#anyways that will need some finessing

[demenior]

i literally do not remember if i've already sent an ask but if i haven't i would love to hear about the critrole werewolf AU pretty please! and if i have. then i would like to hear about it again anyway 👐

Check my list of current wips here and send me a title and I’ll post a bit or share some details about it.

The CritRole Werewolf au is a mighty nein werewolf au. I set it in a vaguely modern world, but... in the 90s/early 00's. I wanted it to have some Buffy/Blair Witch/Lost Boys vibes. Like, grotesque and terrifying but with moments of absurd humor and a really bitchin' soundtrack. The Brjeau's are, loosely, the main characters.

Beau and Fjord were the intro duo. They're amateaur ghost hunters touring the country's most haunted locations. They're using Beau's absent fathers' credit card to fund them sleeping in Fjord's work van and get them access to dope shit like handheld video cameras and microphones that Beau uses to prove the supernatural is real. (Fjord films/runs tech. He a) doesn't believe in the supernatural and b) is terrified of it).

They pair up with Caleb- a mysterious dude in a long duster coat with a weird accent who may or may not be a monster hunter, and Veth- who's definitely just some normal housewife who just so happens to hate werewolves and definitely isn't one. They join the team after a scary event where Fjord is lost for a few days in some weird haunted place/sacred temple to some old forgotten wolf god. Caleb and Veth want to make sure Fjord isn't cursed, Beau is thrilled to be proven right that the supernatural exists, and Fjord thinks this is all ridiculous. So what that he's been having some weird dreams? That doesn't mean anything.

(You can see where this is going).

To keep things reigned in, I tried to limit all the supernatural entities to just werewolves (save for Fjord's eventual eldritch horror wolf thing he has going on).

Yasha, Caduceus, Fjord, Veth and Jester are all werewolves. Some of them were born werewolves, some of them were turned. Some were turned willingly, some not(t). Caleb and Beau remain Team Human (though Scourgers are now werewolf hunters, and through grueling training are a weird almost "half" werewolf, so they can't be turned).

[cent-scratchnsniff]

doodle dump

[erabundus]

thinking  about  the  surprise  when  ren  felt  when  he  first  started  using  anemo  —  that  he  doesn't  have  to  wrestle  with  his  own  element  to  make  it  obey  him,  that  he  can  fight  free  of  pain  and  free  of  putting  any  unnecessary  strain  on  his  body.

[curiosity-killed]

Trying to figure out how to frame “my manager is incompetent and kind of a shitty team lead” in a way that’s like “I just want to be able to work together better :) so we can all be successful :))”

[wolvisms]

ok across the spiderverse thoughts in the tags

[coffee-and-geto]

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month. 

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper. 

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder. 

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

[kannagen]

went to my college’s bars for the first time this weekend and they were exactly as i expected. i did pregame too hard and was veryyyy drunk and i did have fun but they are lame and full of people i have no interest in. but alcohol and music will work on me regardless and no cover so whatever it was fun to be white girl wasted and bar hop for a night ☺️

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: You lack finesse.

MC: Do you want me to strike a pose while I'm fighting?

Vil: ...

Vil: That's not what I meant.

MC: I'll make a peace sign next time. That should do.

Vil: *kicks them*

MC: *blocks it with their hand* *then makes a peace sign with the other*

Vil: ...

Jack: I heard Vil complaining about you.

MC: I don't know. I just followed his advice.

Jack: ...

Jack: Anyway, want to spar with me? I learned some good moves from Leona-senpai.

MC: Using your doggy charm doesn't count.

Jack: I told you I never used anything like that during our fight!

MC: I'm just teasing you. You're easily to get caught off guard, Jack.

Jack: Grr- *sighs in defeat* You're right. I still need to learn.

[astroa3h]

midheaven through the signs 💖

The Midheaven is your career compass, pointing you towards your professional path, shaping your social standing, and painting the picture of your public persona. It's like the universe's way of saying, "Hey, this is where you're meant to shine!" Now, let's break it down by zodiac sign, shall we?

Aries Midheaven: If you've got this fiery placement, you're a force to be reckoned with in the professional arena. You charge into things headfirst, fearless and ready to conquer. Your public persona? Bold, energetic, and unapologetically authentic. People can't help but be drawn to your magnetic charisma, and your social standing? Well, let's just say you're not one to fade into the background. You make sure you stand out anyway you can.

Taurus Midheaven: Slow and steady wins the race, right? That's your motto if your Midheaven falls in Taurus. You're all about building a solid foundation in your career, taking your time to create something enduring and of quality. Your public persona exudes reliability and dependability, like the rock everyone can lean on. And as for your social standing? You're the epitome of stability and success, you have the midas touch even if it doesn't always feel like it.

Gemini Midheaven: Ah, the social butterfly of the zodiac! With Gemini Midheaven, you're a master communicator and jack of all trades. Your professional path might involve fields like writing, teaching, or anything that allows you to flex your mental muscles. Your public persona is witty, charming, and endlessly curious, keeping everyone on their toes. And in terms of social standing? You're the one everyone wants at their party, the ultimate mingler and networker extraordinaire.

Cancer Midheaven: Cue the emotional depth and nurturing vibes! If your Midheaven falls in Cancer, your professional path likely revolves around caring for others in some way. You're the empathetic soul who thrives in fields like counseling, caregiving, or anything that lets you tap into your nurturing side. Your public persona is compassionate, intuitive, and deeply connected to your emotions. And in terms of social standing? You're the heart of the community, the one everyone turns to in times of need.

Leo Midheaven: Get ready for your close-up because with Leo Midheaven, you were born to shine in the spotlight! Your professional path is all about creativity, performance, and leadership. You're the natural-born leader, commanding attention wherever you go. Your public persona is bold, confident, and larger than life, like a true Hollywood star. And in terms of social standing? You're the king or queen of the jungle, the one everyone looks up to with awe and admiration.

Virgo Midheaven: Precision, perfection, and pragmatism—that's your game with Virgo Midheaven. Your professional path likely involves fields that require attention to detail, organization, and problem-solving. You're the analytical mind who excels in areas like accounting, healthcare, or research. Your public persona is humble, reliable, and quietly competent, earning you respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the trusted expert, the one everyone relies on for practical advice and solutions.

Libra Midheaven: Balance and harmony are your bread and butter with Libra Midheaven. Your professional path is all about relationships, diplomacy, and aesthetics. You're the peacemaker who thrives in fields like law, counseling, or anything that requires finesse and negotiation skills. Your public persona is charming, diplomatic, and effortlessly stylish, drawing people in with your magnetic charm. And in terms of social standing? You're the social butterfly, the one everyone wants to befriend and collaborate with.

Scorpio Midheaven: Hold onto your hats because things are about to get intense with Scorpio Midheaven. Your professional path is all about transformation, depth, and uncovering hidden truths. You're the detective of the zodiac, excelling in fields like psychology, investigation, or anything that requires digging beneath the surface. Your public persona is mysterious, intense, and magnetic, drawing people in with your enigmatic allure. And in terms of social standing? You're the power player, the one everyone respects and fears in equal measure.

Sagittarius Midheaven: Adventure awaits with Sagittarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about expansion, exploration, and pushing boundaries. You're the eternal optimist who thrives in fields like travel, education, or anything that allows you to spread your wings and explore new horizons. Your public persona is adventurous, enthusiastic, and endlessly curious, inspiring others to follow their dreams. And in terms of social standing? You're the free spirit, the one everyone admires for your fearlessness and joie de vivre.

Capricorn Midheaven: Time to climb that cosmic ladder with Capricorn Midheaven! Your professional path is all about ambition, discipline, and climbing to the top of the mountain. You're the ultimate goal-setter who excels in fields like business, finance, or anything that requires strategic thinking and long-term planning. Your public persona is authoritative, determined, and fiercely independent, commanding respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the pillar of the community, the one everyone looks up to for guidance and leadership.

Aquarius Midheaven: Buckle up because you're about to shake things up with Aquarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about innovation, progress, and challenging the status quo. You're the visionary thinker who excels in fields like technology, activism, or anything that pushes the boundaries of what's possible. Your public persona is unconventional, eccentric, and ahead of your time, inspiring others to think outside the box. And in terms of social standing? You're the trailblazer, the one everyone looks to for fresh ideas and bold solutions.

Pisces Midheaven: Dive into the depths of your imagination with Pisces Midheaven! Your professional path is all about creativity, intuition, and tapping into the collective unconscious. You're the dreamer who excels in fields like art, spirituality, or anything that allows you to express your deepest emotions. Your public persona is empathetic, mystical, and deeply connected to the spiritual realm, touching the hearts of everyone you meet. And in terms of social standing? You're the healer, the one everyone turns to for comfort and inspiration in times of need.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Natal Chart Reading @ astroash.net

[ravengards-rogue]

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[supernova-stardust]

Bad Idea, Right?

jegulus | explicit minors dni | complete | word count: 9,351

direct sequel to "no one has to know what we do" on ao3

James has waited for months to hear from Regulus since he gave him his number after they hooked up in the ballet studio. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. So when he's out with his best friend, Peter, and receives a text from an unknown number, he instantly needs to know if that number belongs to Regulus. He's had a few drinks and before he knows it, he's knocking on Regulus' door begging to go inside.

OR

James Potter is whipped.

***

Based on Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo

Full fic after the break or on ao3

James wasn't sure what he was thinking when Peter had asked him to go out for drinks and he had agreed. Really, he never said yes to going out, let alone to this bar—The Leaky Cauldron—full of shitty IPAs and even shittier music. But here he was, drinking an IPA that tasted more like piss than beer and watching as Peter tried his best to flirt with his third woman of the night. It wasn't that Peter was unattractive or that he was a bad guy, far from it, but he lacked tact. No matter how many times James had tried to help him or played wingman, Peter always managed to fumble his words and come off as a creep, even when James knew he really wasn't. He was still his best friend, regardless of his lack of social skills. James hoped that some day he would find someone willing to look past his nervous flirting and see him for who he really was: a kind-hearted man with very little social finesse. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He attempted to ignore it, preferring to stay present when he was out with his friend, but by the third vibration he said fuck it and dug into his pocket. Peter was preoccupied anyway.

Unknown: is this james? Unknown: it's been a while, so i'm not sure if this is still his number Unknown: sorry in advance if this is the wrong number, i know it's late

James quirked an eyebrow at the messages, his heart racing at the thought of who it could be. Regulus. He was the only one who James had given his number too in quite some time, and if he was honest with himself, he had nearly given up hope to ever hear from him again. Instead of texting, he decided to call the number. He needed to know for sure that it was Regulus on the other side of that unknown number.

The phone rang four times before it was finally answered, a long silence stretching out before James heard a soft "Hello?"

He immediately made his way through the crowd of people towards the back exit, needing a quiet space to speak to the man he hadn't stopped thinking about for months. "Hey, is this Regulus?"

"Depends. Is this still James' number?"

"Yeah. Yes. I've been thinking about you, baby. I had almost given up on ever hearing from you again."

More silence. James began to doubt that he had handled this well. Maybe he was more like Peter than he had realized. 

"I've been thinking about you too, Daddy. Couldn't stop thinking about you, actually."

Fuck. Maybe nothing had changed between them after all. He felt the desperation to see Regulus, to be between his pretty thighs, growing just as strong as that first day he laid eyes on him. He knew in the first moment that he had seen him that he needed to claim him. Needed nothing more than to make Regulus his.

"What took you so long then?"

Regulus hummed. It sounded to him that Regulus was milking the time in an attempt to avoid answering his question. He almost didn't expect a response at all. 

"I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk. Come over?"

James laughed. "I'd love to baby, but I'm drunk drunk."

"Take a cab. I'll text you my address."

"Regulus, I—" James heard the line go dead, Regulus determining that the conversation was over and that James would, in fact, be going over to his place. He wanted to say that he had more self control than to simply show up at Regulus' beck and call, and yet… he knew he wasn't. He knew that Regulus would text him his address and he'd immediately pull up the rideshare app on his phone, entering the address given to him. 

He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed back into the bar in search of Peter. James might have been bailing on him in favor of seeing the guy he'd been fantasizing about since their last meeting, but he'd at least have the decency to tell his best friend that he was leaving early. He looked around until he saw Peter sitting alone at the bar, nursing his drink.

"Hey," James said, sitting down in the stool next to him.

Peter looked up at his voice. "Oh, hey. Wasn't sure where you went."

"Didn't go well, I take it?"

"Nah," Peter shrugged. "She told me she had a boyfriend, but I think she just wanted me to leave her be, so I came over here to grab another drink." He took a generous sip of his beer.

James felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it in favor of consoling his friend. "I doubt you'll find your soulmate in a bar like this anyway, man." He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another beer. He figured he'd need it to give him a dose of bravery, even if it tasted like piss.

"I doubt it. But a quick fuck in the bathroom would do for now, y'know?"

"Not these bathrooms," James laughed. "They're disgusting. At least up your standards to the alleyway or something."

The bartender smirked as he delivered James' drink. 

"I think I need to head home after this one," James said, raising his drink and nodding toward Peter.

James felt his phone vibrate again and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the push notifications.

Unknown: you're still coming over, right? Unknown: don't ignore me daddy

Peter looked over his shoulder at his phone and laughed. "Home, huh?" He took a sip of his drink. "Who's that?"

"Look, I—"

"It's fine, man. You haven't gotten laid in months now, I think you're due. So, tell me about her."

"Not a her, first off."

"Oh, yeah? Don't let the team find out about that one. They can say all they want that they're accepting, and maybe they are individually, but you know you'd never make it pro if the rumors start in the locker room."

James took a long sip of his piss-beer. "Yeah, I know. We're just friends anyway, it's not a big deal."

They sat in borderline awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking and avoiding touching the subject that Peter had brought up. James knew that Peter didn't have a discriminatory bone in his body, but he also knew that he was right. A desperate part of him wanted to call Regulus his boyfriend and he had to wonder how that would work if he had to keep Regulus a secret. He doubted that someone who was so used to being in the spotlight would feel okay with being a secret behind closed doors.

His phone vibrated on the bar.

Unknown: [unknown sent you one image]

Peter looked down at his phone at the same moment he did and smirked. "Just a friend, huh?"

"Pete, shut the fuck up."

"C'mon, I just wanna see what your friend sent you after asking if you were still coming over."

Unknown: i hope this is tempting enough for you to tell me you're on your way

"Yeah, he's definitely just a friend." Peter laughed. "C'mon then, respond. We both know you're going over."

"I probably won't," James said. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Peter or himself. "I have an early class tomorrow and then practice."

"Uh huh." Peter downed the remainder of his beer and leveled him a disbelieving look.

James unlocked his phone and opened the text thread. "Fuck." He could barely breathe as he looked at the image Regulus had sent him.

It was a mirror selfie unlike any that James had ever received. Regulus was sitting on the floor in front of a floor length mirror, his back to the mirror as he looked over his shoulder. The phone blocked his face from view, but he could see his artfully tousled black curls, tempting him to thread his fingers there. He sensed that if he could see his face, Regulus' pupils would be blown wide and a blush would be dusting his cheeks. He wore nothing but a black silk robe, pooling around his hips, revealing his bare back but hiding his perfect ass and thighs from view. The pads of his feet were visible, and James could tell from their angle that his legs were parted and his ass was positioned in such a way that if he was there in person, he'd need to get a taste. Fuck.

James: yeah, i'm on my way. lemme say goodbye to my friend and grab an uber.

James saved his number in his contacts, saving him as Baby. He was sure that he was still in Regulus' phone as Daddy, and if he wasn't, he'd be changing that as of tonight.

"So," Peter said, drawing out the 'o' in the word. "Definitely a friend?"

"As far as you're concerned, yeah."

Peter laughed. "I'll see ya tomorrow then, don't show up with any marks you don't want the guys to ask about."

James pulled up the rideshare app on his phone and nodded to his friend as he entered the address Regulus had provided to him into the request. "See ya." He paid out his tab and headed outside to wait.

In the car, he tried to calm his nerves, but it proved to be nearly impossible. The driver had music that he was unfamiliar with blasting and kept yelling over it to ask him questions. He ignored them, feigning being unable to hear over the music. He looked out the window to watch the city pass by rather than attempt to have polite conversation. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and dug into his jeans to check the notification. He smiled when he opened the text to see Regulus checking in with him again. After two months of not speaking to each other at all, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of Regulus being just as anxious to see him. 

Baby: eta?

He decided not to reply to the text. According to the GPS, he was only a few minutes away, and a small part of him wanted to make Regulus feel just a little anxious about not hearing from him. After all, Regulus had taken James' number when they saw each other those months ago and hadn't reached out until now. The least he could do was be patient for a few minutes. James had been patient for months. Regulus should be grateful that James wasn't making him wait to see him on his terms. Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. He knew deep down that the moment Regulus had texted him it was all over. James would trip over himself time and time again just for a taste of whatever Regulus gave him.

When the car stopped in front of an apartment building, James hopped out and made his way up the steps to a locked door. He pressed the button that corresponded to the apartment number Regulus had texted him, a loud buzz ringing out around him, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The door let out a quiet hum and he heard the lock click, indicating that he had been granted entrance. He couldn't help but wonder if Regulus was just as nervous as he was right now—waiting in his apartment at the door, peering out the peephole to see when James would arrive. He hoped that he was.

He finally arrived at the door labeled with the number Regulus had given him and as he lifted his hand to knock, the door flew open. Regulus stood there, draped in the black silk bathrobe that he had been wearing in the photo, looking like a fucking dream. Suddenly, all thoughts of irritation at not being texted sooner vanished. All that mattered was the man in front of him, draped in silk, but as James raked his eyes up those lean legs and the curves of his body, he noticed that Regulus was wearing an irritated scowl.

"Why didn't you text me back?" Regulus snapped, crossing his arms and blocking the entrance to his apartment by leaning against the frame of the doorway.

"I—" James was confused. He had never seen Regulus this cold and dismissive before. Why would him not texting Regulus trigger such a strong response like this? Especially when it had been months since James had heard from him.

"I know you saw the text. Your read receipts are on. So. Why didn't you text me back?"

"I was almost here. Can I come in? I'd rather not do this in the hallway."

"I'm not sure I want you to."

"Baby, come on."

"No." 

The door slammed in his face. Usually, having a door slammed in his face would discourage him, and if it was only about the sex, he'd have a far easier time getting that at the bar that he had come from. But there was just something about Regulus that drew him like a moth to a flame. He listened closely—the door hadn't been locked and he had only heard a few steps away from the door. He let out a breath and rapped his knuckles on the door. 

"Regulus?" he asked through the wooden barrier between them. "I know you can hear me. I'm going to open this door on the count of three. If you don't want me to come in, lock it before then, yeah? I'll leave if the door is locked." 

He didn't hear a response, but he hadn't really expected to. He counted to three and tried the knob. It turned freely in his hand and he pushed the door open to find Regulus standing in the entryway, staring at the floor. Suddenly, he looked so small and fragile to James. He hadn't thought until this very moment about the potential of him being the reason that Regulus would have avoided texting for this long. He knew what Regulus had said—I needed to be sure that I wanted you again and that I wasn't just dick drunk—but when he thought back on their first interaction, he realized what an ass he had been before they had hooked up. He wondered if those words he had said were making Regulus question James' true intentions here. He wondered if those words had made Regulus question his very self-worth.

I don’t date…

Have you ever had a hot quarterback want to fuck you in the dance studio?

…It can stay between us.

And fuck, he wished that he when met Regulus that he asked him on a date instead of casually fucking him in the studio. He had never wanted to date before, but everything about their chemistry had felt life-altering and brain-rewiring. When Regulus had kissed him, he felt like that was the first time he had truly been kissed—like every kiss before then had been to prepare him for how earth-shattering a real kiss would be. 

Every thought that had occupied his mind lately had been about Regulus. When the team had practice at the ballet studio last month, he had hoped beyond hope that Regulus would be the one teaching them again. When it had been a tiny woman with hair so blonde it was nearly white who had greeted him with a bright smile, he had almost felt bad for how coldly he had returned her greeting. He had spent the entirety of class thinking about what he and Regulus had done together in that very same space. When class had ended, he asked the woman—Pandora, he learned—about Regulus. She refused to give him a single detail, saying that if Regulus had wanted him to know anything then he would have reached out. It was obvious to James that the two of them were friends and that she was protecting Regulus, but the realization that Regulus needed to be protected from James because he had been such an asshole hadn't registered in his mind until this very moment.

"Why did you let me inside?" James asked in an attempt to let Regulus admit how he was feeling before James groveled over mere intuition.

Regulus' eyes snapped up, icy silver and full of something that James couldn't quite place. "Why didn't you text me back?" he threw back with venom lacing his tone, avoiding the question.

"Honestly? A few reasons. I was almost here being the main one. But I was also hurt that it took you this long to reach out to me. It made me feel like I had a little bit of the power back, I suppose. I wanted you to squirm for just a few minutes like I did these past couple months. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"I let you in because I'm stupid."

James flinched at that. "I think we can both agree that I'm the stupid one out of the two of us and that you're just far too forgiving."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his hurt and anger dissolving into something unreadable on his face. "I'm not sure which of us is more self-depreciating."

James gave a small laugh and took a timid step towards Regulus. "That's probably a tie, I'd wager." When Regulus didn't move away, James closed the space between them. "Why did you call me tonight, baby?"

Regulus looked away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "I—I just wanted to see you."

"Is that all?" James brushed a stray curl from Regulus' face and tucked it behind his ear. He used the movement to trail his fingers along Regulus' jaw and then with two fingers, tilted his face up so that he was forced to look at James. The blush on his cheeks deepened and it took every ounce of effort on James' part not to kiss him until they were both breathless. "I'm glad you called. I missed you, I couldn't stop thinking about you actually. I even asked your friend, or I assume she's your friend, Pandora? But she refused to tell me anything about how you were or—"

Regulus rose to the balls of his feet and pressed a tentative kiss to James' lips, interrupting his nervous rambling. He pulled back and looked at James, his eyes full of questions he was too afraid to voice, but James knew they were there. He had the same questions swirling in his own mind. 

"Regulus, what are we doing?"

"I'm trying to kiss you. What are you doing, Daddy?" Regulus purred, his voice thick with desire.

Every semblance of control James had over his yearning for Regulus snapped at the use of that damn word. He had never thought he'd be so turned on from someone calling him 'Daddy' but the moment Regulus—the most demanding brat he had ever met—had surrendered control to him and uttered the word, he was done for. And Regulus knew it too, used it to his own advantage, swaying James from having a serious discussion to get him to bend to his every whim. He wondered if Regulus had ever been the one to surrender control to him, really. He hoped to one day be able to make Regulus feel so safe and cherished that he did.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me." James crashed his lips to Regulus' and every part of him felt right. These last few months he had felt like every part of him was slowly coming undone, unraveling at the seams. Even his coach had noticed a difference in practices, making him run more drills and sprints than usual. There was no way that he could continue to go on without Regulus in his life. Every kiss they exchanged felt like coming up for air after nearly drowning. Their tongues explored one another and it was like returning home after far too long away.

Regulus pulled away after what could have been five seconds or five hours, James wasn't sure, but the whine he let out at the loss of contact was embarrassing. Or, would have been embarrassing if he was a proud man. He had just come to the conclusion that he would sacrifice all pride in exchange for even just one more kiss from the man in his arms. 

"Shh," Regulus soothed as he snaked a hand down James' arm and threaded their fingers together. "Come to my room?"

"Anything." James said too quickly.

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "Anything?" he asked deviously. "You may regret that."

James hummed, pretending to think about the statement. He didn't have to, he knew that Regulus could ask anything of him and he'd do everything in his power to make it happen. "Doubtful. Lead the way, baby."

Regulus took his hand and lead him down a hallway and into an open door. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, draped in black silk and plush cream blankets. Thick forest green drapes were drawn and a floor length mirror that James recognized from the photo Regulus had sent him earlier sat in a corner next to a vanity set. The entire room was the pinnacle of comfort and elegance and felt so very much like Regulus, he couldn't help but to smile. Regulus pulled him into his body and pressed a kiss to his mouth before pushing him backwards towards the edge of the bed.

"Sit," Regulus said. 

"Feeling bossy tonight, baby?" James purred.

"I'm always bossy," Regulus replied as he stepped forward. James opened his legs so he could stand between, reaching out to pull Regulus in close. Regulus hummed and trailed a finger down James' jaw, his eyes hooded and hazy with desire. "You just caught me off guard the first time."

"You seemed to enjoy it all the same," James said. He turned his head towards Regulus' trailing finger and caught it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked. He reached up and slid his hands under the silk robe to grab Regulus' ass. 

"Safe words?" Regulus asked, pulling his finger out of James' mouth and looking down at him with an unreadable expression.

"Isn't that my line?"

"Not tonight, Daddy."

James moaned. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever allowed the roles to be reversed. He always preferred to control the scene, to know everything that would happen, but something about Regulus made him want to relinquish that control. He trusted him, even if he barely knew him. He knew he'd be safe within the walls of this room with him.

"Red means immediately stop, in need of aftercare. Yellow means stop, check in. Green means good to go, please for the love of God, don't stop." Regulus nodded along as James spoke. He gently removed his glasses for him and walked away to place them on the nightstand next to the bed and then returned to his spot between James' knees. James leaned forward into his body and then he felt the sharp sting of a palm on his cheek. 

"I didn't say you could touch me yet," Regulus said coldly as he stepped back, removing James' hands from his body and leaving him sitting alone on the bed fully clothed. "Color?" His voice softened as he checked in.

"Fucking hell," James massaged his cheek. He had never had anyone slap him before, in or out of the bedroom, and it stung in a way he wasn't expecting.

"James, we can't continue if you won't answer me."

"Sorry, yeah, green. I'm green. Never been on this side of it, responding is harder than I thought."

Regulus' eyebrows raised in surprise, his face softening in concern and trepidation. "Let's pause, yeah?"

"I said I was green, baby."

"I know, I know, but—"

"Keep going, please. I'll be so good for you, beg so pretty if that's what you want." James would do anything.

Regulus seemed to be lost in thought for so long, James wasn't sure that he would continue, and then he slipped away once more and walked over to the opposite side of the room where a dresser sat against the wall. He picked up his phone and began to fiddle on it and just when James was about begin to beg, music filled the space around them. Regulus placed his phone down on the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a black box. He held the box as he walked back over towards the bed, placed it on the bed behind James, and then slowly strode to the middle of the room to stand in front of James, but just out of reach. He began to slowly untie the silk robe, his long fingers moving with purpose, working the knot in methodical movements that were intended to drive James insane. When the knot was undone, Regulus pulled the silk tie from around his body and threw it at James. He moved his hips to the music the entire time, rolling his body and driving James crazy with want. He could feel his cock quickly thickening in his jeans, becoming uncomfortable with neglect.

As he danced, the robe gaped slightly, giving James all too brief glimpses of Regulus' toned body, his abs flexing with movement, and red lace panties. James' mouth watered, wanting nothing but to tear through the lace and get a taste of what was hidden beneath it. Regulus inched the robe down off of his shoulders and turned his body, arching his back and giving James a show of the silk slowly being removed. He barely caught a glimpse of the red lace cupping Regulus' ass perfectly before his face got covered with the robe being thrown at him. He quickly ripped it off his face and gaped at the view of Regulus swaying his hips as he walked towards him. 

"No touching," Regulus warned as he approached.

James nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could abide by the rule. Regulus crawled onto the bed, nestling his knees on either side of James' body and resting his hands on his shoulders as he began rocking his hips in time with the music. At first, Regulus hovered, avoiding touching James as well, but then he leaned in. He began grinding his hips on James, both of them moaning at the friction. It took every ounce of self control that James had to keep his hips still and his hands firmly placed on the bed as Regulus ground himself on his cock. One of Regulus' hands slid up from James' shoulder and buried itself into James' curls. He gave James a sloppy kiss and when he pulled away, a trail of spit connected them. 

Regulus pushed at James' shoulder and he allowed himself to fall back, laying on the bed with his feet off the edge and staring up at the beautiful man before him. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, unable to stop himself from verbalizing the observation.

"I know, but I think you've seen enough, Daddy." 

James' brows knit together in confusion as Regulus reached forward, grinding his hips into James as he did. James moaned at the friction, the sharp zipper of his jeans digging into his swollen cock and kissing him with a combination of pleasure and pain. He heard Regulus rummaging into something, the box he assumed, and when he sat back he held up a blindfold in question. 

"Fuck," James moaned. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, baby. Just… please let me out of my clothes first?"

"Aw, poor Daddy. Fully clothed while his baby is dripping with desire." Regulus placed the blindfold on the bed next to him and dipped his fingers into his panties. James could feel his fingers swirling in the wetness gathered there through his jeans, nearly bucking his hips at the feeling. When Regulus pulled his hand away, his fingers were soaked with his arousal. He sucked his fingers into his own mouth, moaning as he pulled the fingers away and pushed them against his lips as his tongue swirled around them. James groaned and pushed his hips up into Regulus' body, seeking more friction as he watched.

"You're not going to cum until I let you, Daddy." Regulus made quick work of removing James' shirt and then shifted his hips so he had access to James' belt. He made a show of unlatching the belt and sliding the leather through the loops before holding the belt in front of him. "Hands?" 

James looked up at Regulus' face as he held out his hands in offering. He felt Regulus wrap the belt around his wrists, looping the leather confidently, latched the buckle, and then checked the tension with his fingers. Then, Regulus picked up the blindfold and secured it over his eyes, preventing James from both seeing and touching what he most desired.

"Color?"

"Green."

"Good."

He felt the weight of Regulus leave his lap and whined at the loss of him. Left fully alone on the bed, he writhed in need. The loss of his sight was a sensation that heightened all other senses in his body and his leaking and aching cock began to overwhelm all of his nerves. He heard a rustling of fabric and then froze when he felt Regulus' fingers begin to work at the button of his jeans. He unzipped the fly of his jeans tortuously slow and then James felt his jeans being pulled by the loops. He canted his hips to aid in the removal of them and then felt Regulus' hot breath against his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs. 

"Look at you," Regulus breathed, nuzzling into his aching cock. "So hard for me and I've barely touched you. Leaking and desperate for me."

"Just for you, baby," James said as he thrusted his hips into nothing, seeking friction and finding none. 

"Such a little slut for me," Regulus said. "Sluts don't get to cum though, do they?"

James let out a desperate whine. He could tell from Regulus' voice that he was no longer near his cock and his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the bed dip next to his head. 

"Especially when they lack manners. You can't even beg properly." Regulus continued. "You'll have to work extra hard to cum, Daddy."

James felt Regulus crawling closer and then Regulus was hovering over his mouth, hot pleasure nearly dripping into his mouth. Regulus was so close, he could practically taste him. He let out a whine and lifting his head in an attempt to meet Regulus' body with his mouth, desperate to please.

A rough hand buried into his hair and held him in place. "Mind your manners, Daddy. Ask me nicely to sit on your face. Beg for my cunt, like the needy slut you are."

"Please, baby. Please let me taste you." Every thought had left James' mind, the only thing that mattered was dipping his tongue into Regulus' body. "I'll do anything you say, please, please. Baby, I just need to taste you. Please."

Regulus hummed and released his hand from James' hair. "Maybe you can be trained," he said, mimicking the words that James had said to him just a few short months ago when their roles had been reversed. "If you need to safe word, reach up and tap me three times. Show me, Daddy." James contorted his hands so he could follow the direction given and when Regulus was satisfied that James knew how to get his attention, he lowered himself onto James's face. He let out a loud moan as James dipped his tongue into him, grinding into James' face. James moaned right along with him—unable to see or touch, his senses became overwhelmed with everything that was Regulus. He rocked his hips as he continued to lick and suck and bury himself into Regulus' wet heat. He felt Regulus' breath hitch, aware of every movement the man riding his face made, and then Regulus was cumming. James' mouth flooded with the heady taste of Regulus' orgasm and he continued to lick him through it, relishing in the warm liquid pooling in his mouth. 

"Fuck," Regulus moaned, grinding his hips down into James' face. "I knew we could put that mouth to good use."

James groaned, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of Regulus' thighs with his tongue, hoping that Regulus knew he agreed with the sentiment. 

"How many times can you make me cum, Daddy?"

James' hips bucked, seeking friction he knew he wouldn't find. He continued to lick and suck at Regulus above him, desperate to please the man riding his face. It didn't take long for Regulus to cum again and as James fucked his tongue into him, he felt Regulus ride the wave of one orgasm right into another, the taste of him sweet in his mouth. His hips were constantly moving of their own accord now, James barely aware of his own body, and wholly focused on Regulus' pleasure. He had decided that if he couldn't feel physical pleasure of his own, then he would tune himself into Regulus'.

"Do you want to cum, Daddy?" Regulus asked the question, but pushed himself so firmly onto James' face that he could hardly breathe, let alone answer. James moaned at the feeling and gave himself earnestly to Regulus for his pleasure, sucking at the nerves and tasting Regulus orgasm again. 

Regulus let out a breathy moan, riding James' face through his orgasm, before he spoke again. "You've been so good for me, keeping that mouth busy to make sure I cum. So, so good. I think you get rewarded for being so well behaved."

When Regulus raised his body from James' face, he whined at the loss. He heard Regulus laugh darkly. "Little slut misses my cunt already?" A finger trailed his body, starting at his neck and working down his chest to a nipple, then pinched. "Answer me."

"Y-yeah. Miss it so much, baby. You taste so good. I could live off that cunt."

"Hmm," Regulus hummed in consideration as he continued to trail his fingers up and down James' torso. "If I let you cum, do you think you'll be able to fuck me and cum inside me after?"

"Inside? Reg—"

"I'm haven't—I'm still clean if you are. I have an IUD. Sorry, uh… Yellow? I shouldn't have brought this up while you're… like this."

Regulus began fiddling with the blindfold and James pulled his head away in a desperate attempt to make Regulus stop. He didn't want to break the scene, he had felt himself slipping into a subspace for the first time and wanted to allow himself to relish at the feeling. "No, baby. Green. I'm good. Better than good. I want that so bad, desperate for it actually."

"James, I'm the one who called the safe word… I have condoms, it's fine—"

"I don't want them, you only called the safe word because you felt like you were coercing me. You're not. I want this. I want you." James was desperate to make Regulus understand that he was fully aware of the decision, that he was truly fine with the decision. He hadn't been with anyone since he and Regulus had hooked up and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to be with anyone else anyway. He trusted when Regulus said he had birth control and if he didn't… well, he'd even be okay with the consequences of that too. Fuck, Regulus made him feel insane.

He heard Regulus let out a breath, a long stretch of silence weighing heavy between them. Then, he felt a hand rubbing his cock between the thin material of his briefs. He hissed at the contact, his cock neglected for so long it grew hypersensitive. "Well, then you're going to have to answer the question, Daddy. Will you be able fuck me after I get you off?"

Regulus pulled his hand away and James chased his hand with his hips, desperate for the heady mixture of pleasure and pain that was the feather light touch of his hand on his cock. He nodded, shameless in his search for pleasure from the man who held him in the palm of his hand. 

"Words, Daddy. If you won't answer, I'll just have to use one of the toys in that box instead while you lay here, pathetic and needy, listening to me cum all by myself."

"Fuck, baby. Yeah, yes. Please. Can I cum? Can you make me cum?"

"Well," Regulus purred. "Since you asked so sweetly."

James felt his boxers being pulled down from his hips and he shifted his weight to help, his cock sprang free and he hissed at the feeling of the fabric when it brushed against his sensitive skin. Before he had adjusted to his cock free from the confines of his underwear, Regulus had taken him into his mouth, swallowing his entire length in one fluid motion. He pulled back, brushing the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock, then swirled his tongue around his sensitive tip. Regulus pushed his tongue into the slit, lapping at the pre-cum gathered there, then sucked his cock back into his mouth, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. He continued to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking before relaxing his throat and taking him impossibly deeper. James moaned, pushing his hips in time with Regulus' movements before he felt himself on the edge of his orgasm. 

"Reg, baby, I'm gonna—" Regulus gripped his thighs and pushed himself down, holding James deep to spill down his throat. James thrust his hips as he felt himself dissolve into pleasure, the hypersensitivity lending itself to a powerful orgasm. He felt Regulus pull away and he whined at the loss of contact. 

Regulus crawled up his body and ripped off the blindfold. James blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light of the room after being deprived for so long. "Hi, baby. You look so pretty with your lips swollen from sucking my cock."

"You have a big mouth for someone who still can't use his hands," Regulus teased. James watched as Regulus reached over him towards the box on the bed. He rustled around until he found what he was looking for and instead of leaning back into James' body, he pushed himself up and away. James stared at his ass as he walked across the room, missing the warmth of his body, but relishing in the view. Regulus dragged a chair from the vanity in front of the bed where James was perched and sat down, propping his feet on the edge of the bed on either side of James' knees with a cherry red vibrator in his hand. 

James sat upright, his legs dangling off the bed, and shifted his body closer to Regulus. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"You're going to watch until you learn to keep your mouth shut." 

"You're really gonna fuck yourself with a vibrator that's my favorite color and expect me to be quiet?"

"If you want to fuck me after, yes." Regulus turned on the vibrator, the hum of the toy filling the space between them. "I am more than happy to fuck myself until I'm satisfied if you decide not to learn your lesson, it won't be me going home with an aching cock."

Regulus leaned back into the chair, opening his legs wider to offer James a perfect view of how soaked he was before he brushed the toy over the sensitive nerves. James whined as Regulus moaned in pleasure, his cock already half hard from the view before him. Regulus pushed the vibrator inside of him and writhed, rocking his hips and crying out in pleasure. James could practically taste the orgasm building inside Regulus already. 

"Baby, you're so fucking pretty, I wish you could see yourself."

"Maybe I was wrong about you," Regulus said between moans, fucking himself on the vibrator without inhibitions. 

James hummed and leaned forward, dropping his bound arms between his knees so he could get himself closer to Regulus. "Wrong about what, baby?"

"Maybe you can't be trained after all." Regulus gasped, arching his back as he rode through another orgasm.

"Probably not," James laughed darkly. "I've never let anyone boss me around before. Give a man a little credit for his efforts? You're irresistible after all."

"Fuck it—" Regulus turned off the vibrator and tossed it on the bed next to James as he lowered his legs. He reached forward and undid the buckle of the belt binding James' arms together and massaged the skin there, ensuring that he hadn't lost any feeling in the limbs. 

James laced his fingers into Regulus' dark curls and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, his head spinning at the taste of himself on Regulus' lips. "We could still use the toy, you know."

Regulus raised an eyebrow in question, giving James a nonverbal prompt to continue.

"You could keep fucking yourself with that toy, which I loved watching by the way, holy fuck— And I could fuck that tight ass of yours at the same time."

Regulus sat in the chair staring for a moment, seemingly too stunned by the suggestion to speak. 

"If you don't want—"

"I want. I've just… I've never done that before. Both, at the same time."

"I'll make it so good for you, sweetheart." James leaned in for a quick kiss. "Get on the bed for me on all fours, yeah? I'm assuming you've got lube in this box of yours." He leaned back towards the box and rummaged through until he found a bottle of lube. As he searched, he felt the bed shift with Regulus' weight. When he looked back over, he saw Regulus on the bed with his ass in the air, staring at him with a glassy, contented expression. James picked up the discarded vibrator, turned it on, and handed it to Regulus. "Don't stop, baby."

He watched as Regulus adjusted his body so that he could fuck himself on the toy and moaned at the sight. Gripping Regulus' ass, James parted his cheeks and lapped at the ring of muscle while Regulus continued to writhe and moan beneath him. When James had determined that Regulus was thoroughly relaxed, he coated his fingers with lube and gently pushed in one finger. 

"You take me so good, baby. Fuck, it's like you were made for this." He continued to work Regulus open, pushing his finger in and out in time with the way Regulus was moving the vibrator. He coaxed a second finger inside and felt Regulus tense at the change. James used his other hand to rub soothing circles into his ass, whispering sweet words to relax him. "Just breathe, baby. You're doing so good. So good for me."

Regulus preened, relaxing almost instantly at the praise. He pushed his ass into James further, begging for more with his body instead of his words. James continued to work his fingers, opening him gently so that he would continue to relax into the feeling. He knew it would burn when he pushed his third finger in and when he did, he heard Regulus take in a sharp breath, but he didn't tense like he had earlier. Instead, he rocked into his hand, never once faltering in fucking himself with the vibrator. James felt the vibrations up his arm and groaned at the thought of how obscene it was going to feel to be inside of Regulus in just a few short moments. He continued to scissor his fingers, working Regulus open and prepping him to avoid the burn as much as possible. 

"Daddy, if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to lose my mind."

"I just want to make sure you're ready, baby." James moved his fingers slower, teasingly.

Regulus whined, pushing his ass back into James' hand. "Please, I'm fucking ready and you know it."

James hummed, pretending to be deep in thought and stilling his fingers. "I'm not sure you're begging nicely enough, baby."

"Please, Daddy. Please, I need your cock." Regulus arched his back impossibly further, tempting James with such a beautiful view he couldn't resist.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, baby." James pulled his fingers away and slicked his cock with lube before lining himself up at Regulus' entrance. "Remember to use your safe words, baby. If it hurts, pull the vibrator out, okay? It shouldn't hurt, just relax into it."

Regulus nodded.

"Words, baby." James was so close to losing his self control.

"Yes, Daddy. If it hurts, I'll stop. Now for the love of God, please fuck me already."

James laughed darkly and slapped Regulus' ass for the bratty behavior before he began to slowly inch himself inside. Regulus moaned, a needy and wanton thing, and James felt him slow the movement of the vibrator as he pushed himself into his body. The vibrations traveling through Regulus' body into his cock made his breath hitch with pleasure. He paused his movements when he bottomed out, waiting for Regulus to squirm or begin moving the toy again before he fucked into him with reckless abandon. 

"Fucking—Move, James."

James slapped his ass again, not moving an inch. "That's not who I am to you right now, baby. And that's not how you speak to me."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who was tied up a few minutes ago."

"You're having a real fucking power trip for someone who's filled up in every hole." James leaned forward and shoved two fingers in Regulus' mouth, pushing them deep and making Regulus gag from the surprise. When the shock subsided, Regulus moaned and swirled his tongue around. "I'm going to fuck you now and the only thing you're going to say is please and thank you, Daddy."

Regulus nodded around his fingers and James pulled away so he could finally move his hips. His pace was relentless, ignoring the pace that Regulus had set with the toy and fucking into him for nothing but the pursuit of his own pleasure. Regulus moaned and writhed beneath him, pushing his hips back into James in an attempt to keep pace. The vibrator continued to buzz, sending both of them into heightened sensitivity, and James knew that despite his earlier orgasm, he wasn't going to last long. 

"Please," Regulus moaned. His back was shiny with sweat and when he looked over his shoulder at James, he noticed that his usual waves were stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed with pleasure and James nearly came at the sight of him completely undone beneath him. 

"Please, what, baby?" James asked as he continued pounding into him.

"Wanna cum. Want you to cum. Please, Daddy."

"Want me to fill you up, baby?"

Regulus let out a loud moan and James felt his body tense in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby. I've got you, cum for me one more time. I'll give you what you need."

That was all it took for Regulus to become undone and at the feeling of those muscles tightening and relaxing around him, James came hard and fast. He thrusted impossibly deeper inside of Regulus and spilled every drop inside of his body, marveling at the feeling. 

Regulus pulled the toy out of himself and switched off the vibration before chucking it to the side on the bed and going completely limp beneath him. James collapsed on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close as he turned to his side, spooning Regulus while still inside of him. He didn't want to be apart yet. He needed this closeness after the intensity of what they had just done together. He kissed Regulus' shoulder and hummed a mindless melody to himself, completely sated and satisfied. 

After a few minutes, it was Regulus who broke the silence. "James, you-you're still inside of me and we're disgusting."

"Shh, sweetheart. One more minute." James felt his eyes growing heavy and his cock softening inside of Regulus' body.

"If we stay like this for one more minute, you're gonna fall asleep. We're sticky and gross. I can't sleep like this. Let's shower."

He felt Regulus pulling away and teasingly bit down on his shoulder, earning himself a rare laugh from Regulus, and then Regulus did pull away and James let out a whine. He opened his eyes and while his vision wasn't great without his glasses, it was clear enough to witness the eyeroll reserved just for him. Regulus held out his hand in offering and James groaned as he grabbed it and got up from the bed, allowing Regulus to lead him into the bathroom down the hall.

James watched as Regulus leaned over to adjust the water on the shower, staring at his ass and the evidence of his orgasm dripping out onto his thighs. He stepped closer and brushed a hand along Regulus' upper thigh, trailing up slowly, and gathered the cum leaking from his body onto his fingers. Regulus hitched a breath and leaned in, encouraging James to push his fingers inside of Regulus' ass. 

"Not satisfied?" Regulus asked on a breathy moan.

"More like you make me feel insatiable. Besides, you wanted me to fill you up. Seemed like a waste to have it dripping out of you already." He pumped his fingers a few times before pulling them out and smacking his ass playfully. "Shower's ready, yeah?"

"Hmm? O-oh, yeah." Regulus stepped into the stream of water and James followed right after, letting the warm water soothe his tired muscles. They went through the routine of showering, exchanging sweet kisses and pulling each other close. They washed each other's bodies and hair and James felt like he could cry over the small acts of intimacy that they shared. When they finished, Regulus turned off the water and James toweled him off slowly, methodically. He made sure to touch every part of his body with the plush towel, immediately followed by soft kisses. When Regulus was dry, James wrapped a towel around his own hips and kissed him gently, reverently. Savoring the taste of him on his mouth, he hoped that Regulus would know how precious he was without words.

"It's getting late…" Regulus murmured between kisses.

James kissed him again, pulling his body impossibly closer. "Can I stay?"

"James, listen—"

"If you want to keep this casual, I get it, I just…"

Regulus' brows knit together. "You're the one who said you don't date, James. The shower together was pushing my boundaries of domesticity for a casual hookup."

"I know what I said—"

"Look, it's late—"

"No, let me finish. Please?"

Regulus sighed, pulling away slightly and James shivered at the loss of him. "Fine, but can we put clothes on first?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "Yeah, let's get dressed and have some tea or something."

They padded back to the bedroom in silence and Regulus pulled out clean clothes from his dresser. James picked up his discarded clothing from the floor and winced at the idea of pulling them back onto his body when Regulus wordlessly handed him a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare band tee. 

"They might be a little tight, but that's the closest I've got to your size."

"Thanks, sweetheart." James smiled and pulled the clothes on. Regulus was right that they were a little tighter than he'd usually prefer, but they were still more comfortable than his jeans would have been. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and placed them back on his face.

Regulus' body was lost in the sea of baggy sweatpants and over-sized tee that he picked for himself and James smiled at the memory of meeting him for the first time and having to pull off so many layers that he lost count. He followed Regulus out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen where he filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil. 

"I—"

"Peppermint?" Regulus asked, effectively stopping James from beginning the conversation he was itching to have. "I also have lavender?"

"Peppermint is fine." He answered. He let the silence draw out between them as Regulus worked to prepare their tea and when he was finally handed a steaming mug, he followed Regulus into the living room and sat next to him on the couch. 

"Okay, now you can finish."

"I want to take you on a date."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "A date? This coming from the man who said he doesn't date."

"I don't—"

"And yet here you are, asking me for something you don't do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

James let out a breath, gathering his thoughts and his nerves. "I really like you—"

"You don't know—"

"Let me finish. You said I could finish." James looked at Regulus earnestly, begging him with his eyes to listen to what he had to say before reacting. 

Regulus leaned back into the couch and waved a hand for him to continue. 

"I don't date. I haven't ever wanted to until I met you. And maybe this is fucking crazy, I feel fucking crazy, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. Like I've known you in every life I've ever lived. Like I've loved you in every one of them. And sure, we don't know each other very well here and now, but I feel like I know you. Like I could grow to love you in this lifetime too. Those months where you had my number but didn't reach out? I felt like I was missing a limb I never knew I had before I met you. I didn't seek anyone out in our time apart, I mean— Fuck, the guys on the team made fun of me for not taking home girls when we'd go out like I usually did. For ignoring everyone who threw themselves at me. None of them were you. I don't expect us to just magically fall in love and live happily ever after, but I really want us to give this a real shot." James finally looked up at Regulus. His eyes were red rimmed and tears gathered there, on the precipice of being spilled. "Don't cry, baby, I'm sorry—"

"Do you mean it?" Regulus' voice was small and shaky, like he was afraid to be this vulnerable.

"I do. But I need you to know before you agree to go out with me that we'd have to keep us a secret. At least until after the drafts. I-I really want this, I really want us, but I've been working my entire life to get into the NFL and they're just…"

"You can't be openly queer in football." Regulus said, his voice hollow and empty of emotion. The tears gathered in his eyes rolled down his cheeks and James leaned forward to wipe them away with his thumb.

"Not yet. I can be the first, but I need to get drafted first. I'm willing to be the first, if it means I get to keep you, as long as you know what kind of attention would fall onto you too."

"What kind of attention?"

"The homophobic kind. The picking apart everything about you and your life kind. The transphobic kind, undoubtedly."

Regulus flinched.

"I don't need an answer tonight, it's late and it's a lot to think about—"

"Ask me again."

"Regulus…"

"Ask me again."

"Can I stay the night?"

"Yes, James. I'd love that. But on one condition."

James smiled. "Anything for you."

"You have to take me out to breakfast in the morning. On a date."

"I'd be honored, baby."

[folkling]

Folkling Save File WIP - Newcrest Park

So, this is what I thought about building earlier, another park lol. This is was by far the hardest thing I've used the TOOL mod for. For some reasons there are literal holes in the map and there's literally nothing to interact with. So, I had to finesse every asset damn near into place - the freaking hard way. I literally hate this game, but I love it so much.

Anyway, I'm still not done with it, I still need to blend the grass, add shrubs, fences, benches, lights, and figure out what to do with that road to nowhere.

[avocado-writing]

Hey there I hope you’re having a wonderful day, could I make a request for bg3? I’d like to request the crew with a noble barbarian tav, kind of like Godfrey from Elden ring. Normally they are very regal, eloquent, and in control, they might even think they are some knight until they finally let loose. Whether it’s their s/o in danger or a challenging battle, they just go to town, very ‘I have give thee courtesy enough!’.

oh anon, you're very kind to think that I'm a competent enough gamer to have played elden ring. writing these scenarios as if they're seeing you go into a rage for the first time!

Astarion

Very much an 'oh. oh! oh...' moment for him.

Doesn't want to confess that he's attracted to the way you go feral, but anyone looking at him during battle will see how he is affected.

He already thought you were charming with your eloquence and courtly mannerisms, but this drives him wild. The idea you had this potential thrumming through your veins this whole time is delicious.

He can smell the blood pumping through your veins as you rage and does something for him. If you're together, expect a visit from him that night.

Gale

Loves to engage you in long, thoughtful conversations over tea every night. Did not expect this side to you.

At first he thinks some untowards magic has been cast on you, but then he sees how in control you are even when you're letting loose.

Is flustered and flattered when you make sure he's safe in battle, using your rage to protect his body with yours.

Afterwards when you check he's okay he has to try and hide how much he's blushing as he stammers out an affirmative. Asks you lots of questions about the nature of your rage. Can't stop staring at you when you're in battle...

Wyll

Lets out a little "oh, my!" when you first rage in front of him.

A bit gobsmacked but jumps back into action, quickly helping you fend off whatever enemies have caused your ire.

Is over it remarkably quickly, and takes it in his stride - in camp the two of you discuss court and your respective times in it, laughing at tales of long gone social faux-pas...

And on the battlefield you are a machine cutting down everything in your wake as he uses finesse to dispatch your foes. He thinks you are night and day... but that you are wonderful.

Karlach

Sees you rage for the first time and she lets out a "FUCK YEAH!"

Drops into a rage by your side and the two of you absolutely decimate the battlefield. The gang of mercenaries who came for you never knew what hit them.

After you wipe your brow with an embroidered handkerchief from your pocket and offer her a spare, which she takes and uses (completely destroying it in the process with soot from her engine)

Geeks out with you every day about raging. The two of you discuss battle tecniques and play-wrestle, which more often than not brings down half the camp. She loves it. She thinks you're perfect.

Lae'zel

Never really gave you the time of day before now. She found your elegant manner irritating. Why use honeyed words when you can cut straight to the point?

But then, oh, she sees you rage, and she is enamoured.

That night demands that you tell her why you never said that you could fight like that. You have an argument saying you never felt the need to... it goes on until the two of you calm down and end up sitting well into the night discussing how you grew up as warriors.

She has a respect for you from then on, confident you can look after yourself on the battlefield. More often than not she watches you fight with an appreciative eye.

Shadowheart

Oh, she's thrilled. We know she likes barbarians anyway (see her thirsty dialogue about Karlach) so when you rage in front of her?

She just stares for a bit. It's all she's able to do.

When that staring leaves her vulnerable to attack and you come and defend her, oh, she's gone. She has such a crush on you. If she had one before, it's doubled.

You're always the first one she comes to check on after battle. She likes to lay her hands on your bicep as she's healing you, perhaps feeling the muscle a bit more than is necessary. Her cheeks are always bright pink.

[bizarrelittlemew]

going down (with the ship)

[ explicit, s1e4 canon-divergent, Ed/Stede, ao3 ]

"It's September 1st, boss." "What's that, mate?" "It's September the 1st." "Dickfuck, no it's not."

Turns out it is. Dickfucking damnit.

And now Ed is lying spread out on the sofa in the captain's cabin, drinking brandy straight from the bottle and waiting for the sea to take him. At least it's some damn smooth brandy. All things considered, not the worst thing to be the last thing to taste on this Earth.

Unless—

Well. Ever since seeing him naked when they switched clothes earlier, Ed had kinda started to hope that he'd get a taste of Stede Bonnet at some point. Hadn't planned on bringing it up this early, though. He hasn't even had time to plan how he'd go about that. And he likes a good plan.

But plans have already betrayed him tonight, and if they're going down with the ship anyway, what's the harm in asking?

Now he just needs a smooth opener.

"Have you ever tried fellatio?"

Or, like, dive right in.

Stede looks up. Looks somewhere between surprised, bemused, and curious, but not horrified. That's something.

"You mean sucking dick?"

"Whuh—" Ed nearly chokes on that, like he'd like to choke on—anyway, he clears his throat. Did not expect that from this fancy man. Promising, though. "I mean, yeah. Yep. Or like, getting your dick sucked."

"Can't say I have, no. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunately."

They let that hang in the air for a bit, just looking at each other.

"Well... uhm. Do you wanna?" Real smooth, Teach.

Stede's lips curl into a slightly nervous but mostly excited smile.

"I guess there's no time like the present."

"Not much time at all, mate."

And the nervousness completely dissipates, replaced by sheer eagerness as Stede nearly trips over himself in his haste to get out of his arm chair, falls to the floor, walks on his knees to Ed's side, and starts unbuttoning the fall front on his breeches before Ed can catch up to what is happening.

"Wow, hey, I meant—you know what, never mind." Ed is not going to protest if Stede really wants to suck his dick, even if he imagined it the other way around, and damn, it seems that Stede really, really wants to suck his dick. He wonders if all fancy, rich lads are this hungry for cock. Maybe that's why they're like that.

Maybe not. Ed gets a feeling that Stede is different.

Different from anyone else who has ever touched Ed's dick before, too, and oh god, Stede is touching—licking his dick, sucking the head into his mouth and moaning, going at it as if Ed's cock contains the secret that might save them all if only Stede can suck it out.

Ed groans and buries his fingers into Stede's hair just as he starts bobbing his head, making up for any lack of finesse with pure enthusiasm, and okay, Ed is more than a bit bitter about this being his last night alive, because if this is Stede's baseline, Ed would've liked to be along for the ride while Stede developed his skill to its full potential.

Too bad that it will all be ending too soon—their lives, and the glorious experience of stuffing Stede's face full of his cock, because the way Stede closes his eyes and sucks around him is rapidly drawing Ed closer to the edge.

He only just manages to warn Stede before he comes, tries tugging at his hair to let him know he might want to pull off, but Stede just hums with encouragement and takes him deeper.

If this is to be his last orgasm, he might have found peace with his fate.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ed slumps, staring up at the ceiling, then takes a swig of the bottle still in the hand he isn't using to pet Stede's head. He is just about ready for the sea to swallow him up like Stede just swallowed him down.

And yet.

Ed got a good look at Stede's equipment earlier, and he's still determined to get the close-up experience. Also, there is a sizeable bulge at the front of Stede's—Ed's—pants, and if Stede comes in his leathers, it will sort of suck to clean them up later. In case there is a 'later', if they somehow miraculously escape this.

"Alright, c'mere." Ed pats his chest.

"What?"

"Come up here, fuck my face."

"Are you—what?" Stede looks like one big question mark, but despite that, he is already climbing onto the sofa above Ed, knees on either side of his shoulders.

"C'mon, we don't have much time."

Stede opens the fall front, letting his cock spring free. Ed licks his lips.

"Maybe I can choke to death on cock before the Spanish get me."

"Let's try to avoid that, shall we?"

Ed is not sure he agrees, and shows it by grabbing Stede's hips and shoving him forward, taking in as much as he can of it in one go, which turns out to be half of it. Stede's yelp turns into a groan, and he quickly gets the picture, soon thrusting into Ed's mouth with rough abandon. He turns out to be even more of a natural at face-fucking than cock-sucking.

Yup, this is a much better last thing to taste (and fill his throat). Only surpassed by the last last thing, the taste of Stede as he coats his tongue with come. Ed doesn't even get emotional over the sweet things Stede babbles as he comes, all while stroking Ed's cheek with his thumb.

Okay, maybe he gets a little emotional. Mostly sad that he doesn't have time to do this, like, five hundred times more. At least.

As Stede sits heavily on Ed's chest, catching his breath, still mumbling something, Ed blinks and turns his head to the side. Catches sight of the thing Stede had been sitting with in the chair, the thing he dropped in his rush to get on his knees by Ed's side.

"What's that painting?"

[beefy-the-stronk]

Why are my drawings so orang

Anyways, pepper studies. I refreshed myself by studying from the actual sprites (and put in a few poses of my own). I also am polishing my manpepper design cus it needed some finesse

It's almostttt been a year later and I still love this cheeky smug pepper ough

[joelalorian]

beneath the silent boughs, whispers of danger flow

Frankie Morales x f!reader | WC: 5.8k | 18+ mdni | masterlist

Summary: An adventure planned to impress you goes sideways, leaving Frankie scrambling to get you both out alive.

Warnings: Cursing, danger, drugs, guns, injuries, and some good ol' outdoor sexy times (blow job and p eating). Established relationship. Set in Florida panhandle (so no mountains, unfortunately). Reader is a blank slate except for hair in a ponytail. No use of y/n.

A/N: Written for the Summer Lovin 2024 writing challenge created by @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery, and @amanitacowboy (thank you, lovelies!). I was given the above moodboard and the following prompts: Hiking, Frankie, and 'you always carry an extra pair?' I had a lot of fun with this, so thank you ladies (gn)! Also, thank you to @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

“I want to take you hiking.”

You stilled, head swiveling to stare at Frankie incredulously. “Hiking? Frankie, this is Florida. There’s no hiking here.”

Undeterred, he smiled until that enticing little dimple in his cheek came out to say hi. “Not Colorado level hiking like you’re used to, no. But we do have some hills and caves in the Panhandle that I want to show you. Have you ever been caving?”

“No, I’ve never been caving. I make it a rule to avoid bats, so caving is a hard pass,” you replied, scrunching your nose up in distaste, an expression Frankie found endearing.

Frankie stared up at you from his prone position on the bed while you fixed your hair. He could watch you for hours. “Oh, come on! You’ve hiked the Rockies with grizzlies and shit, but you’re telling me bats cross the line?”

A few short steps closed the distance between the vanity and the bed, and your fingers reached out to run through Frankie’s mop of messy curls. “We all have our limits, chulo. Besides, why are you so insistent on this?”

Shrugging, he sat up, one large hand grasping your wrist. Frankie placed a series of kisses along the soft, supple skin along the underside of your forearm. “I dunno. I just want to impress you, you know? Take you hiking somewhere you’ve never been before.” His free hand scrubbed at the back of his neck in that nervous tick of his. “I can’t afford to take you on fancy trips, so…”

Still in the early days of your relationship, Frankie labored under the impression that you needed to be wooed. Little did he know you fell for him the moment you laid eyes on him, the night your best friend introduced you to her boyfriend’s best friends. Classic friends to lovers trope, it took you both a while to fess up to the depth of your true feelings, but when you finally did…

Things were good, really good.

“Babe, you don’t need to take me on fancy trips. I don’t want you to take me on fancy trips, not unless it’s somewhere you really want to go,” you emphasized, your hands cradling his face. Placing a soft kiss on his pouty lips, the scruff of his beard tickling your chin, you continued, “I want us to do things together, share the burden together. If we want to travel, we’ll plan something together. Fancy’s not really my style anyway.”

When you pulled back, Frankie followed, his lips seeking yours once again. The kiss deepened as you sat on the bed, his tongue licking into your mouth and caressing yours with such finesse it set your soul on fire. You didn’t have time to follow through on the promise of that kiss, though.

“We have to get going or we’ll be late,” you reprimanded, easing back to your feet.

“I’m sure Benny would understand if we were late to his match,” Frankie pouted, his large hands trying so hard to grasp your hips and pull you back in. You dodged him with artful precision, using the defensive moves he taught you.

“Nuh uh, come on. I’ll let you take me hiking this weekend if you get your ass moving right now.”

After a five-hour road trip followed by a restful sleep in the cabin Frankie booked, you found yourself clinging to Frankie’s broad frame for warmth on a guided cave tour in the Florida Caverns State Park on Saturday morning. The temperature difference between the surface and the cave more than you bargained for, you’d freeze without your boyfriend’s arm around you or the long-sleeved shirt he pulled from his backpack.

The whole ride up from Tampa, you thought Frankie wanted to do the full-on spelunking experience, repelling down cave walls with helmets and belay lines, exploring crevices and shit. It turned out he just wanted to go on a guided walking tour of the caves – nothing crazy or dangerous. Thank goodness! You were adventurous, but not quite that much!

The stalagmites and stalactites were actually pretty cool, especially backlit as they were with thoughtfully placed lighting features chosen by the park staff, but you preferred to explore nature’s offerings aboveground. At least there were zero bat sightings!

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Frankie asked once the tour concluded, and you were left to explore the surface of the park on your own or head back to the car. His arm still around your shoulders, the last of the lingering chill fading away, you smiled up at him.

“Nah, it was pretty cool, actually,” you admitted. Stripping off the extra layer, you handed it back to Frankie. “Thanks for this, babe.”

He beamed at that, tossing a fist in the air. “One point for me then!”

“Easy there, flyboy.” Patting his chest with a hearty laugh, you asked, “Where do we want to explore next?”

Glancing at his watch, Frankie hummed. “Let’s go check out Apalachicola National Forest - we saw it on the drive over. It’s huge and there are lots of less traveled trails to check out.”

“’Less traveled trails’ huh? You plan on murdering me and disposing my body off one of those trails?” You bumped your shoulder against his as you teased.

“Pssshhh, never,” he replied with a laugh, kissing your forehead as you climbed into his car. Once he settled in the driver’s seat, Frankie turned to you with a devilish grin. “I had other things in mind when considering which trails to explore.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” He merely smirked at you.

The drive between the two areas went by quick, Frankie trying his best to one up you on hiking knowledge and bragging about rucking miles with a 50-pound rucksack in the military.

“Your skills are clearly legendary, chulo. My leisurely day hikes along the easiest trails in the Rockies have nothing on you.” Flashing him a teasing wink, you double knotted your hiking boots and grabbed your backpack, which likely weighed a tenth of what Frankie used to carry. Eyeing the pack he tossed over his shoulders, you asked, “How much does that one weigh, tough guy?”

“You tease now, la bronquinosa, but you never know if you’re gonna need something from this pack.” He shot a quick text off to Santi, letting him know where you two were headed just in case. Cell reception could be spotty in the area, he warned you on the ride up.

You followed Frankie toward the main trail marker, enjoying the view of his backside as you did. “That’s my Frankie, always the voice of reason.”

Despite the sun being near the midpoint of the sky, the forest canopy blocked most of the heat. Still, it was Florida, so you hiked in shorts and tee shirts to avoid overheating, skin slathered in sunblock and bug spray. You strolled in peaceful silence for a while, letting the sounds of nature wash over you as Frankie led the way with his innate sense of direction to the trail he wanted to check out.

You passed a few folks on the main trail, mostly couples or small families out exploring the shorter loop. As you progressed farther into the forest and off the main trail, it felt like you were the only two people amongst a sea of flora. Hiking and chatting about whatever came to mind turned out to be a great way to spend a Saturday with your handsome, rugged boyfriend.

After a while, he pulled you off the trail into a copse of trees along a small creek. A flat rock outcrop right next to the river marked the perfect place to take a break. Frankie dug the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he made the day before out of his pack, handing one to you. The two of you sat on the rock and devoured the sandwiches and a bottle of water each as you enjoyed the serenity of the water babbling in the creek.

Once your stomachs were sated, Frankie leant over and kissed your neck in that spot that always set your senses on fire. Glancing around, you confirmed that no one traveling along the trail would see you before giving into the sensations.

“You’re giving me goosebumps, chulo,” you crooned, fingers knocking the cap from his head to run through his thick, curly locks.

Frankie continued his ministrations, nipping and sucking little love bites on your sensitive skin as he worked his way down your body. Before long, he was on his knees, working your shorts open and down your thighs with nimble fingers until they slipped to the ground. “Time for dessert, I think,” he said before pulling the gusset of you’re already soaked panties aside. His dark eyes soaked in the view of your glistening pussy for several long moments before diving into lap at your juices.

Back arching in pleasure, your hips slid forward on the rock, legs spread wide for Frankie. Mewls and moans left your lips, echoing off the trees as he worked your clit with his tongue, one thick finger dipping inside you.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you gasped when he hit that spongy bundle of nerves with the curl of his finger. Master at eating pussy that he was, Frankie had you coming, hard, in minutes, and he drank up every drop that leaked from you.

He sat back on his haunches after working you through it, mustache and chin scruff glistening with the evidence of a job well done as he grinned. “Mmm, that’s the best dessert a man could ask for.”

You grinned back at him, slinking from atop the rock to join him on the ground, hands already grabbing for the button of his shorts. “My turn.”

Without further ado, Frankie fell back on the ground, legs straightening as you eased his shorts down his slim hips. Mindful of the wilderness, you left his boxer briefs in place, one hand delicately extracting his hardened length from the hidden opening. Frankie had the most beautiful cock you’d ever seen – long and girthy, perfect upward curve and a prominent vein on the underside that just begged for you to lick it.

He watched you with those dark chocolate, baby cow eyes, pouty lips dropped open as you swiped the flat of your tongue along his entire length. Those beautiful eyes about rolled back in his head when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, tongue tracing along the little slit in search of precum.

Sucking his cock into your mouth eagerly, you drew lewd moans and whimpers from Frankie. “Fuck, carino. You’re so good at this. You were made to suck my cock.” One large hand grasped your ponytail, wrapping the hair around his palm to direct your movements. His other hand clawed at the ground, fingernails scraping into the dirt.

On edge, Frankie pulled you back by the hair, giving you both a chance to catch your breath before the pressure of his hand forced your mouth back down onto his cock. You took him deep, the broad head hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. You loved the feel of nearly choking on him, knowing how much he fucking loved it.

At the gentle scrape of your teeth along his mushroom head, Frankie lost it. Thick ropes of cum hit your tongue as your mouth continued working him until he was a whimpering mess from the overstimulation.

It took a few minutes to recover, Frankie’s chest heaving as he caught his breath from the coming so mind-blowingly hard. You stood to find your shorts on to note the uncomfortable dampness of your panties. Frankie looked up from buttoning his own shorts at your groan.

“What’s wrong, carino?”

Your hips shifted awkwardly, trying to adjust to the feeling as you pulled your shirts up your legs. “My panties are uncomfortably wet,” you whined, shoulders slumped.

Head shaking, Frankie chuckled. “Don’t worry, I got you covered, hermosa.” Digging around in his pack, he pulled out a fresh pair of your panties.

Mouth dropping open, you just stared at him for a moment. “You always carry an extra pair of my underwear around with you?”

Frankie laughed as you snatched them from his hand. “I’ve learned the hard way to always be prepared, hermosa. I carry an extra pair of everything.”

“Fucking boy scout,” you muttered under your breath, yanking on the fresh panties followed by your shorts.

“No, hermosa, fucking Delta Force,” he replied with a cheeky wink.

Once you were both sufficiently put together again, he kissed you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip like it was a gummy worm. “Alright, hermosa, ready to keep going?” Frankie asked, scooping his hat from where you tossed it and placing it on his head.

You nodded, grasping his hand to lead the way back to the trail. A thin sheen of sweat from the recent activities covered your bodies as you walked. After a while, Frankie steered you off onto a trail that looked like it had barely ever been used. Vegetation grew in an arch over the limited path, leaving you feeling like an explorer traversing undiscovered land. You watched the ground carefully, trying to avoid tripping over exposed roots. So focused were you on the ground that you didn’t see the low hanging limb that Frankie ducked under in time.

“Ow! Fuck, that hurt!” you exclaimed when your forehead smacked into the unforgiving hardwood, nearly knocking you off your feet.

Startled at your exclamation, Frankie turned to find you ducking under the tree, hand hovering over a gash in your forehead. “Oh shit! Hermosa, let me see.” He eased your hand away, thick fingertips assessing the damage with tender touches.

“Does it look as bad as it feels?” you asked, voice pitched higher due to the pain.

“That tree branch gotcha pretty good,” Frankie admitted, slipping the pack from his shoulders. He kept talking as he dug through the pack for his trusty first aid kit. “It’s bleeding a lot, like head wounds do, but I don’t think you need stitches or anything.”

“Well thank fuck for that. It better not scar,” you grumbled, letting your boyfriend tend to your wound. His nose scrunched up, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated on tenderly cleaning the wound.

“There you go, almost good as new,” he said after placing a gentle kiss over the bandage he’d just secured over the gash.

“My hero,” you teased, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Waving you off with a chuckle, Frankie hefted the pack over his shoulders and took your hand. “Want to call it a day or keep going? I’m good with whatever you want to do.”

You pretended to mull it over for a moment. “Let’s keep going. We didn’t come all this way just to hike for an hour.”

If only you knew how much you’d regret those words.

Deeper into the forest, you spotted a great horned owl perched in a live oak, eyes closed and blending in so well you almost missed it. The bird of prey only cracked an eye open when you stepped on particularly crunchy detritus trying to get closer. Frankie snapped a few pictures of the owl, along with a couple of snakes, ospreys, and even a bald eagle that you spotted on the hike.

At a small clearing, you stopped for a water break. Something off in the brush caught your eye when you bent to retie your shoe. Squinting, you needed confirmation from Frankie on what you were seeing.

“Babe, take a look at this,” you called him over to where you hunched down. “Look over there, just past the thick brush, in that patch of sunlight. Is that what I think it is?”

Frankie followed your line of sight, eyebrows raised. “If you’re thinking those are a couple of pot plants, then yes.”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you stepped closer to the hidden plants. “What in the world are they doing out here? There’s only a few. Maybe we should take a bit to enjoy back at the camp.”

Frankie stepped up behind you, shocked at your audacity. “Hermosa, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know who that belongs to. I can tell you right now, whoever it is, they are definitely the type of people we do not want to steal from.”

“Oh, please,” you waved him off, stepping through the underbrush until you closed in on the pot plants. “I’ll only grab a bit; they’ll hardly notice a few buds missing.”

“Fuck,” Frankie hissed, following when you didn’t stop at the first plant you reached. You snapped off a flower from a few plants, trying to be discreet and not just shred an entire plant. You noticed a few more plants and followed the narrow clearing between trees to reach them.

The pattern continued as curiosity took over, following the small patches until you stepped out of the protection of the trees into a larger clearing with far more plants and evidence of some kind of clandestine drug operation surrounding you. A rundown cabin sat to one side, windows covered from the inside and caked with dirt on the outside. A growing pile of trash peaked from behind it. The arid smell of ammonia hung in the air stinging Frankie’s lungs.

The sound of dogs barking sounded nearby, yet his scan of your surroundings didn’t locate them. He did, however, count two pickup trucks and a few all-terrain vehicles. This was very much not good. It only became worse when a couple of men exited the cabin, standing on the beaten down porch for an apparent cigarette break.

“Hermosa, we need to get the fuck out of here.” He tugged you down out of sight, slipping a hand over your mouth as you yelped. He didn’t smother the sound in time, and it drew the attention of the men. Frankie hurriedly dragged you by the hand back to the thick forest, shouts from the men echoing behind you.

Somehow, you both lost sight of the unmarked trail you came from. Hugging the tree line until Frankie found a spot to slip through the thicket, you looked over your shoulder. Your eyes widened as one of the men reached behind him, pulling a pistol out of the back of his pants.

“Oh no, that can’t be good,” you groaned, drawing Frankie’s attention as you turned around to hurry into the woods. He immediately clocked the guy with the gun, running across the clearing, as the other men started up the ATVs, engines roaring to life.

“We need to move!” Frankie’s voice pitched deeper than usual, urgency taking over as gunshots rang in the air, pulling you deeper into the thicket. One hand dug in his pack, removing a Glock 9mm from a hidden pocket. He let go of your hand for a moment to check the clip and pull back the slide, humming in satisfaction once it was locked and loaded.

You just followed numbly, doe-eyed and head aching from the gash, panic already setting in. “Are those guys gonna come after us?” you squeaked.

“Most likely,” Frankie replied, mind whirling. He didn’t want to scare you, but you needed to know the truth. “We weren’t meant to find that place. It smelled like a meth lab; did you notice that? We need to hoof it, find somewhere to lay low while I come up with a plan.”

The two of you raced through the woods, relying on Frankie’s innate sense of direction and his memory of geological features you passed during your hike. You breathed a sigh of temporary relief that the barely-there path you followed was in no way wide enough for the ATVs, the engine sounds growing distant.

“Come on, hermosa. We need to keep moving, but I also need to check the phone for a signal. Can you dig it out of the front pocket of my bag without stopping?” Frankie’s demeaner remained calm, collected as you practically fell apart.

“S-sure,” you replied, voice as shaky as your trembling hands. With awkward, jerky movements, you managed to unzip and remove Frankie’s cell phone from the pack while keeping up with his rushed movement through the forest. Powering the phone on, you waited as it searched for a signal.

Two bars… that had to be enough, right?

“Here, there’s not much signal.” You handed the phone to Frankie and watched as he quickly pulled up Santi’s contact.

Your fingers crossed until the call went through. Frankie spoke frantically into the phone once Santi answered, but you couldn’t decipher what he said. The sound of your own breathing and pounding heart echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. You don’t know how long they talked – it could have been minutes or hours – but you watched the tension in Frankie’s shoulders ease ever so slightly when he ended the call.

“The boys aren’t far. They were headed up here already, jealous of the adventure we’re on or some shit,” Frankie explained, still maintaining a hurried pace back toward the main trail. “Santi’s gonna call the cops, tell ‘em what we saw. I gotta send him coordinates.”

At last, Frankie slowed to a stop, eyes searching the sea of trees in every direction, trying to figure out where to go as his fingers worked his phone, sending a text to Santi with approximate coordinates based on your current location.

“What are we gonna do?” you asked, a chill washing over you despite the searing heat of the day. Your arms wrapped around yourself, seeking comfort any way you could find it.

Glancing up once the text went through, Frankie took in your obvious panic. “Hermosa, baby, it’s ok. We’re gonna be ok. I just have to find us somewhere to lay low for a bit until the boys or the authorities get here.”

He’d kill for a topographical map right then.

“Let’s head back for that creek where we… you know. We’ll need to get creative to stay out of sight in case any of those guys are tracking us. Okay, hermosa?”

You nodded; bottom lip squished between your teeth to keep it from wobbling. “I’ll do whatever you tell me, babe.”

“That’s my good girl,” Frankie smiled then, lightening the mood for a moment. Grasping your hand, he set off again, paced hurried but still manageable on the uneven path. The last thing he needed was for you to roll an ankle tripping over an exposed root as you ran through the forest.

The ATV engines rumbled in the background, reminding you both that the bad men were still out there, searching for you. Time became this weird, liminal thing as Frankie led you through the forest, never stopping until he spotted rocky outcrops, the stream from earlier visible beyond.

“Time to get creative. You ready?” His hands came up to frame your face, dark eyes searching your own. At your nod, Frankie leant in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, thumbs stroking your cheeks. Pulling back, his eyes never left yours. “I love you; did you know that? I think I loved you from the moment we met.”

Flummoxed, you giggled, brows raised in shock. “And this is the moment you choose to tell me?”

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, chagrined. One hand dropped from your face to swipe at the back of his neck. “I…”

“I love you, too, Frankie. Always have, always will. Just, please, get me out of here alive.” You pressed your lips to his, tongue slipping into his mouth to tangle with his for a moment. It might have been a weird time to exchange the L-word, but it served to lessen your panic. You could so easily lose yourself in the moment, if not for the sound of the ATVs. Were they getting closer?

“I won’t let anything happen to you, hermosa. Not now, not ever.”

You followed Frankie down to the stream and watched as he dipped his hands into the water, scooping up some of the sediment with his fingers. He beckoned you to crouch next to him. Once you did, he swiped his fingers across your cheeks, leaving dark swatches of clay-like sediment to dry on your skin. Continuing the movements, he covers portions of your exposed skin and even swipes some over your clothing. Satisfied, he turned to do the same to his own skin and clothes until you both looked ready for war.

“Camouflage?” you inquired, finally understanding.

Frankie nodded. “Exactly. We’re gonna hunker down over there,” he pointed to a particular outcrop with a large indent in the soil on one side of it. “This will just help us blend in.” Before leading you over to the boulder, he swiped some more mud over both of your clothes for good measure, trying to dull the brightness of the fabric.

Clearing out some additional space beneath the boulder, Frankie guided you into the spot, sliding in next to you. Once in place, he covered you both with any foliage he could reach. “We need to stay quiet now, ok? Just hang out until we hear from the guys, or the other dudes get close.”

You nodded, tucking your head into the crook of Frankie’s neck. Breathing in the musky scent of him calmed your anxiety, anchoring you down from the overwhelming fear threatening to cloud your senses.

“I’ll keep you safe, hermosa. I swear. Te amo,” Frankie whispered against your hair, one muscular arm flung over you, drawing you in tighter to his body.

Time crawled, just like your skin at the thought of bugs crawling over you. You fought the urge to fidget, to scratch at the skin of your legs. The sun dipped in the skin, the light of day fading. At long last, the phone buzzed in Frankie’s pocket and he carefully, quietly extracted it. A text from Santi letting you know the guys arrived and were spreading out to search the forest for you. Frankie sent updated coordinates for your current location, and you silently prayed that they’d find you before the bad guys.

You counted to sixty in your head ten times before the first sound of nearby movement startled you. “Shhh,” Frankie purred in your ear, his right hand slowly, subtly moving toward his waistline to grasp the Glock. His left hand typed a quick, cryptic message to Santi, an answering buzz coming almost immediately.

“Fuck,” he hissed at the message as the sound of crunching leaves and cracking twigs grew closer, louder. It wasn’t Santi, Ben, or Will making the noise. He could only hope it was a large animal, but Frankie knew deep down that it wasn’t. “Hermosa, we’re gonna have to move.”

“Why?” you breathed, panic rising once again.

“That’s not our guys, making that racket,” Frankie whispered. “When I say go, you need to run. Go through the creek, get to the other side and follow the water as long as you can. I’ll catch up to you.”

“What? No! I’m not leaving you!” you whispered harshly, head shaking imperceptibly.

“Sshhh, you have to. Trust me, please? I love you. This is me making sure nothing happens to you.”

You wanted to argue, the words right there on the tip of your tongue, but Frankie’s beautiful, dark umber eyes pleaded with you to listen, to do what he said. There was an unexpected hint of fear in his eyes, something you never thought you’d see. It went against every fiber in your being, but you nodded. You would do what he said, run until you couldn’t anymore and just hope that he stayed right behind you.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Frankie eased up, peeking over the outcrop in the direction the noises were coming from. Two men – ones he saw back at that cabin – scanned the woods, searching for the two of you. He ducked back down, helping you to a squat position.

“It’s now or never, hermosa. Remember what I said, through the creek to the other side and follow the water. Just be careful – it’s getting darker as the sun sets. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I love you, Frankie. Please don’t do anything stupid.” Part of you ached to stay with him, to face the danger head on together. But you knew you couldn’t.

“I love you. Go. Now!” He shot to his feet; pistol raised to cover you.

Heart pounding in your chest, so hard you felt it in your throat, you stumbled to your feet and ran. Your hiking boots splashed through the calf-deep water of the creek before you scrambled up the other bank. Gun shots pierced the air, and you swore a bullet whizzed past your head.

“Fuck!” you screamed, running full tilt through the trees, staying close to the stream but using the forest for cover. Deep voiced shouts echoed behind you, more gunfire. A stitch ached in your side, still you ran. You tripped over roots, falling to the ground as the sky grew darker. Still, you ran. Even your head bouncing off a rock following one particularly hard fall didn’t stop you from scrambling back to your feet. You ran and ran and ran.

Feet carried you as far as your lungs allowed before you fell again, gasping for breath, body tucked behind a large live oak, hoping against hope that the trunk hid you from view. Entire body trembling from the adrenaline, an eardrum piercing scream burst from your lips when a hand reached out from around the tree, grabbing your shoulder.

Fighting with the little strength left in your body, you kicked and clawed at the owner of the hand, struggling as hard as you could to get away. In the heat of the moment, you forgot every tactic Frankie taught you.

“Sshhhh, it’s okay, hermanita. It’s just me.” A voice you recognized broke through the panic and all the fight left your body at once. You sank against Santi’s strong body, forcing him to hold you upright. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Santi,” you cried, tears flowing down your cheeks in relief. “Frankie… he needs—”

“The boys are backing him up, he’s okay. Come on, I gotta get you to safety or your boyfriend will shoot me himself.” Santiago guided you around and over some obstacles, leading you back to Frankie’s car.

By the time you got there, a park ranger and county sheriff’s deputy were waiting, along with an ambulance. You frantically searched the parking area for signs of Frankie or the Miller brothers, but there were none. You met Santi’s gaze with pleading eyes, begging him to find Frankie.

“Let the medics check you out, hermanita. I’ll figure out where the others are.” He handed you off to the medics, instructing them to treat you with care or face the consequences before he turned to speak with law enforcement.

The cut on your forehead reopened when you fell while running, the pain just hitting you now that you were truly safe, and the adrenaline drained away. The rest was a blur, getting treated by the medics, speaking with the park ranger and deputy. All of it a haze, until Frankie appeared from the trail, supported by Benny and Will.

“Why are you covered in blood?” you blurted once they brought Frankie close enough. Still covered in the natural camouflage from the stream, he looked a wreck. Frankie’s beloved ballcap gone, hair awry and threaded with leaves, abrasions marring his handsome face, blood soaking through the right side of his shirt. “Were you shot?”

Feeling like a marionette, you allowed Santi to guide you out of the way as the medics tended to Frankie. Your eyes never left his while the medics triaged his injuries before loading him into the back of the ambulance.

“Go with him, we’ll meet you there,” Santi urged, gently pushing you forward. He helped you climb up to sit next to Frankie’s stretcher, smiling encouragingly as he closed the doors.

Thirty-six hours later, you and the boys were on your way home. You spent much of that time at Frankie’s bedside, refusing to leave. DEA agents resorted to interviewing you and Frankie in his hospital room as you adamantly refused to meet them anywhere else.

Apparently, you and Frankie happened upon a well-established meth operation. The pot plants that drew you in were the least of what the agents found upon raiding the camp. Frankie and the boys subdued two of the drug traffickers before Frankie suffered a hit from a third man who snuck up on their six. The agents and sheriff’s department took care of the rest. With all that the authorities found, they doubted they’d need either of you to testify, but the agents told you they’d be in touch if necessary.

You doted on Frankie, holding him close in the backseat of his truck while Santi drove. Benny and Will following behind you in Will’s car. Fingers threaded through his hair in soothing strokes as he laid across the seat with his head in your lap. The wound still fresh, it hurt him too much to sit up for the five-hour drive home.

“You know what, chulo?” you asked quietly, bending forward to tilt your head over Frankie’s.

“Hmmm?” he gazed up at you, nearly purring in contentment as you scratched your nails against his scalp in slow, tender motions.

“I still have all those buds I nicked,” you grinned mischievously. “We’ll make edibles next weekend. How does that sound?”

Frankie stared up at you with those big cow eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. “I’m gonna marry you. Whenever you’re ready, Imma ask you to marry me. You’re the bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I gotta make you my wife before someone else steals you away.”

Words a bit slurred from the pain medication flowing through his veins, you gazed at him with such love in your soul. “I love you so much, you stupid, brave man, but I think you’re letting the pain meds do the talking for you.”

“Hey now! I’m injured. I got shot making sure you got to safety, you can’t call me stupid.” He pouted like a child, looking impossibly adorable with his wild curls like a halo around his head. “And it’s not the pain meds talkin’. I’ve always wanted to marry you, right from the moment you smiled at me.”

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you shushed him. Your gaze met Santi’s in the rearview mirror, his face lit up with amusement at the two of you. Shifting your gaze back to Frankie’s, you flashed him that smile that first charmed him. “Ok, chulo. I want to marry you, too. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Hey, Pope! Mind stoppin’ by a jewelry store on the way home?” Frankie asked sleepily, eyes already slipping closed. “I gotta get my girl a ring.”

fin