moved away, your hand falling from his hair, “don’t,” he said, looking back down at the book.

It broke your heart a little when you felt Sam’s arm loosen around your body, “Sam,” you tried again, “we’ve been at this since the sun was up and now it’s nearly midnight.”

A few moments of silence went by before Sam finally responded, “I know,” he breathed, holding his face in his hands, “I’m just,” his hands fell away, “frustrated,” he said down into the pages of the book, like if he spoke to them, they would magically give him the answers he needed. 

“I know,” you reach for a bookmark on the motel room’s desk. You thought it was going to break earlier when Sam set down all of the books he checked out from the local library, and the old wood made a noise of protest from just closing the book that sat in front of Sam. “Let’s take a break until the morning,” you said, grabbing at Sam’s arm to get him up from the chair and away from the desk, like you were afraid it was going to break any minute and all of the books would come crashing down on his lap. 

“Sit,” you told him as you guided him the few steps to the edge of the bed you would be sharing tonight. Sam looked up at you expectantly, fixing you with that same puppy dog look. You let out a small laugh and leaned down to press your lips to his softly, feeling satisfied upon pulling away and seeing Sam’s smile. 

You head to the bathroom to turn the shower on quickly, knowing that you probably didn’t have much time with hot water. Yeah, at least you had a place to sleep while on hunts, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t complain about the showers in these cheap motels. 

To your delight, Sam was already halfway undressed in the few minutes that it took you to turn the shower on. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be too distracted by the skin on display to get the clothes you would change into after your shower. 

“Hey,” Sam said, his head snapping up to look at you, “I- uh, wanted to get a headstart,” his fingers paused from where they were unbuttoning his jeans, his face growing red.

“Don’t let me stop you,” you murmured, laughing softly as you went to grab your clothes and definitely did not steal a peak at the trail of hair that led into Sam’s jeans.

On your way back to the bathroom, the clothing and towels you need in hand, Sam follows hot on your tail. You place your pile of clothes onto the toilet seat before helping Sam get the rest of his clothes off. 

The shower sure as hell wasn’t made for two people, let alone a man that towers over six feet tall and is broad and well built, but you make it work. And make it work in the best way possible you did. 

Through the steam, your lips found each other in a heated kiss that was as warm as the water cascading down your bodies. Like you had anywhere to go in the tight space, Sam held your body flush against his. His tongue mapped out the cavern of your mouth like he wasn’t already all too familiar with it already. 

The kiss breaks with a moan, the sound bouncing off the walls. You weren’t even sure who made the noise, but another soon follows the first when you grind your hips forward. The water made Sam’s skin slick and warm, making it easy to repeat the motion over and over again. You’re tempted to push your cock in between the slick channel of his toned thighs, but you knew you had Sam to gladly take care of.

Or better yet, an idea popped into your head to have Sam take care of the both of you. Not knowing how long you had alone together, you had to be quick. 

You pull away from yet another kiss, nipping at Sam’s bottom lip when he tries to follow. You grab one of his hands and move it between your legs, “good boy,” you say loud enough for Sam to hear over the spray. 

Pleased with yourself, you watch Sam bite his lip and hear the sound of his low whimper over the rush of water hitting the wall. “That’s good, Sam,” you moan as he strokes your cocks together with his broad hand. 

Your lips meet in a wet kiss, tongues tangling together a second later. Once pulled away, you lean forward to wrap your lips around one of Sam’s nipples. You hoped you weren’t going to be kicked out of the motel for noise complaints when you hear the sound of Sam’s moan, the loud noise echoing off the walls. 

Sam’s other broad palm makes its way to the back of your head when you move onto the other. You moan around the nipple in your mouth when Sam picks up the pace, the vibrations rumbling the sensitive skin around your lips. 

You pull off his nipple with a gasp, feeling the tell-tale sign of your orgasm building, “Sam,” you say in warning. “Making me feel so good,” you moan, your hips pushing into the hand around your cock. 

“Yeah?” Sam asks, his voice high with pleasure, “m’close,” he moans, his hand tightening around your cocks. 

You bite into the meat of Sam’s pec to muffle your loud moans when you cum, the mess of it being washed away down the drain. You run your tongue along the skin, trying to soothe the redness your teeth brought to the surface. 

You feel Sam’s body jerk against your tongue moments later, his hand going still as he shoots ropes of white between your bodies. He wraps his arms around your body to pull your bodies flush, resting his weight on yours. 

Sam’s body stays lax, making it easy to clean him off with the cheap motel soap. You’re careful when washing Sam’s sensitive cock, cleaning it with soft strokes of your soapy fingers. 

The water starts growing cold once you’ve moved onto cleaning your body, “fuck,” you hiss when it hits your skin. 

Sam’s hands moving around your body protectively. He pulls you into his broad chest, his hands running along your body to get you both out as fast as possible. 

“Come on,” Sam says once you’re both clean, his teeth chattering softly.

Toweling off could’ve gone quicker, but it’s hard to do when you’re stealing quick kisses. Drying Sam’s hair ends up being your favorite part, making you laugh at how messy his hair looks after you’ve pulled the towel away. 

You try your best to style it in the way Sam likes once you’ve pulled your clothes on, but end up messing it up once more when you pull him in by the hair for another kiss.  

[artstennisracket]

since artrick rekindles a few months before the pandemic, do you have any quarantined art/patrick ideas?

maybe the got stuck in a hotel away from tashi and lily and had to spend it just the two of them! bc they haven’t lived together for more than a decade, they noticed new/different things about the other!

this was such smart thinking cuz I registered that new rochelle was 2019 but it didn’t really hit me that it was like right before covid. I hope you enjoy!!!!

cw: just yapping fr, a little fluffy i suppose

They had just finished up training that day on their home court. Well, Patrick was training. Art was more supervising since Tashi was preoccupied at fashion week in Paris. She went with Lily and her mom to make her work trip into more of a girls trip. Now that Art was retired, he filled in on coaching Patrick whenever Tashi had other commitments.

The day before Tashi, Lily, and her mom were scheduled to come back home to LA from Paris but their flight was delayed until it was eventually canceled. Art and Patrick were chilling in their bedroom when they got a text to their group chat, not coming home tonight flights canceled because of covid? extending our hotel stay.

The boys didn’t think much of it, at most they assumed the girls would be back within the week. They were so wrong.

They absentmindedly had the news on the TV in the background, until Patrick turned the volume up. Global pandemic? Quarantine? It’s like-

“-the whole world is shutting down? i didn’t realize this was that serious.” Patrick says

Art looks up from his phone, tuning in “oh wow, they’re also stopping all air travel so that means the girls will be in Paris for a while.”

“wait that’s insane.” Patrick says, eyes glued to the TV.

“ya I think we’re gonna have to hold off on your training schedule for a few days” Art says looking back at his phone as he starts texting.

Fast forward two weeks, Patrick did eventually start training again but with Art as his fill in coach. The girls were still stuck in Paris and the boys were left all alone in the house.

It’s been a very long time since Art and Patrick lived together, let alone living together just the two of them. It had only been a short amount of time that had passed since the New Rochelle challenger so they were still just adjusting to their new arrangement.

They were also learning themselves all over again. Patrick prides himself in being the one person in planet earth who knew Art inside and out. But he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. Art is different now, he’s older, he’s not 18 anymore.

Even if it was only small changes, they were still big to Patrick. Like for example, in the morning Art used to make his bed before he showered, but lately Patrick’s noticed that Art will make the bed afterwards. But maybe that’s just because Patrick is usually still in bed when Art’s showering.

Another change Patrick noticed was that Art only really eats in the kitchen. When they were younger, Art would eat in their bed all the time. Especially when they got high and got the munchies. But now as an adult, he never eats on the bed, or on the couch. He says that “crumbs just get everywhere.” Pft. Patrick still eats wherever he wants.

Art is still very disciplined like he was back in school but once Patrick moved in he noticed Art is almost like a machine. He follows his food schedule (6 meals a day, two being protein shakes), his hydration schedule (never just water, always some electrolyte mix), workout schedule (training 6 days a week, gym 6 days a week) and his physio schedule (stretching and pt also 6 days a week).

His only rest day was Sunday and even that was an active rest day, making sure he kept his body moving even if it was just walking around their neighborhood. Honestly it was kind of hot.

But then Art retired after the US Open. He was still disciplined but he had a little more wiggle room. Less intensive meal plan (he could eat burgers and ice cream again), less training (now he’s just Patrick’s hitting partner), and he made his own gym routine that he follows just to stay healthy. He definitely put on a little weight but he was still very hot to Patrick.

Of course there were a lot of things that were still the same. Like how they argue over dumb shit. Last week it was because Patrick didn’t put the toilet seat down (typical). This week was no different.

“patrick can you please stop leaving empty containers in the fridge?” Art asks picking up the empty milk container in the fridge. He was going to make a smoothie but then realized the milk was empty…

“teah, yeah I will.” Patrick replies nonchalantly, he was very invested in the video game he was playing.

Art rolls his eyes, he knows Patrick isn’t listening “did you even hear what I said?”

Patrick responds with his eyes still glued to the TV screen, very focused on this game, “yes babe, your ass has always looked that good.”

Art scoffs, picking up the TV remote to turns it off, “patrick seriously, it’s annoying stop leaving empty containers in the fridge.”

Patrick sighs, sad his game had been turned off, “how did you even know it was me? could’ve been someone else.”

Art crosses his arms in front of his chest making a “really?” face, “it’s just us here. who else could it be? A ghost?”

Patrick nods, “you never know, those celestial beings may be the culprit.”

A few months later, it started to set in that this pandemic would be longer than anticipated. They couldn’t believe the girls were still stuck in Paris. Both Art and Patrick were starting to really miss Lily and Tashi but they would facetime.

Art was starting to go a little insane. He couldn’t go to the store, go to movies, travel, he couldn’t do anything and his main interactions were only with Patrick. Which he didn’t mind, but it gets to a point.

Patrick was starting to realize that Art was spiraling. Art wasn’t following his routine as strictly anymore and he couldn’t really make himself comfortable anywhere in the house. It was like he couldn’t sit still. So Patrick figured he could use a distraction.

Patrick goes to find Art. He’s in the living room reading a book. “hey can you come with me for a second?”

Art nods. “what’s up?”

“ikay close your eyes and i’m going to guide you.” Patrick says.

Art stands up closing his eyes, “are you going to kidnap me and kill me in my home?”

“dammit, how’d you know?” Patrick chuckles, leading Art by his wrist outside.

He walks to an open area on the lawn in their backyard, “okay you can open your eyes now.”

Art opens his eyes to see two mini easels and canvases set up with a set of acrylic paint. A blanket is laid down on the grass along with takeout from Art’s favorite thai place.

Art gasps, “h-how did- when did you do all this?”

Patrick shrugs, “i ordered some stuff from amazon and the thai place recently opened back up for takeout only so i had that delivered too.”

Art turns to engulf Patrick in a big hug. He buries his face in Patrick’s shoulder and mumbles, “thank you, i- i don’t know what to say.”

“anything for you babe, and it’s okay all you have to say is ‘thank you patrick you are the love of my life and my one and only soulmate, your big dick is the only thing I need in this life’ and that will do it.” Patrick smiles, ruffling his hand through Art’s hair.

Art scoffs pulling out of the hug. He goes to sit down in front of one of the easels, “okay zweig, in your dreams.”

Patrick smirks going to sit down next to him, “that’s not what you said last night.”

[vi0l3tluvsu]

“Pretty Kitty!”

Tate Langdon and service cat!reader

tags: Tate and reader being cute, kinda silly, you help manage his thoughts, cat dad Tate,

!!not proofread!!

A/n: idk I thought this idea was so fucking silly 😭😭 so here you go guys you’re welcome

You tiptoed along the headboard, tail lightly flicking here and there until you sat just above Tate’s head. His alarm was going to go off any minute and it was your job to make sure he actually got up for school.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! “It’s another sunny day in-“ Tate groaned at the sound of his alarm and rolled over, he hadn’t pressed snooze, he completely turned it off. You stretched, leaning to paw at his hair and face, he gently swatted at your paws, attempting to get you to stop. However, this swatting only ended in you slipping from your stoop and landing on him.

“nmmmrrrrEEOW” you attempted to skitter away but got caught in the sheets and couldn’t get free. Tate lazily sat up on his elbows and giggled at you. You growled slightly, eyeing him.

“Okay, okay, I’m up, alright?” Tate pushed himself up and flipped the covers onto you, wrapping like a baby in the thin green blanket that he’d been hoping you would land on. You purred as he held you while he prepared to get ready for the day; brushing his teeth, combing his wild blonde hair, picking out clothes. Every item he contemplated wearing he asked you about. “What do you think? Is it a blue sweater day? No, I don’t think so either.” It was ironic, you always thought it was a blue sweater day.

Once he was dressed Tate made sure to get you dressed too. Since you came with him everywhere, you too had a closet. It was a repainted American Girl Doll closet filled to the brim with dresses, sweaters, and rain accessories. Sometimes, Tate would layout options for you to wear and let you paw at whichever one you wanted, but not today. Today was inportant for him, it was his first day of Junior year and he needed you to look the best you could so people wouldn’t stare as much. It wasn’t like you ever left your carrier unless you alerted, but his worry overpowered any rational thought about you not actually being seen. He pulled out three options, one was a green and black plaid pleaded dress, it matched his sweater. He sighed, putting it back. The second was a wool, light blue sweater, when he pulled it out you meowed and weaved between his legs to stop him from putting it away. He smiled, taking notice to your interest.

“You wanna wear this one?” He cooed, scooping you up. You meowed happily and pawed at the sweater, he rolled his eyes and put you down on the bed to put the sweater on you. After the struggle to get you into the sweater you insisted on wearing, he put you on his shoulder and the two of you went downstairs to eat breakfast before he put you in your carrier and rode his skateboard to school and you had to listen to teachers drone on about how their summer was and every class syllabus.

“I told you, you cannot carry that mangy thing around like a doll.” Constance was leaning on the kitchen sink, sipping on her morning coffee when Tate rounded the corner, you were comfortably laying on him like a weird scarf, stretched out around his neck, tail flicking about. “Seriously, Tate, what if it nicks you.” Tate huffed, rolling his eyes as he lifted you and placed you on the floor. He poured you some breakfast and then made himself some, talking with Constance as he ate. You finished quickly, turning and rubbing up against his legs, meowing and purring to get him to pick you up again. Constance sighed, a disgusted look coming across her face, “you coddle that thing too much.” Tate huffed again, bending down and finishing his breakfast next to you on the floor. You curled up in his lap and purred, calming the small anger building inside of him.

“I’m going to school.” Tate slummed as he picked you up and placed his bowl on the island counter, bragging his bag from the entrance way before heading outside and placing you in your carrier. He slug you over his shoulder and rode his skateboard to school.

For September it was surprisingly warm, the small wind from the skateboard making you feel slightly uncomfortable in the heat. “Almost there!” Tate called down to you as he came to a slow stop at a crosswalk. A group of teens came up next to the two of you, kids from his school.

“Nice pussy!” The driver shouted, “guess that’s the only kind you can get!” Tate turned to yell something back but as the light turned green they sped off down the road. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and riding onward to the school’s parking lot. He cooled down a bit as he walked to his advisory period, it was a little hard for students to understand why he had two bags, until you meowed through the mesh window at him. His face flushed as you pawed at the walls of your small enclosure, you’d been trained all summer to tolerate it, and you could! But not when Tate was obviously becoming worked up by all the people coming in and out.

He attempted to hush you, nudging the bag for you to stop pawing and mewing, but when that didn’t work he just became more embarrassed. “Come on.. hey.. stop..” he whispered, reaching a hand into your carrier. You started licking his hand, rubbing your head against it and purring. His embarrassment went away a little as you did this. Mission accomplished. He smiled, petting and stroking your fur until you rolled over and went to sleep at the sight of him being calm.

A couple of periods went by without a hitch, you awoke a few times and Tate fed you your wet food, gave you his coat, but it seemed overall the first day was going to be alright. During his lunch period, Tate took the two of you to the library, unpacking his lunch and yours.

“Alright Pretty, time to eat for real.” He poured your wet food into a small dish and unwrapped his own food as you started to eat. When you looked back up, the teens from that morning were there.

“A cat and its little bitch, huh?” One laughed, reaching over and picking you up by the scruff. “Aww so helpless.” A second said, throwing their head back in laughter.

“Hey! Give them back!” Tate stood, looking from you to the boy to you. “You can’t do that, they’re working.” Tate started to approach, but the second boy grabbed him by the collar, holding him just too far from you to catch if you fell. “Seriously! This isn’t cool.” Tate stuttered through his sentence, he was starting to get worked up but you couldn’t sooth him from here.

“Poor Tate, right? With a service animal. I bet you just carry the cat around for fun.” He shook you slightly, causing a small hiss to escape you. “Ohh kitty’s got claws?” He poked at your stomach and as a split reaction, despite being trained, you bit him. You weren’t supposed to be away from Tate anyhow, and you were being threatened. “Ow! Fucking thing.” He dropped you, and once you hit the floor, kicked at you. Tate’a emotions bubbled to the surface and, before anyone could react, he punched the first boy in the face full force. His fist retracting on impact as he shook out the pain. “Aw FUCK!” The boy shouted as he hit the floor, the second was quicker on his feet, sending a hand across Tate’s face when Tate bent down to get you.

Tate’s thinking was just a little faster, however, and he hit the second kid square in the gut, sending him to the ground too. You were curled up under the table when he bent down, careful of where he touched you. “Are you alright, pretty kitty?” He cooed gently at you, putting a hand near your face to smell him. You got up slightly, crawling over to him and rubbing your head against his arms as he scooped you up once again. You purred, cuddling up to his chest and slowly falling asleep, a hand brushing on your fur gently, kissing your head, and coddling you.

The end because I’ve had this wip saved for awhile >_<

[laylasverse]

GAME DAY

ꪆৎ a regular day in my better cr except is a wednesday so it's game day ( high school girls basketball ) and also happens to be a snow day . . .

7:07 AM

i get woken up by my six-month-old kitten screaming in my ear for no reason. milo won’t let me sleep past seven in morning for actual no reason because i feed her at 11 am so it doesn’t even make sense. i usually just kick ( picking her up & move her, not actually kicking her ) her off the bed and go back to sleep.

on normal days i go to school for like two & a half hours because i only need one credit to graduate and i do online college classes. but today was a snow so i didn’t have to go.

10:30 AM

i actually start my day by showering and doing my daily routine, including feeding milo.

today i went to breakfast with my friend kennedy at a small coffee shop. i don’t actually like coffee, or coffee shops, but kennedy loves them so i always go with her when she asks. we always end up talking for hours on end. something about her makes me spill everything to her, ranging from how i hate ap calc to how i think im just playing a good person & not actually one.

we’ve been friends still elementary school so it makes sense how i just tell her everything under the sun.

12:16 PM

after breakfast / lunch i go over to jason’s house. he’s the middle child of a doctor & a engineer so he lives in the richest part of town ( literally all the way across town from my house lol ).

we spend time together doing absolutely anything. he likes to read while i do my puzzles. we might be a fifty-year-old married couple . . . but he keeps puzzles at his house that i do when i go over there. i’m currently working on a peacock feather puzzle on his bedroom floor. i love to watch conan o’brien reruns while i do my puzzles.

3:30 PM

jason has to go to basketball practice. i go back to my house and take a nap before i have to get up and get ready for the game.

6:00 PM

the old government teacher is my school’s announcer for home games. so he does the whole “senior number forty-four, layla mullis!” and i get to do my secret handshake with my favorite junior, my sister kara ( yes, she’s a junior on jv. i took all the ‘good at basketball’ genes ).

jason sits with my mom & stepdad in the stands. my stepdad is like 5’5 so jay literally looks like a giant sitting with them lol. he has to watch as i make literally all my threes but none of my freethrows. i got fouled like two times. i finished with fifteen points and made my best friend, stevie, dunk to beat the clock.

8:30 PM

me, stevie, jason, vinnie ( stevie’s bf ), kara, and carmen ( kara’s gf ) all go out to eat after the game. we went to our favorite mexican restaurant in town. while we were there i knocked over full cup of water. im talking a full glass of ice water. it went everywhere. all over my lap and jason’s jeans. a few ice cubes made it across the table to stevie too.

i might be a little bit clumsy. just a little itsy bit though, trust . . .

9:37 PM

i take my sister’s girlfriend home before actually going home to our house. by the time we got there jason was already upstairs in my room waiting for me. my parents let him stay over pretty often. i mean we’re both eighteen and about to graduate so like. my stepdad had this joke that jay can’t come over if i don’t win my games . . . haha very funny dad. 😐

for the rest of the night after i shower i get to listen to jason yap on and on about the drama he’s heard from his guys. he always has something new to tell me. it’s honestly so entertaining. then he falls asleep on me. he’s just a big breathing teddy bear.

ꪆৎ : this was actually so fun to do

IB : this post by @ bkershft

2025 ⓒ LAYLASVERSE

[crow2222]

Two Darry x Paul fic wips I'll probably never finish 💔

———————————————

"Paul. Paul get up, you were gonna drive me home."

Darry shook his boyfriend's shoulder until the other smacked his hand away with a groan.

"That was yesterday. Leave me alone."

"If I come home and everyone's awake, I'm as good as dead."

Paul turned around in the bed then, rubbing his eyes open. "No shit? I thought they weren't strict."

"Well, not really." Darry pulled the covers off Paul, who weakly grabbed at them, before kicking it under the bedframe. "I mean it, I gotta get home- and I ain't walking, no way."

"Okay, okay! Let me find my pants at least, God."

Darry took one last glance at Paul’s bare ass before walking off to Paul's very own car. He'd wished for his own long before his dirty shoes could've even reached the pedals with his toes, but his family could barely afford the one truck they got now.

He wasn't dumb, but maybe a dreamer. A wisher? Darry wasn't quite sure how to describe himself, and that applied to everything.

The car roared to life as the two of them jumped in at the same time. Despite the rushing Darry had done, he was nervous for Paul to be behind the wheel. Was he even aware that he was awake?

Not that Darry had a lot of time to think about that, as the were speeding down the road in record time.

Christmas came and went as per usual, the decorations left behind even into the next year shining bright on the perfectly manicured lawns of the Soc neighbours.

These holidays always felt like it was Darry's. It was his time to shine, even if winter was his least favourite season. Christmas was his. And Paul's. Seeing how his birthday was only a bit before Christmas itself.

Candy canes, stupid sweaters, presents, elves and Santa. Theirs to take and kick down in town. Each cardboard stand and figure, every single one destroyed or stolen for their own pure selfish sake.

Darry suddenly looked down, he was wearing Paul's sweater instead of his own, and when he turned to look over at Paul, low and behold was his sweater. He looked good in it. It's hard to pick up clothes from the ground in the middle of the night with no light.

Maybe this little mix up wouldn't hurt anybody.

Not any more than last night did, laughter bouncing off the walls in Paul's room as the two of them grew tired. They ended up holding each other under the covers, Paul nuzzling up to Darry's chest, adding a pressure down on him that helped sleep come easily.

Darry tugged at the front of the sweater and sniffed, only to find that he can't. Like how you walk into your own home and never notice the smell of it, unlike the times you visit others.

"I don't think you're sweaty enough to make that fresh sweater smell just yet Dar."

———————————————

Wip no2

———————————————

Paul twirled the little brown strand of hair that stuck out.

He tugged on it gently when it's fully wrapped around his finger, prompting Darry to open his eyes. The man, in turn, is met with a gorgeous sight - his boyfriend laying down next to him, with the morning light from behind him casting a holy glow to his golden curls and lion-like arms.

That's all that was beautiful in his life in that moment, because in the next, he sat straight up like an arrow and started coughing up his lungs from whatever lingered in them during the night.

Paul must've sat up too, for the pounding that struck Darry in the back, which sent him into an even worse coughing fit that even turned into gags by the end of it.

"Shoot, you got something for that cough of yours somewhere?"

Paul wrapped an arm around Darry to keep him upright, who had vaguely registered that he had been swaying.

"Maybe. I'll be fine don't worry, it's my house afterall." He didn't want to mention how he didn't want Paul running around, messing up his organisation and all. Not like he had much of an organised system in the first place.

"No bother at all. Stay in bed, and I'll find something." And he did leave, after a peck on the cheek and a tuck back under the sheets.

[shivunin]

Hey! 7 or 16 for the Rook story time prompts!

Hey! Thank you so much!!

For 16. Rook falling in love for the first time:

(prompts)

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis (and past Ingellvar/OC) | 1,248 Words | CW: Mention of corpses, suggestive intro)

The heat always took her by surprise—the heat of a living person’s skin against her own, hands lifting to touch her, lips against her cheek. 

Ingellvar had grown too used to the cold rigidity of corpses, the waxy sheen their skin took on when they’d been dead too long. But this—for someone who had gone most of her life without being touched by anybody, this was a revelation. 

Edeline was already unbuttoning Lenore’s shirt, nimble fingers dancing over her starched shirt and below, tracing the edge of her underthings with the tip of her fingernail. Lenore couldn’t pull her mouth away long enough to speak, but if she’d been able to she might’ve told the other woman to slow down. They had all night, after all. They slept only a few feet and a thin wall apart from each other and nobody was going to interrupt.

There was no need to rush; they could’ve made it to one of their beds instead of doing this on the settee. Edeline never seemed to care about these facts.

“You were late again,” she said, mouth dragging over Lenore’s lips and lower, where her throat met her jaw. “I was waiting for hours.”

“I—have my practical Tuesday,” Lenore said, and parted her legs readily when Edeline pressed her knee between them. “Had to finish—I needed to—mph.”

Heat—skin touching her skin. Ah, she never felt as alive as she did when this was happening. It was foolish, she knew; the late nights, her increasing lack of focus on her coursework, and—and everything else. She was putting her future at risk by doing this, but it felt so good. She was drunk on it, tilting her head away so Edeline could press her teeth into the soft skin of her throat. 

Touch me, she wanted to say, touch me, touch me—but she was already being touched, hands sliding over her ribs to her hips, sliding off her shirt until it trapped her shoulders in place. 

“I was all alone,” Edeline went on, drawing back to tie her long hair back, “waiting for you.”

She was beautiful. Disastrous, but beautiful. Lenore stared up at her for a moment, eyes wide, and wondered: Is this love? It was difficult to know. She’d never loved anything but the Necropolis, had never been loved by anybody but Grief, so much as the embodiment of mourning could love somebody it hadn’t lost. 

“I want you,” Edeline went on, bending once more to her. 

Was it love? She didn’t know. The heat against her skin, the breath catching in her lungs—that had to be love, didn’t it?

Yes, she decided as she lifted her head to kiss her roommate again. This is probably love. 

|

“Rook? Do you need to go?” 

Lucanis’s soft voice roused Lenore, who sat on the cot in his room. His hand brushed her elbow, finding bare skin at her forearm below. If he had touched her arm with lightning, it would not have electrified her more. 

“No,” she told him, dragging her eyes open. “No. I’m awake.”

“It isn’t the best place to sleep,” he told her, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Not that I have tried to do so very often myself. You would be tired in the morning.”

Lenore smiled and stretched her neck one way and then the other. Dozing in this position had been a dreadful idea. Her neck already hurt from a few minutes of it; surely a whole night of it would make tomorrow a nightmare. Still…it was tempting, just to have an excuse to stay. 

“I will still be here in the morning,” he told her, his voice still soft. 

His eyes lingered on her face, her mouth. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. They hadn’t done that, though he’d made his interest clear. Their near-kiss in this room was the closest they’d gotten. She found she didn’t mind as much as she might’ve expected. Something about being near him made it difficult to question. 

“Promise?” she asked. 

“You have my word,” he told her, the corner of his mouth twitching again. Leaning back against the wall while they’d been talking had mussed the back of his hair slightly. It was…endearing, she decided. She’d never seen his hair messy like this before. 

“You will sleep better in your own bed,” he added after a moment. They were so close. She could kiss him right now. She could lean forward right now and—

“It’s generous to call it a bed,” she told him and stood, stretching her back, “but I take your point.” 

“I will walk you to the door,” he said. 

“Bodyguard duty now, too?” she asked, opening the door to the pantry. Nobody was in the dining room beyond. Fortunate. “Overachiever.”

“Yes—I won’t charge you extra for it.”

Lenore laughed. She might’ve thought of something to say in response to that, but his hand found hers as they passed the table and any thought fled immediately from her mind. 

His hands were so warm. That made sense, of course. She’d felt his hands before. He’d helped her up when she’d fallen in combat and passed her dishes at the table, among other things.

But he hadn’t ever held her hand before. He held it loosely now, as if ready to let go at any moment. It was difficult to hold very still and walk at the same time, but she tried it anyway. Anything to hold onto this moment a little longer. Could he tell that she’d slowed down? It was such a short distance to the door. She didn’t think she could drag it out terribly long, but…

“Thank you,” she told him. “For spending time with me tonight, I mean.” 

“I could say the same to you.”

Drat. Here was the door already. 

“Here,” he said, swinging the door open.

Beyond, the Fade looked more or less like it always did. There was no night here. That had certainly taken some getting used to. 

“See you in the morning?” she said. His thumb ran over her knuckles, touching each in turn. 

“Mm,” he said, and lifted her hand to his lips. 

Lucanis kissed her, lips brushing against the scar over her third knuckle. It was hardly any contact at all, but he may as well have driven a blade through it for all the shock she felt. 

Oh, she thought. Oh, dear. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” he said, and she took three steps through the open doorway before she could think of anything to say in return. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she told him. He ducked his head and closed the door behind her. She was left blinking at the too-bright world beyond. 

Before her, skeleton lovers embraced, the statue towering over the courtyard. The Caretaker had replaced a wolf statue with it one day when she’d been sleeping. It was almost precisely the same as the one she’d tended for years in the Necropolis. It seemed like a sign somehow that it was standing before her now. 

No matter how long Lenore stared at the statue, it offered no guidance. 

“Oh, dear,” she said, because it was all she could think. 

Exhaling shakily, she raked her shorn locks back from her face and stumbled down a set of floating stairs toward her room. A fierce fullness in her chest, a song under her skin, a heat in her cheeks—that’s what love felt like. 

If nothing else, she supposed it was good to finally know.

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) I literally said I was gonna post this month's ago and then never had the wherewithal to describe it and so I didn't Lmao (said with pain). But since I'm thinking of opening my commissions I figured I should remind ppl that I. Yknow. Can draw.

Lots of Steph here (I had major art block making all of these and my brain worms for her kept me going) + some sprinkles of stephcass for Cass nation to enjoy!

[todayisafridaynight]

empty nest

[bongwateriero]

here at the end of all things (frodo!frank)

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[writingboutbrainrot]

All of Me Loaves All of You [ch2]

[ch0 | NOW ON A03]

Today was the big day. Louise was woken up way too early for her taste, 6 a.m., to go to the wedding venue. To save on costs the whole thing was very DIY - aside from renting a ballroom and hiring a caterer, no way was Bob Belcher catering at his own daughter’s reception and missing out on the important stuff. Besides, he still hated catering. 

So Louise had to be up at the buttcrack of dawn to go and help make sure everything was perfect. Which of course she was the perfect person for the overseeing of...just not for another few hours. Or at least 5 or so shots of espresso. Which she halfway downed on the drive with her parents and Gene.

Zeke’s cousin Leslie was already unfolding chairs outside when the Belchers arrived, a gaggle of children running around and not really helping. Who was helping though was a very tired looking blonde. Louise grimaced as Logan spun around, swinging a chair like Leatherface as he tried to not hit any of the children dashing about. He was very off balance and Louise sipped her caffeine and hoped she’d see him fall. Maybe he’d twist his ankle and someone else would have to stand it as best man. Leslie would be a suitable choice, he could even dance.

No such luck. Brown eyes squinted as the man righted himself and managed to set the chair down without incident. They then looked down at her just as dark coffee as the blonde started walking over with one of those smarmy little smirks of his.

“You gonna help with the labor or just stare at the workers?” he chided, arms crossed and that left brow of his raised so high Louise thought it may get lost in his bangs. Not bangs she could hide under like an umbrella if it rained, but a jungle that her fingers would probably get ensnared in if she- 

She blinked. Then she scoffed. “Unlike yooou, I have the all important job of making sure the bride doesn’t lose her shit. This means that I don’t have to do manual labor, thank you very much.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed a little, but then he motioned to the building. “Bride-not-zilla is in there with Susmita already.” He looked like he was about to say something else, but Louise spoke first,

“Great well you keep doing a mediocre job out here and I’m gonna go crush it in the dressing room.” 

She pushed past him, a little bit of coffee splashing his shirt and giving a “ha!” when he called out her name in an accusing whine. 

Dodging way too rambunctious children, Louise crossed the lawn and the ballroom. Then she cracked the door open for a decency check before sliding in. Linda had beelined when they arrived and was flitting about while Susmita handed a robed Tina a thermos.

“Bit early for vodka ain’t it?” Louise cracked. Her sister gave a sleepy glare. She shrugged and muttered, “Tough crowd,” and went to the pile of bags. She and her mom had put their stuff in the same bag and now was the time for Louise to dig around. They had a couple of hours before they were needed for the photoshoots, but Louise knew if she wanted to avoid manual labor she should get ready asap.

“Louise don’t you wanna lounge for a bit in the fancy robes?” Linda asked, waving a fluffy pink robe around. The question stopped Louise in her tracks. She stared at the cloth in question as it beckoned like a siren. If she put that on then not only would she not be forced out of the room, but she also wouldn’t have to use any effort to make herself up much earlier than she needed.

“Yes Mother, I would like to lounge in the fancy robes, thank you.” Louise agreed while putting down the bag. She took the robe from her mom and slid it over her pj’s. The microfiber fleece lulled her into a sense of security. How can Tina be grumpy in this?! she wondered for a moment. But then she remembered how little sleep everyone had gotten.

“Alright so. What’s the game plan Sus?” She decided it was going to be much better directing all inquiries to the bride’s maid who had it all together.

-x-x-x-

An hour of sitting around later and Louise found herself growing….bored. She was currently hanging upside down on the settee, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Her coffee was gone and replaced with a mimosa flute. Which she was nursing because she felt like 8 am was too early for alcohol but Linda was still always ready to get a party started.

“Besides, Louise, a mimosa is a morning drink. It’s perfectly acceptable,” the older woman insisted while lifting her own flute up.

“It’s a brunch drink, Mom,” she countered with a smile. “Brunch starts at 11, 10 if you’re being generous.”

“9 am if you’re in the Philippines,” Susmita chimed in without looking away from her tablet. Louise heard a Level Up come from the device and caught Susmita grin.

Linda let out a tchk. “Ahhhh you girls and your cement-ticks.”

“Semantics, Mom,” Tina joined in. Her tea was finally kicking in, she still wasn’t allowed to have coffee after that whole espresso episode she had as a teen.

“What did I say?”

“Nevermind, Mrs. Belcher. Hey, do you know when Gretchen will be here?” Susmita asked, expertly redirecting the subject. Louise admired that. It was nice to have someone else who could handle the family.

And like magic, the door opened to reveal….Tammy and Jocelyn. Louise groaned the smallest amount. The two may have grown up over the years, and sure Louise and Tammy have had their fair share of “same wavelength” moments but... 

“Tinaaa, girl we’re heereee!” Tammy exclaimed with way too much energy for 8 in the morning. She made a type of shrill sound that Louise wasn’t sure she could describe. “I can’t believe you’re getting married today!”

“Yeaah you’re, like, making it so official today,” Jocelyn added in the same lilted monotone she’s always had. Her head turned to the minibar next. “Ooo is that orange juice?”

Some things don’t change and it was just too early. So Louise took this as her cue to stop hiding inside and flipped herself off the settee. “Whelp looks like you’ve got enough people to hold down the fort in here T, I’m gonna make sure everything’s going smooth on the battlefield,” she announced while straightening out her robe.

Before Tina could protest, Louise gave her older sister a quick kiss to the top of her head which was graciously washed this morning, and headed out the door with her mimosa in hand.

She didn’t immediately regret it, even if she had to quickly dodge a gaggle of scamps rushing by. But she did so without spilling mimosa, so that was a win. Smirking to herself, she noticed Gene shuffling by.

“Yo Gene, where’s the fire?” she called, already heading toward them. 

The middle Belcher looked around without stopping. “Oh Louise!” They gave an appraising up and down glance before pointing. “I do hope that I have a robe waiting for me in either dressing room.” When Louise just raised her eyebrow, they shrugged and turned back to watch where they were going. “The fire’s at Alex’s van. Not a real fire, this time, just that the equipment is there and it needs to be-” they flailed an arm in the general direction of the building, “there.”

Louise now regretted coming outside. Or at least regretted blindly following her sibling. Carrying equipment while holding a drink was going to be way more work than she planned on doing.

“Bob why don’t you trade m-” a voice grabbed Louise’s attention, shaking her from her musings. Not that she’d admit just whose voice did that. A little ways in front of them Bob was at a wizard painted van with Alex and Logan, waving the blonde away with one arm and clutching something that looked hefty in the other.

“I got it, Logan, don’t-” pause for straining noise, “don’t worry about it.”

Gene and Louise shared an eye roll and hurried a little faster to the group. Louise shouted out, “Dad come on you’re one wrong breath away from dying at any moment, let the middle aged guy throw out his back instead.”

Close enough now, Louise could see Logan huff and roll his eyes. “I’m not even 30, Four Ears.”

“And?” she quipped back, not having any real backup. Which she cleverly hid with a sip of her drink. Seeming to pick his battles, Logan just shook his head. Louise thought she saw the corner of his lips tug up. But that’s something neither of them would admit.

Turning her attention back to her elderly father, Louise tutted. “For real, Dad, let someone else get that. I’ll trade you,” she said while holding out her half empty flute. The fast action caught the patriarch off guard and he precariously handed the cargo over in exchange. Louise finished the transaction by taking a careful step towards Logan. 

“And now you take this,” she chimed while lifting the luggage by the handle. When the almost-30 year old took it without a second thought Louise prided herself on not cackling right away. The double take he did when he realized what happened caused her to burst, however.

Of course she had expertly weaseled her way into carrying the smallest thing there was. “You were really going to make the father of the bride carry a cd case? You monster,” she teased. 

Logan let out a single bark of a laugh. “You should’ve been out here earlier when I handed him the extension cord.” The twinkle in his eye as Louise reached for imaginary pearls was not to be missed. And Louise thought she caught that too. “This is the last of it though. So classic Louise-timing.”

“Pssh, it’s an art, really,” the young woman boasted. She tried to block out Gene and Alex behind them. But when your sibling only knows stage whisper as a lowest setting that was difficult, especially when that skill is extended to their platonic soulmate.

It was Alex who spoke the question, “Do you think we’re going to perform at their wedding soon?” 

And Gene who answered, “Not for another 7 years.”

“Right, right. In their 30’s,” Alex concluded, referring back to Gene’s ancient prophecy. 

For the millionth time in 3 hours, Louise rolled her eyes. Gene said a lot of things off the cuff, and that was just one of those things. Her sibling was not a prophet, and she was never going to reconnect and marry Logan Barry Bush in her 30’s. For one thing, they had already reconnected now, before Louise’s 20’s. So that was already not going well in Gene’s favor. 

Still, she cast a quick glance at Logan and noticed that his face was just the slightest shade of pink. An impish smile took her face.

“I don’t know Logan, I think we should see if Hall and Oates would get back together for us. If they’re still alive in 7 years that is,” she said a little louder than normal. The blonde had the briefest moment of confusion before that rusty gear in his brain clicked over.

“Awh but I was really looking forward to Beyonce,” he pouted.

“I don’t think we’d be able to afford her baby,” she consoled. Cue the indignant gasps from the peanut gallery in the back, and a confused noise from Bob up front. Choosing to leave the former suffering, Louise called out to the latter, “Nothing, Pops!” Then shared a snicker with Logan.

And that really helped pass the steps back to the main area. Thankfully because Louise was thinking that she needed a refill-osa after that. God maybe I am turning into Mom a little. 

“So has anyone checked on Zeke?” she asked, setting down the cd case and opening the door to the building. Gene went right on past her, presumably to cash in on their own pink fuzzy robe. Without answering, so she assumed that was a “no”. So she looked directly at Logan.

“Yeah I’ve been checking in between tasks. He’s got the rest of the party in there with him for company.”

Satisfied with the answer, Louise gave a nod and went inside. Sure enough, Gene was walking out of the “girl’s room” in a fluffy pink robe and two flutes of whatever concoction they made. Louise knew one was non alcoholic for Alex, so it was probably just orange juice and Spryt. The two passed with a nod. However Gene paused and caught Louise’s attention.

“You’re not really gonna hire someone else to do music for your wedding, are you?”

The youngest Belcher sighed with a smile. “Of course not. If I ever get married you’re the first person I’m hiring. Third person I call. If I don’t dual-call Tina and Millie first I’m pretty sure they’d materialize and murder me.”

Gene laughed and gave a thoughtful, “That does sound like them.” Then they were out the door and waving one of the flutes around, splashing the contents everywhere. Louise chuckled and re-entered the bridal world once more.

Before she knew it, it was wedding time.

[ ch3]

[orcelito]

-22F windchill is Pretty Chilly!! But I bundled right up, so I'm okay. My face doesn't like it, though. My lungs, too. Going full turtle mode, hunkering down in my coat collar and exhaling warm air up to keep my face warm. It works! Makes my glasses a condensation hell though. But struggling to see is worth keeping my face from getting frostbite lol. Lungs still don't like it tho.