#bucket list item checked off

[patchdotexe]

HOLY SHIT I JUST GOT GIVEN A NEW BEAST TO TREASURE FOREVER

[alltheprettyplaces]

brb gonna cry forever

[moon-jellie]

Unfortunately my feminine wiles have girlbossed me too close to the sun! But on the plus side DAMN was it hot when I got there

[jennacrtega]

this is the coolest thing I have ever experienced in my life like no fucking kidding I will never shut up about it

[heechwe]

enchanted ↦ jww

⋆ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 6.1k ⋆ genre: fluff. semi-angst ⋆ tags: cinderella-ish retelling, royalty!wonwoo ⋆ synopsis: Life as the housemaid and an inconvenience to your family is not what you wished for, but Wonwoo brings a new, royal perspective that turns your world around.

Scrub, wipe, shine. The chant plays over in your head, a symphony to block out the call of your horrendous stepsister trotting down the staircase. She says your name with a shriek but you pay her no mind. More than likely she has another errand for you to do. One she will take pleasure in you finding uncomfortable, no doubt. The color of the suds and sloshing sounds of the water bring you comfort. You dip your rag in the bucket next to you and plop it on the tile floor. Taking pleasure in the most menial tasks makes life a lot more bearable.

Heejin calls your name again when she makes it to the last step, knowing well enough you can hear her when she’s standing over you. “Are you deaf? We need new clothes from the market!”

You look up to her, a confused but indifferent expression on your face. You don’t bother asking what the clothes are for, but you know she’ll tell you regardless.

“For the ball, you imbecile,” Heejin says.

Minha, the younger of the stepsisters, pipes up behind Heejin, her voice a squeak compared to her older counterpart. “It’s the prince’s coronation.”

You nod and continue scrubbing the tile. If the task at hand isn’t done before your stepmother gets home, she will have your head on one of the pikes lining the kingdom’s outer walls.

“Finish this and then head to the seamstress. The fabric must be on my bed by sundown, or Mother will not be pleased,” Heejin says, a warning interwoven with the smirk on her lips.

Heejin purposefully kicks your bucket of soapy water across the floor on her way to the sitting room. The liquid drenches your apron and face thoroughly. You wish you could sling an insult at her for her entitlement along with her lack of care for anyone’s wellbeing but her own. Minha’s face transforms into a small frown, her eyes expressing sympathy as she follows her sister’s trail.

Since your father took gravely ill five summers ago, you have yet to receive an ounce of kindness from your newfound family. “Family” is barely a word you’d use to describe the relationship between yourself and them, the wolves who invaded your home on the eve of your fourteenth birthday, just a year after your mother’s passing.

Minha is the kindest of them all for her inaction during your stepmother and Heejin’s abuse, but you wish you had a confidant somewhere in the world. 

You rifle with the letters you saved from your father and mother, the inscriptions inside of them the last memory you have of them both. Some written to each other, others simply their musings and thoughts you wish you would have discussed with them before they left this earth.

If only someone knew you truly, who cared to hear your words and valued their meaning. Who saw life as a gift rather than a tool used to induce a person’s misery. If dreams could become reality, you would not be alone another day.

Wonwoo mentally checked off the items in his head that the king and company expected to be done for the coronation ball. The town baker was provided with the list of desserts and bread necessary for the feast. The lute and harp players were given an excellent amount of coin for taking part with their instruments. Even the meat and dairy from the kingdom’s best butcher was safely stored in the horse-drawn carriage behind Wonwoo’s own stallion. The final task in need of completion was a trip to the seamstress. In the words of the king, “it’s not every day my boy finds a bride.”

On arrival, Wonwoo was enraptured with color. He absorbed the rolls of fabric and material encased on the shelves, the finest satin and puffiest tulle displayed for ladies and gentlemen to spare no expense on for the upcoming celebrations. He gave the specifications to the shopboy almost an hour ago, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind spending a bit longer outside of the castle walls.

The bell above the door pierces the air with its chime, and Wonwoo looks up to see the most encapsulating view in existence. Would someone disbelieve him if he said that view included a girl with cheeks caked in soot, her hair pulled back underneath a common scarf, and her clothes as drab as a servant girl’s? Probably. But the sunshine on your face and twinkling eyes suggests to him that he should continue looking for as long as he can.

The seamstress and owner of the shop comes from behind the store, a sketching pencil tucked atop her ear and a vibrant smile on her lips as she says your name, the letters together a lovely orchestra. “Here for the usual order?”

“No. Heejin needs something spectacular for the ball. Her words, not mine.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, and the seamstress laughs.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just wait a moment.” In a flash, the seamstress walks back to her private area of the shop, and Wonwoo is left alone again with you, the mysterious but mesmerizing girl. A maid perhaps, given the nature of your visit?

All he knows is that he must talk to you, whether you recognize him or not.

You lightly tap your hands against the wooden counter, waiting for Miss Jae to come back with a fabric to take home. Hopefully one that Heejin loves enough to keep. That way you don’t have to come back on foot a second time today.

“Blue is best.”

You turn with a gasp. The man attached to the voice is adorned in royal clothing, golden cufflinks and buttons matching the royal purple material of his clothes.

 “Sorry,” you stutter, hands suddenly clammy.

“Your color.” He slides over to a roll of sky blue satin, placing a patch of it over his arm. “It looks terrible on me, but on you, I believe you would outshine any commoner.” He lets out a breathless chuckle and intakes a deep gulp of air.

It has been so long since another person wanted to engage with you, especially someone as handsome as the person before you. He may be as nervous as you, given his awkward introduction, but you know your conversational skills are worse for what. You aren’t sure how to converse anymore about topics outside of dinner orders and cleaning supplies.

“Thank you, but I won’t be attending the upcoming festivities.” You try to hide the sadness that threatens to break free on your face, but you’re too late. The stranger sees it and responds in kind.

“Everyone is welcome to the coronation,” he assures you.

“I’m afraid ‘everyone’ does not involve me…Your—” You stop short, unsure of his title as you don’t know his name or his face from recent memory.

“Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo.” Wonwoo breaks into a smile. You’re unsure whether you like his laugh or his smile more, but both seem to make your cheeks heat up all the same. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, and you give yours back, curtsying in response.

You tell him your name as well, a blush on full display. “As I said, Wonwoo, I usually stay in. Not in my nature to court or be courted.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure your company is surely missed.” His hand is still caressing yours, thumb rubbing up and down your palm softly.

A shopboy suddenly comes into view. You both separate quickly, the intimate bubble bursting at the intrusion. The boy stuffs the garments in Wonwoo’s hands and bows swiftly before going back to his duties.

“You must be hard to miss as well, Wonwoo.”

“Well, you could say that.” You both hear a horse neigh outside the shop doors, and Wonwoo barely fights the urge to stay with you. “Until the next time.” He says his goodbye and your name with determination. If only you could assure him there will be a future where you cross paths again, but that hope may be squashed as quickly as it was born. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to hold onto it, though.

“Not terrible,” Heejin says when you come home, running her hand over the material Miss Jae gave to you. “If Mother needs more yards of it, you’ll have to go back immediately before they run out.”

“Of course, sister,” you say. You hate to use that word for someone as vile as Heejin, but Stepmother Jung enforced the rule as strictly as the list of chores you were to complete before the sun set every day. “We must always be a family in the eyes of society,” Stepmother Jung told you once after your father passed. “Even if you will never be a part of this one, you have to play your role.” If only that role extended to social gatherings.

Minha looks over Heejin’s shoulder and smiles. “It’s a beautiful pattern.”

“That’s why it’s for me. Mother will give you one of my old gowns to wear,” Heejin tuts and pats Minha under the chin with her free palm. You know Heejin spares her worst behavior for you, but in your eyes, Heejin doesn’t deserve the title of sister in any form. Just as your stepmother has no business being a mother to anyone.

“You’re dismissed,” Heejin says to you, the hand that was under Minha’s face used to wave you off.

“Sister, if I may.” She grimaces at you, but a curious spark remains in her eyes. You think back to Wonwoo, plucking up every ounce of your confidence. “I was wondering if you may consider letting me attend as well. Stepmother may not let me go of her own volition, but if you told her you approved then maybe-”

“And why would I do that,” Heejin says. She knows exactly what you want, and the only way for her to entertain the idea is if you grovel.

“Because I have never asked anything of you before.”

“As you should.” Your stepmother’s figure and shadow encompass the entirety of Heejin’s bedroom doorway. You immediately lower your head; it’s one of the humiliating rules you have to obey in the wake of becoming the family servant. You hear Heejin snicker, but it’s cut off immediately by Stepmother Jung clearing her throat. “Your purpose in this household is to do what is asked of you without complaint or question, not the other way around. Asking for anything else is an insult to me and my daughters.”

You feel tears prick the back of your throat, but you hold onto your resolve with a steadfast grip. “Stepmother, I am begging you—”

“I do not know what is worse, girls,” Stepmother Jung says, addressing Heejin and Minha, “hearing someone beg for something that will never come true or seeing someone forget their place in this world.”

Your bottom lip quivers without your approval. You can only hope none of the other people in the room are paying attention to your despair. Heartbreakingly, it appears they don’t.

“Now, Heejin, we need to measure you again for your dress. I swear you grow an inch every time you require a fitting, dear girl. Minha, I know exactly which of Heejin’s dresses will look perfect on you.” She motions for you to look her in the eye, and you force the tears to evaporate. “As for you, you have chickens to feed.”

“Seungcheol, I told you already, the conversation is over.”

“That’s Prince Seungcheol to you, kid.” Seungcheol juts Wonwoo in the arm. The practice swords whip through the air as the birds sing throughout the courtyard. “And who’s to say a royal summons would embarrass her? Everyone is to attend the ball. Maid, mare, or otherwise.”

“She seemed certain she was not supposed to be there. I don’t want her to feel forced to do anything.” Wonwoo huffs as he lands a blow on Seungcheol’s hip.

“What good is it to be royalty if I cannot help a dear friend and the future Hand of the King find love?”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol grew up together due to their fathers’ stations, one bearing the crown and the other gaining the responsibility of advising him. Although Wonwoo had no place without Seungcheol’s family, they had become close in their own right. Once Seungcheol ascended his throne, Wonwoo knew he was to be standing beside him with the title his father had worn for most of his life. 

With that in mind, it seemed both Wonwoo and Seungcheol were on respective quests to find a bride to continue the long-held, individual legacies they were born into.

“All you have to do is smile and dance with every eligible woman in the next three kingdoms while I hope my mystery girl decides to step out of the shadows, unprompted and entirely by her choice.” 

Seungcheol scoffs, sweat on his brow from trying to find an open spot on Wonwoo to exploit. “You place high priority on a stranger’s independence and choice-making.”

Wonwoo blushes. His thoughts go back to the fabrics, the jasmine smell in the air, you walking into his life and halting his day in the best way possible. He wishes he had said more, learnt more about you, held your hand longer before he was whisked away back to his priorities. Now he could only hope you would find your way back to him, whether by fate or of your own free will.

With his thoughts occupied, Seungcheol takes the opportunity to knock Wonwoo in the shoulder. Seungcheol smiles triumphantly, biting his lip. “Finally, for fuck’s sake.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You won’t beat me again, Choi.”

“Wanna bet?” Seungcheol jokes.

Wonwoo immediately thwacks Seungcheol’s sword out of his hand in response. The tip of Wonwoo’s meets the column of the prince’s throat, and he grins. “You should train more if you want to be half as good as me.”

Dust, sweep, clean. You repeat the list in your head with traces of melancholy in your heart. You weren’t expecting to be allowed to go to the ball without a fight, but Stepmother Jung was right. What was the point in fighting if you had no standing at all to barter with?

Minha calls your name, her appearance in the kitchen is like magic. You must’ve been too lost in your morose thoughts to notice her walk in. Or she seems to know how to sneak around the manor better than you do.

Her arms rest behind her back, concealing something. “I’m sorry,” she says immediately, surprising you.

“I cannot blame you for Heejin or your mother.” A part of you wishes you could be more cruel, but you’re certain you have little to no capacity to be, even to your worst enemy. “You have done nothing to require an apology.” 

“I have. You deserve to go to the ball as much as any of us do.” She looks over her shoulder for someone, or a lack thereof. Satisfied, she throws a lump of fabric on the kitchen island. You notice the bandages on Minha’s fingers with a quick glance before focusing on the dress. The turquoise material sparkles in the light of the stained glass windows. “So you will.”

“Minha, I can’t-” You feel the same tears coating the back of your throat again, grateful to her but incapable of accepting the gesture.

“You can. You were right when you said you’ve never asked for anything before. So don’t ask. Take the chance, and the dress, and go to the ball.”

With that, Minha disappears quietly from the room, leaving the decision in the air for you to either seize or surrender.

The main ballroom is filled with swathes of dancing couples alongside gossiping nobility and local townspeople. To a stranger walking in, it was a display of royal decadence, the party lit from within with the sounds of joyous laughter, heavenly harps, and gorgeous decor. To Wonwoo, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

 Seungcheol and his parents sit in their royal chairs, the gleaming gold of the upholstery almost too polished for Wonwoo’s eyes. The young men share knowing glances when someone particularly obnoxious makes an entrance or wishes to greet the royal family. Wonwoo wishes he could joke with his best friend openly about the noble women’s copious frills and curly mops, but now is not the time or place.

Wonwoo’s father leaves the king’s side to pat his son on the back. “You did well with your part in this, Woo. Maybe you’ll be rewarded with finding someone to wed as well. Wouldn’t that be luck smiling on us all,” he says with a loving grin.

“I doubt that someone will show up.” Wonwoo frowns.

“Have faith, my boy.”

Like luck was indeed shining on him, Wonwoo looks up and sees you at the top of the stairs, horns blazing to signify your arrival. Even in a mask, he can tell it’s you from the skipping of his heart. With your hair in a loose bun, tendrils framing your face with precision, you look nothing like the girl he met in the dress shop yet the exact same. He wonders how the color blue had the capacity to take his breath away. It doesn’t help how the dress’s bodice hugs you perfectly, the bottom of the gown a cloud that Wonwoo wishes he could rest his head upon forever.

You fidget with the tops of your gloves that brush the neckline of your dress, the sleeves dropping loosely on your shoulders. Wonwoo wants to rush up the stairs to assure you there is no need to be nervous.You’re the most beautiful woman in this kingdom, tonight and always.

When you reach the bottom, everyone is looking at you, the mysterious stranger that nobody can recall or pinpoint. You hear murmurs as you pass, some predicting you’re a long lost relative of the prince or whispering of you being a foreign beauty. You laugh to yourself at their capacity to chat and how far they are from the truth.

You catch Minha’s eye from her corner of the room, Heejin and your stepmother sneering at you. Minha smiles, a silent cheer in her expression, and you respond with a mirrored grin.

You make it to the center of the room, the pathway cleared for you thanks to the shock and awe of the crowd. To your content, Wonwoo meets you halfway. A hush falls over the spectators when he meets you on the dance-floor, but you don’t care about their perceptions.

Wonwoo says your name and bows. You curtsy in response. Despite feeling out of place for half of your life, it seems instinctual now to be in this room. Not with the strangers surrounding you, but definitely with him. “My prince.” 

A look of shock over Wonwoo’s face, and he immediately laughs. “No, I-I— I should have told you before. I’m not—“

You place a hand to your mouth, the realization a flood. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“I didn’t tell you before, so I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“I did say I don’t attend many social gatherings.”

You both share a laugh, the confusion dissipating your embarrassment at your slipup. You notice a well-dressed young man that steals all the glances in the room away from you, the man you now know is the prince himself. He strides over to Minha, her expression a pale sheet. He takes her hand for the next song, which she gleefully accepts.

Wonwoo pulls your attention back to him with the taking of your hand in his. “May I ask you to dance?”

“I would be delighted.”

You sit on one of the many balconies in the royal castle, breathless. Your feet should hurt more than they do with the multitude of waltzes you danced with Wonwoo, but they don’t. You wouldn’t mind if every limb ached, though. With Wonwoo beside you, breathless as well from the night’s excursions, you feel light as air. Free from the obligations you never asked for.

If only you knew Wonwoo felt the same way. He could not remember the last time he smiled this much in one day. Seungcheol was his best friend, his father the biggest influence in his life, and yet both of them reminded him daily of what the future entailed. With you, he didn’t feel anything but ease. 

“What if they send a kingsguard looking for us?” Your mouth is upturned in a smile, but you know Wonwoo shouldn’t be gone too long from the events. He was of some royal standing, and he needed to be there, shaking hands and bowing to subjects.

Wonwoo furrows his brows, his smile mirroring yours. “Seungcheol is the one who needs the most protection tonight. And besides, it would take ten of the best men to pull me from this balcony.” He chuckles. “Right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

You nod and sigh happily. Looking over the edge of the marble landing, you agree with him. The town square is visible from your vantage point, the torches and homes, big and small, specks of light celebrating the coronation. “It is a beautiful view.”

“Is it indeed,” Wonwoo says, his eyes pinned to you and the bare skin of your upper chest. Your skin looks lit from within, your entire being a star amongst a sea of darkness. It’s at this moment Wonwoo knows his father was right. Luck has given him the greatest gift and more, and he won’t let you get away again.

You turn your head. His words make your breath hitch, but you try to reserve yourself. You smile in response and take his hands in yours. Your bodies are closer than you initially realized, and the look in his eyes begs you to move further towards him. 

All your life, you have lived at the whims of others. As you see it, there’s nothing wrong with taking your power back. Choosing at this moment to throw other parts of your life out of focus. Wonwoo is all you want, so you take your chance.

His mouth softly collides with yours, his lips careful to press too hard onto yours. He presses one hand to your neck, deepening his kiss and igniting a fire inside your heart. Every insult or slight you’ve endured over the years seems to fade away in that instant. You’re grateful, even, if it meant it all led to the moment in front of you, a man who seems to share your feelings confirming so with a kiss you’ve never experienced before.

You break away from him, each others’ lips still centimeters away. Wonwoo inhales a shaky breath, eyes hazy with longing. The desire to kiss him again and hold him closer is strong, but timing proves the night can’t last forever.

Your stepmother’s carriage suddenly comes to the front of the palace, and you feel your stomach fall.

You quickly step back from Wonwoo and take a breath, nerves spiking and your heart telling you to defy your head at this moment. It would be so easy to stay here and not look back, but the fallout would be too incredible to bear. And you wouldn’t wish that on this beautiful man in front of you.

“I must go,” you say, a sob caught in your throat.

“Please don’t leave. It’s only midnight,” Wonwoo insists, squeezing your hand. In the same fashion as the day you first met, he’s rubbing circles into your palm, almost like an incantation. With his words and his touch, maybe he can convince you.

Unfortunately, your choices can’t be that easily swayed when so much is on the line.

“I told you before Wonwoo. My life isn’t filled with parties like this,” you reply, tone wavering, “or people like you.” You take his hand in both of yours and press a kiss to the knuckles. “But I’ll cherish this forever.”

Before the pleading look on his face breaks your resolve, you gather your skirts in your hand and run.

You run down the staircase Wonwoo brought you up only moments before.  He calls out your name,  but you refuse to look back now, knowing it will break you to look into his eyes and walk away again if need be. You feel yourself fading the further you run away from him and out of his life.

It’s true, you’ll never forget him or the way he’s made you feel. But it’s also true that it is terrible to forget one’s role in the world. How does one witness all the colors of the world and accept going back to living in black and white?

Little did you know the paper you carried in your skirt's pocket had fallen out on the way out of the palace. Wonwoo looks through the forest lining the castle and curses, you disappearing successfully in the darkness. 

Before he can walk back into the ballroom, he notices the aged paper on the brick steps of the stairs. He unfurls it and reads the handwritten text. He exhales with relief, feeling in his gut he has found the key to finding you again.

No matter where he has to look, whether it’s beside a babbling brook or the highest castle on the far side of the ocean, he promises himself the next time he sees you he will make sure you stay by his side forever.

You feel the sticks and twigs scrape your arms and legs as you run into the forest, the fabric of your dress in ribbons by the time you make it home. Thankfully, you don’t see the coach or footmen anywhere in the distance.

Once you’re inside, you discard the clothes and makeup into the cellar’s hearth. Each item burns slowly, reminding you with every new cinder of your harsh welcome back to the reality you’re familiar with.  The smock you quickly tied around your waist and the soot you smeared across your face to avoid suspicion. The calluses on your palms from the endless, menial work. Your pliable acceptance of cruelty.

It’s all you’ve known, but it feels foreign at the same time. You don’t want to go back to your routine now that you’ve had a taste of what life could be.

Your stepmother and stepsisters waltz into the foyer. Minha looks starry-eyed and love-swept, all of which relate back to her dallying with the prince.

“I can’t believe he danced with me but was looking at you the entire time,” Heejin sneers at Minha, removing her gloves with tense fingers.

You smile to yourself, happy Heejin was knocked down from her high horse and the tides turned in Minha’s favor.

“The good thing is that the prince showed one of you attention, my love.” Your stepmother splays her fur coat out on the loveseat, your cue to immediately scoop it up to carry to the coat closet.

“Tomorrow you need to clean inside the cupboards. I noticed they were a tad dusty,” Heejin says before you can walk out of the room. Your heart was heavy before, but now it’s numbed and frozen to the habitual torture.

"Of course, sister."

Wonwoo rubs his fingers over the page’s text as his father interrogates the young girl in front of them. Seungcheol sits back in his throne beside the king’s chair, curious if this is the girl his best friend whisked away four nights prior.

Wonwoo’s father plucks the writing from Wonwoo’s hand and gives it to the knight. The knight hands it to the girl, her face doe-eyed and timid. “Is this writing familiar to you in any way?”

She looks down to the floor and shakes her head. “No, Lord Hand.”

She didn’t look familiar at all to Wonwoo, just like the last dozen women who came before his father and the prince.

Seungcheol’s idea to find Wonwoo’s mystery girl by interrogating every noble and common girl in the kingdom sounded stupid the second Wonwoo heard it. But with the king’s approval and the hand’s enthusiasm to find his child a bride, the plan was enacted.

Now, in paper and practice, Wonwoo feels more defeated the longer they continue. The only thing that gives him solace is the paper he found, his only connection to you keeping him grounded.

The girl bows for Wonwoo and the royal figures in front of her before being escorted away from the great hall. Wonwoo’s father hands the paper back to his son and sighs.

“I feel we are much closer,” his father says to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo laughs sadly. “It seems you’re the only one who feels that way.”

Seungcheol stands from his chair and pats his friend on the back, his version of a hug. “Closer or further, we’ll do whatever we must,” Seungcheol says to Wonwoo’s father.

Wonwoo’s father exits, a handful of knights marching behind him.

Seungcheol puts a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He looks at his best friend with sincerity, a vulnerability he rarely shared with anyone. “You cannot lose hope now.”

Wonwoo nods. “That’s not what I’m afraid of losing. The longer this search continues, the more I feel our chance slipping away.”

Wonwoo traces the familiar pattern of the words with his thumb, the lost paper the one thing holding him steady.

You rifle through the documents you’ve held onto over the years, fear triggering the tremble in your hands. You had brought the dress home from the ball and immediately threw it in the fire. If you had accidentally discarded one of your father’s most precious letters along with the items you burned that night, you’d never forgive yourself.

You hear a horse-drawn carriage outside of the manor and the shrill wail of Heejin calling your name. It stamps down your anxiety enough for you to focus on following the sound.

Walking into the room, you see your stepmother lacing up Heejin’s corset while Heejin is putting a dab of rouge on both cheeks. “The royal carriages are outside!”

You gulp and nod at your sister, unsure what she wants from you.

She exhales with an angry breath and motions for you to go upstairs. “Get my shoes, you idiot!”

Minha stands at the top of the stairs and looks at you sadly. “I could’ve gotten them for you if you just asked, Hee.”

“Like you could do any better,” Heejin remarks. Her voice becomes airy when your stepmother reaches the final inch of tightening on Heejin’s corset. You run up the stairs to quickly follow your orders.

You squeeze Minha’s hand as you pass her to walk towards Heejin’s room. When you find the slippers and place them on your stepsister’s feet, someone knocks on the door forcefully.

Minha and Heejin stand in the center of the room as your stepmother walks up to the front door. You run back down to the cellar. 

Typically you would answer the door for company, but you knew your stepmother wouldn’t want the royalty welcomed by the unbecoming help.

Regardless, your heart thumps furiously at the sound of the stranger at the door delivering his greeting. And you can only wonder what will occur because of his presence.

Wonwoo waits in the carriage as the knight addresses the lady of the house. Wonwoo vaguely remembers his name and feels guilty for not keeping it to memory. Mingyu, was it not?

The lady of the house, her mouth a permanent grimace, nods and opens the door wide for the company to come inside. Wonwoo’s father steps out and Wonwoo follows behind him. Seungcheol exits his own carriage as well.

They all enter the manor, and Heejin can’t help her squeal at the prince’s presence in their home. Wonwoo stifles an eye-roll, keeping his mind focused on business.

As soon as Seungcheol locks eyes with Minha, he smiles. “My lady,” Seungcheol says, striding over to her to bend down and kiss her hand. Minha’s cheeks turn a deep scarlet, but she bows accordingly and smiles.

“‘My p-prince,” Minha stutters.

Heejin sneers at her younger sister, but the prince is too enamored with the young woman in front of him to pay any attention to her.

Wonwoo’s father coughs, redirecting everyone’s attention to him. “Madam Jung, our records indicate there are four residents in this manor. So, to be correct, outside of the three of you here now—”

Madam Jung giggles uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Lord Hand, I have not been to the registrar in some time. Those records must be outdated.”

“So, the third child referenced in these documents-”

 “Took ill some time ago. Again, an oversight caused by immense grief, I assure you.” The words leave her mouth instinctually. Wonwoo feels the confidence in her words and how false it is. From the conduct of her oldest daughter, he’s not surprised lies and negativity are commonplace in the household.

A rumble from the below startles both the women and Wonwoo’s father. The knights instinctively grab the hilts of their swords, but to no danger, a girl covered in ashes from the hearth saunters into the center of the foyer, tears streaming down her face and fists clenched.

In that second, Wonwoo feels he could cry as well.

He wants to run over to you and kiss the tears from your face, squeeze you tight, and get down on his knee in front of everyone in the room. The weight of the ring box in his pocket reminds him of what he has wanted to do since you left him alone that night. He inhales a deep breath, both elated and terrified at once, wondering what is going through your mind at the sight of him here.

I’ll never let you go again, he thinks with steadfast certainty.

Wonwoo comes back to reality when he realizes you’re stomping towards your stepmother. You have barely noticed anyone else’s presence in the room besides hers, and he’s sure you heard every word of her lies from the cellar. The pain on your face is a mixture of incredulity and anger. The emotions are knotted together in the expression on your dampened face.

“How dare you,” you whisper, lips quivering but voice solid as a stone.

“How dare I-” Your stepmother starts, but you raise a hand to her. She blanches. Surely she’s shocked to see this side of you rear its head.

“My whole life, the only act of kindness you’ve shown me is pretending I didn’t exist, in spite of my father’s love for both of us. And now, after everything, to wish me dead…” 

You muster what is left of your strength to continue. “I’m unsure what I did to deserve such hatred in this family, but all I’ve ever wanted was to belong. Was that worth me being punished for this long, mother?” The word tastes like venom on your tongue. It prickles the flesh on your arms to call her such a title, but spitting it back at her with vitriol makes a part of your anger subside.

“You w-will not speak to me like that in my own home, you l-little pest,” she stutters. To your satisfaction, her insults have no weight now.

“This house could be eaten by the hearth, for all it’s worth. It’s no home of mine anymore,” you say.

Done with her and your speech, you begin to walk away. You stop short at the audience in front of you, failing to recognize their presence before. You bow to the Hand and Prince Seungcheol, but you freeze instantly when you see Wonwoo barely ten feet away.

A burden lifts from your heart when your eyes meet. Suddenly, the two of you are in each others’ arms, the pain you felt prior a vague memory.

“I knew I would find you,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head. He cups your cheeks with his hands, some of the soot scraping off onto his fingers.

You smile wide. What could you say to encompass the feeling of seeing him again? No words would do the sensations justice.

Wonwoo continues before you can respond. “Like the stars you look to above.”

Hearing your father’s words on his lips makes your heart swell. Of course he had the letter. It had to be fate. It was meant to be lost and then found by the man you fell in love with so easily.

“Follow your faith home, and you shall find my love,” you finish, biting your lip to hold yourself back from weeping more.

Unable to stop himself, he presses his lips to yours. He steals the smile on your mouth for himself, his mouth turns into a grin through the kiss. Even when you separate, your foreheads remain touching. 

You had been led to believe, through years of darkness and cruelty, dreams couldn’t come true. And now, with a full heart, you realize love can make every dream come true if you believe.

[sarahmackattack]

In which I achieve a lifelong dream, of sitting on the seafloor with a bunch of giant Australian cuttlefish

This morning I checked a major bucket list item off the list: hanging out w/Giant Australian Cuttlefish. They're super focused on mating, and are shockingly chill about people hanging around. I'd heard this was true, but whew, it was wild to experience firsthand.

It's a rare thing for an animal to reliably be found at a certain place & certain time. So often "lifer" animals depend on luck to seen. With these cuttlefish, so far it's been like clockwork. Late May-August, go to Whyalla in winter, and there they are, resplendent and numerous.

Good news:they're reliable + stunning. Bad news: Whyalla is a friggen hike from Philly & the water is a bit chilly (58 degrees F today). If you want to swim with them, you better get a thick wetsuit on and maybe be a bit cold (I was honestly too excited to be cold).

Seeing mating behavior up close was so completely amazing. The males perform dominance displays where they roll black bars across their body directly at another male. It's mind-blowing to see in person. They generally do it with the half of their body facing the other male.

[t-u-r-n]

Finally. Bucket list item checked off.

[avydabby]

Three Doesn't Have To Be A Crowd

ethan landry x fem!reader x chad meeks-martin

words: 3.3k

summary: ethan and reader being caught encourages a new bucket list item being checked off

warnings: smut!, fmm!threesome, dirty talking, t!tplay, fingering, exhibition?, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), double penetration, overstimulation, a second of mxm, anal, handjob, squirting

MDNI!!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Studying with Ethan was quite useless when it came to Econ. He was a smart guy, but there was not a thing that he could comprehend in that class. That's why Ethan was lucky he had you in that class also. These two factors led to the two of you hanging out often, becoming more comfortable with each other, and more familiar with each other.

The familiarity between you two didn't just end as classmates and friends, but it led to a few more than a few hookups. No one knew of these hookups and you both wanted to keep it that way. It was just easier to not tell your friends.

However, keeping it from your friends also made it harder to hook up without being caught or having your friends question why you two disappeared randomly. That's why you and Ethan were so quick to skip Econ today, knowing that Chad would be out of Ethan's dorm.

It had been at least two weeks since you and Ethan had hooked up last, and you were feeling it. Maybe that's why both of your kisses were so sloppy and desperate. Ethan's mouth was working hard against yours as you both sat on his dorm bed. His hands were gripping your hips, pulling you closer and closer onto his lap.

Ethan lets out a low noise as you bite his bottom lip gently. His breath hitches as your fingers pull at his hair, sending tingles down his spine. You were both too enraptured in each other's mouths to notice the door knob into the dorm jiggle and open.

"What the fuck?" Chad's voice sends you and Ethan far apart from each other. Ethan flew so far that he fell off his bed and plopped onto the floor. Chad's eyes follow his roommate before trailing onto you. "What the fuck is this, and how desperate are you to go for Ethan?"

Ethan scoffs from the floor, "She actually made the first move, dick."

Chad's eyebrows raise as he looks to you for confirmation, which you nod to quickly.

While Chad and Ethan squabble about your hookups, you find yourself rubbing your thighs together to suppress your wetness. The two guys' argument trails off and you look at both of them expectantly. What you find is both Ethan and Chad staring at your thighs...which are bare. You forgot how you had eagerly discarded your pants in hopes of being put to work on top of Ethan.

"Were you guys going to fuck?" Chad asks, his finger pointed between the two of you. "I don't like this."

His confession threw you and Ethan for a loop. Ethan frowns, his brow raising at Chad's boldness. "Don't like what?"

Chad groans, rubbing a hand down his face, "I don't like how quickly you were ready to throw your virginity at her."

You giggle softly, bringing Chad's attention back to you. "That happened a long time ago, Chad."

"Oh my god, her voodoo seduction powers got you already? Jesus fuck," Chad groans out.

Ethan snorts and teases Chad, "Voodoo seduction powers? She's just hot, dude. You're just jealous, buddy."

Chad rolls his eyes at Ethan's accusation. Your eyes dart between the two of them, wondering how long this will last until you get what you want from Ethan.

You were getting impatient, "Okay, can we figure this out quickly? I would like to be fucked soon and I don't care how at this point."

Chad chokes on his own air and his eyes bulge. "Are you talking about a threesome?"

The room goes quiet.

You hadn't initially intended for this to become a threesome, but the way that Ethan's eyes fluttered as he thought about having a threesome helped you decide on it.

"I mean, it is on my bucket list," You shrug, looking between the two of them. Your tongue flicks out to wet your lips and you see both of their eyes dart their gaze to them. "And I don't hate the idea of being filled."

Chad's eyes widen, he looks at you with hungry eyes but a blank face. His roommate launches forward at you, his mouth attaching to your neck. A surprised moan escapes your mouth and your eyes connect to Chad's.

"Join us, Chad," you moan as Ethan sucks a sweet spot on your neck. His teeth scraped against the column of your throat. "Please..."

Your begging was all it took for Chad to move forward and kiss your lips as Ethan worked further down your neck. The two worked their lips on you, their hands following soon. Ethan's hands moved upwards to grope your chest above your shirt, squeezing and kneading the soft tissue.

"Such pretty tits," Ethan says softly, his lips kissing over your shirt. You arch your back so he has more space to do as he pleases. "God, I dream about your tits. Have you dreamt about this, Chad?"

Chad's hands wrap around your throat while he retreats from your mouth, "I've definitely thought about you more than a few times while jerking off. Had to get one off at Halloween with that fucking costume you wore."

You remember that night...it was actually the night that you and Ethan first hooked up. Your Halloween costume set Ethan off in a way that made him confess his sexual desires towards you. Who knew it would lead to this?

Ethan groans at Chad's comment, "I regret tearing that off you, baby. Wish you could wear it more."

Their hands continue to explore your body, gripping your body and smoothing across your skin. Your moans echo through the dorm room and encourage the boys to go further.

Ethan's hands pull at the bottom of your shirt until it's over your head. His eyes narrow in on your chest, Chad's doing the same. The former's hands attach to your boob and knead it carefully. It was as if he was waiting for it to explode.

"You should stop wearing shirts, baby," Chad groans, his lips going back to yours in a deep, lustful kiss. Ethan's mouth joins his mission with his hand at playing with your tits. "It would make the world a better place."

"But only we can touch," Ethan butts in before his teeth latch onto the fleshy part of your chest. Your back arches into his movements again, making Chad's mouth retreat from yours.

Chad moves his hand down your body, hovering over your hot core. He waits for a nod from you to place his fingertips against your clothed clit. Your body jolts from the contact and a desperate moan escapes your mouth. His fingers massage your clit in soft circles, giving you enough pleasure to almost cry.

Ethan unclasps your bra, taking away another layer hiding your intimate parts. His fingers roll one of your nipples tightly and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck.

The mixture of the two men stimulating you causes an orgasm to come embarrassingly quick. Your moans grow louder and your body jerks to their movements.

"You gonna cum, baby?" Ethan teases you, his fingers leaving your nipples. His fingers move your panties to the side and play with your hole. "Cum on my fingers. Show us how much you like it when we play with you."

Ethan's fingers penetrate your tight hole, pushing his fingers so deep that you can feel the single silver ring on his hand enter you. The amount of attention that Chad and Ethan are giving your cunt sends you over the edge. Your hands grasp Chad's wrist to stop his massage of your clit, but he doesn't stop.

"Chad, please!" You cry out, writhing from the stimulation. Ethan laughs at your overstimulation and quickens the pace at which he fingers you. "Fuck...Ethan, oh my god!"

If anyone were to listen to their door right now, they would be able to figure out pretty quickly what was going on. However, you weren't totally against the idea of it.

Chad's fingers leave your clit and move upwards towards your nipples. His one hand plays with your bud while his mouth tongues at the other.

Ethan watches your face contort with moans and pleasure as his fingers reach your G-spot. You hold his gaze over Chad's head and watch as his lust-filled eyes don't stray from yours as he moves his face to your cunt. His tongue darts out and flattens against your used clit.

Your hips jolt towards Ethan's face eagerly. He chuckles darkly at your reaction and continues to devour you all of you. His fingers continue working in and out of your cunt, pulling you to another orgasm that builds up.

"Eth, baby..." Your moan is loud as he hits a particularly deep part of you. Your hand reaches for his curly hair and tugs on some strands. "Baby, I'm gonna cum."

Your whines drive both men crazy.

"Cum on his fingers again, come on," Chad eggs you on, removing himself from your chest and reaching down to remove his own shirt. Your fingernails scratch against Ethan's scalp and your other hand moves to drag across Chad's obvious bulge.

You see the hunger in Ethan's eyes as he sucks on your clit, and he sees yours roll to the back of your head as he makes you orgasm for a second time. He whimpers loudly as you pull him off your cunt and up to your lips.

"Chad," you draw out, pulling from Ethan's lips. You look at the expectant man and reach for his hand. "Don't you deserve to taste me from Ethan's mouth?"

The two men hesitate until Chad makes the first move forward to meet Ethan's lips in a kiss. Ethan's tongue enters Chad's mouth and shares the taste of your cunt onto his friend's tongue. They pull apart and Chad leans to you for a kiss as well.

"You taste so good, ma," Chad groans out as he reaches down to unzip his jeans. He stands and drops them to the floor and removes his boxers. His cock springs out and slaps his stomach from how hard it is. "Wanna feel your lips on my cock."

You bit your lip and smiled at Chad with heavy eyes. Tucking your legs under you, your hand grasps Chad's girthy cock and you bring your tongue to lick up his cock to the tip. He shudders above you from the sensation and slides your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail.

From behind, Ethan grasps your tits in both hands. You can feel his erection pressing to your back. You let your free hand maneuver behind you to rub against Ethan's boner. He takes his hands off you and he works to remove his sweatpants and briefs. You hear Ethan spit into his hand and stroke himself before guiding your hand to his member.

Ethan's hands continue to manhandle your tits as you work his cock in your hand and Chad's cock in your mouth. The three of you are a mess of moans, groans, and grunts as you bring the two to the brink of cumming all over you.

You can feel Ethan's hot breaths on your neck as he whispers the dirtiest things to you. "You just love all this attention, don't you, baby." "You gonna let Chad cum all over your face? Gonna let him paint you like I do?" "Should keep you busy like this more often."

Chad starts to groan from above you, and you can feel his dick pulsing in your mouth as your tongue works on his tip, flicking back and forth. His hands begin to pull your head further down onto his cock. He pulls you so far that you begin to gag on the girth taking up your airway.

Ethan gently pushes his friend's hips away from you and shakes his head, "Don't force that, man."

Your breathing is more of a pant with saliva dripping from your chin. Everything about you right now made you feel like a slut...but that wasn't exactly a bad thing in this matter.

You stop stroking Ethan and turn to face him. Your seductive gaze explores his face as you lay on your back and look up at the two of them. Your tits were on full display, and you slowly slide your ruined panties off your body.

You massage your own breasts as Chad and Ethan stroke themselves. A smirk graces your face as you instruct the two men, "Ethan, I want you to fuck me. Let me suck your cock some more, Chad."

"Condom or no condom?" Ethan asks, moving to reach for a box under his bed. You shake your head, "I'm clean, I know you're clean. Chad?"

"I'll wear one if I fuck you," Chad shrugs, bringing his cock closer to your mouth. "Now, tongue out baby. I'm not gonna last long."

You giggle at his words, "Last long enough to finish inside me."

Chad groans loudly and slides his cock into your mouth again. Your glossy eyes watch him and his hips move faster as he sees tears swell in your eyes.

Ethan uses the tip of his cock to spread your wetness around as lube for him to enter you. He places a hand on your bare hip to prepare you for him, and you tap on Chad's thigh to remove himself from your mouth.

You sit up partially to watch Ethan slide into you slowly, his long cock only halfway in when you feel like it can't go any further. Your mouth opens with an 'o' shape and you squeeze your eyes shut from the tightness of his cock inside your hole.

"Eth...Ethan, fuck," You gasp out, one hand gripping the back of Chad's thigh to anchor you. The man entering your pussy leans forward to capture your mouth in a searing kiss and then smirks as he quickly bottoms out in you. You scream at the quick feeling of being filled, "Oh my god! Uhn, Eth, so...so fucking big."

You can feel his cock twitch inside of you at your words as they stroke his ego. Chad watches the two of you intently, Ethan notices and inquires with his friend, "Come on, Chad. I'll flip her and you can take her from behind."

You nod your head, urging Chad to grab a condom and slip it on. Ethan peppers kisses over your body while you adjust to his length. He rolls you two over so he is on the bottom and you're on him from the top.

"Ride me for a little," Ethan instructs you. His hands hold your hips as he helps you bounce on his long cock. His eyes remain trained on your face as it changes with the pleasure you receive from riding him. Ethan softly whispers words of encouragement as you do your best to ride him better than ever before. "Doing so good, baby. Keep riding my cock. Yeah...just like that. Such a good girl."

His words only fuel your wetness and make your walls constrict around his cock. When you are oh so close to cumming, you feel Chad press on your lower back to lean forward. You whine softly at the loss of movement but do as he wishes. Ethan's cock is pulled out of your pussy so that Chad can use some of your wetness as lube for anal.

"Ok, ma, I'll go slow," Chad whispers, leaning to your ear. You feel his tip protrude into your even tighter hole and gasp as you feel him start to enter further in. "Come on, relax for me, ma."

Ethan's fingers trace along your bare back as he stares admiringly at your face. His brown eyes look emotionless but hold so much desire that you can't do anything but relax.

As his cock enters you further and further, you can hear Chad start to grunt at the feeling of your ass. His fingers dig harshly into the fleshy part and he slowly begins to thrust in and out of it.

The man on bottom guides his cock back into your pussy, and the two men slowly thrust in and out of you. None of you have felt a pleasure like this before. Everything was tight, hot, and wet.

"We aren't gonna last long, are we?" Chad strains out, his breathing coming out as pants.

Ethan chuckles airlessly and shakes his head. "I'm so fucking close."

Whines and soft cries emit your mouth as the feeling of two cocks fucking you hits. You're so full. Everything feels so much more sensitive and you have no idea if you'll be able to last a minute longer.

Ethan's lips kiss at your neck, and his fingers travel down to your clit. His wet lips trail to your ear as he whispers, "You're doing so fucking well, baby. Gonna make us cum so hard."

The mixture of it all Ethan's hands, cock, words, and Chad's cock -encourages your third orgasm of the night to hit you like a bullet train. Your scream of pleasure can definitely be heard by neighbors, but you can't even think of it being humiliating at this moment. Hell, you can't even think about anything other than the two men inside of you and Ethan's hand still working you through your orgasm.

Tears slide down your cheek as it all begins to feel like too much as the two continue fucking into your holes. Chad's cock slamming into you makes the sound of ass against his hips echo loudly, and Ethan's wet dick claps against your cunt.

"Come on, ma, just a little longer," Chad grunts out, slamming harder and harder into you. His thrusts become messy and soon still as he fills the condom with his cum. "Just like that."

Chad pulls out of you, but Ethan continues fucking your cunt. His thrusts are becoming faster, and his whimpers becoming louder. Ethan's thick fingers continue toying with your clit, even as you whine about how there's too much pressure.

"I want you to milk my cock, baby," Ethan's words were dominant, but his whiney voice made it sound more like a plea. "Not gonna stop until you're full of my fucking cum."

"Eth, it's so much-" Your words are cut off by a strong fluid coming from your cunt. Your squirt makes Ethan's eyes roll to the back of his head in ecstasy.

His thrusts become impossibly harder until you can feel his cum being spread against your walls. The mixture of his cum, your cum, and your squirt sits between the two of you. His thrusts come to a stop, and you can't do anything but slump against his chest.

Ethan's chest heaves with heavy breathing and his hands play with the strands of your hair. He presses sweet kisses against your forehead, and wipes smudged mascara from under your eye. "You did so good, sweetheart. So good."

A weak thank you slips from your mouth and Ethan chuckles. You can hear Chad come from the bathroom with what you're assuming is a towel. He wipes the sweat off your forehead and then helps ease you off of Ethan. The two men wipe the mixture of cum off of you and off of Ethan.

"You want some water?" Chad asks you, moving a strand of hair from your face. You nod softly and watch as the other boy goes to the hallway to fill up a water bottle.

Ethan pulls you back onto his chest and you snuggle closer to him. You two always laid together after fucking, it was a ritual at this point. His chest inflates with a heavy sigh before asking you quietly, "What did you think of your first threesome? Excited to cross it off that list of yours?"

You chuckle softly, almost dazingly. "It was good..."

"Just good?" Ethan asks, running his fingers up and down the side of your torso.

You nod, "Don't tell Chad, but I like one-on-one hookups a little more."

"Hate to break it to you," Ethan whispers back to you. "But this was me trying to share, and I didn't like it. Think we're gonna have to stick with each other."

"I can get behind that."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

first post on here! might as well make it spicy 💥💥💥

[buckevantommy]

alternate 8x06 where Buck doesn't race ahead:

They go to the movie. They share popcorn and hold hands and Buck watches a captivated Tommy more than the screen. He's thinking about date nights where they don't have to worry about two cars or parking. He's thinking about going to sleep next to Tommy and waking up beside him instead of one of them rushing back to their place for clothes or bc they have a shift soon. He's thinking about the drawer he gave Tommy turning into half a closet and all of Tommy's things in his space becoming their space..

..and then he remembers: Tommy has a garage with a carlift and engine parts and a muay thai setup. Tommy has furniture. Tommy has a yard and a garden and trees. Tommy has a house.

Buck turns his attention back to the movie. Now he's thinking about the illogical nature of asking Tommy to move into the loft: it's not fair to Tommy and also it's not the best idea. He doesn't know what the best idea is, yet, and maybe he won't know until he talks to Tommy.

Because that's where he went wrong in the past: moving in with girlfriends without actually talking about it first, it just sort of happened or was expected. and they all left him. He doesn't want Tommy to leave him. They've been together six months and haven't talked about the future. Buck is thinking about the future now so he needs to talk to Tommy - see where he's at and how he feels.

Back at the loft after the movie, in Buck's bed after sex, Tommy can sense Buck's restless mind. He checks in, because he always does, and Buck hesitates. Then asks: "Do you ever think about the future?"

And Tommy says sure, so Buck presses for details, curious, and then it's Tommy's turn to hesitate. But he mentions some stuff about work - flying certain crafts, heading up a training program, a few bucket list items, but all in all just keep doing a job he loves and keep renovating his little house or maybe there's a little holiday cabin that needs some work.

Nothing about Buck. Nothing about a partner or a family. Buck's heart does something funny in his chest, something uncomfortable, and his nerves kick in properly.

"What about you?" Tommy asks, and Buck swears he tenses under him.

"Captaincy, one day, I hope. I travelled a lot in my youth so I don't really have the bug for that anymore, but I was alone then. I think I'd wanna go places if I wasn't alone. And I don't wanna live here forever, obviously." He means the loft, but he's not closed off to the idea of living outside LA. And since he has no self preservation, he adds: "And.. you." He doesn't say mention getting married or being a father, because that feels like too much all at once.

His nerves are having a field day as Tommy remains quiet.

Buck leans up, terrified and desperate to see Tommy's face. "Do you.. see me in your future?"

They're naked and pressed together under the tangled sheets. Tommy's hand has stilled where it was tracing soothing patterns on Buck's arm. It isn't right. The air feels charged in a bad way, like waiting for lightning to strike.

"Evan.."

"I love you." He doesn't want to say it like this, not for the first time, but it suddenly feels urgent, like tommy has to know right now and maybe it'll change the way he just said his name - like an apology, like a regret.

"You don't love me. You love the idea of me."

And that- that's not true. And it hurts. And Tommy's face has fallen. "No, I-"

Tommy sits up, dislodging Buck, and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Wait- where are you going?" Tommy's gathering his things. He's getting dressed. Anxiety and dread swirl in the pit of Buck's stomach.

"I'm going home."

Home. It hurts to hear. "You don't have to leave-" Buck knows he's pleading, he doesn't care. He scrambles off the bed, tugging on his boxers as Tommy reaches for his shirt.

"I think it's for the best."

"No, it's not- we can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Buck stills. Tommy's holding his jacket, standing at the top of the stairs, trying to school his features to hide his emotions. He does that. He hides things. "What's happening right now?"

For a brief moment, tommy lets devastation show on his face, before it's tucked away behind a mask.

"I thought.." He doesn't know what he thought. He'd hoped Tommy felt the same, that they were on the same page. Six months in and he can already picture a life with Tommy.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry you thought this was more than what it was. Buck feels sick. His heart is stuttering. "Tommy-"

"Goodnight, Evan."

It feels like Goodbye, and Buck can't find the words to make Tommy stay before he's disappearing down the stairs and the loft door is closing behind him.

Sometimes lightning strikes the same place twice. Maybe it's connected to the string of bad luck that's followed him his whole life. Maybe he's jinxed, or cursed. Or maybe it's his own fault, his choices acting as a conductor for the kind of carnage most people only experience once.

[junrenjun]

I can’t remember if I’ve already asked you this but Can you do an alpha Vernon x omega reader set when they’re at the hotel getting woken up for their trip to Italy with NaPD? And the reason seungkwan had to go into Vernon’s room first before the camera was because reader was in there and reader is either post/pre heat and nesting and Vernon is all protective.

Wake Up Call

alpha!vernon x omega!reader

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mentions of sex/heats, reader gets called miss, mentions of pregnancy

“Nonie, ‘m warm” is all Vernon can hear from the way your head is buried in his chest. He runs his hands comfortingly up and down your back, brushing against the shirt he barely managed to put on you the night before.

“I know,” he mutters, pressing his lips into your forehead. It’s still a little warm, but your fever is definitely gone. “Your heat broke yesterday though, which means you only have a day of post-heat and then we’re done.” While helping his omega through heat in a foreign country in a hotel room wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, he figures he can check that one off now. 

You sigh contentedly into his chest. He shudders at the cool air against his bare skin. If he could wish for one thing, it would be to stay in this moment forever. Your soft breaths practically lull him back to sleep, but not before you move your head a bit, looking down at the nest beneath the both of you. 

Before Vernon can even say anything, you're pushing yourself away from his arms, sitting up straight with tears in your eyes. “The nest,” you mutter. “I need…I need…,” it comes out as a sob.

Vernon’s arms wrap around your waist pulling you back down, then cupping your cheeks to make you look him in the eyes. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong with your words, honey,” he tells you firmly. When you shake your head at him he sighs. “C’mon omega,” he whispers, wrist bumping along your still sensitive scent gland. 

You are nothing but a slave to your instincts, giving in almost immediately. “I need to fix the nest,” you sob. “We messed it up. I need to fix it.”

You’ve almost never been this upset over a nest after your heat has broken. It’s one thing to be weird about nesting during pre-heat, but during post-heat? Vernon is a little concerned. “Why do we need to fix it, omega?” he asks softly. “Your heat is over and we can make another when we get home.”

A pathetic whine leaves your throat. “For the pups, Vernon! You pupped me! My pups need a nest!”

Oh. Oh. Now Vernon is highly aware that you are both on forms of birth control. With him on suppressants and you on the pill, it’s highly unlikely that you are pregnant. He didn’t actually pup you. But with your muddled, post-heat brain, all you can think about is how your alpha bred you full. How your alpha knotted you, filled you with his pups. You don’t know any better. 

“Shhh,” he consoles you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you close. “Okay honey, we’ll take of the nest okay? I need you to relax though. Can you do that for me?”

You nod in his arms as best as you can, the tears finally beginning to slow. He reaches up to wipe them away. “Let’s get started, yeah? What are we moving?” he says gently, gesturing to the clothing items scattered on the bed. 

He waits for you to respond but you simply manhandle him further into the bed. You place a hand on his chest with a motion that he assumes means “stay.”

Vernon watches as you fuss over the nest, tossing some of the dirtier clothes onto the ground while pushing the clean ones closer to him in the center. His shirt hangs loosely on your form, exposing your bare shoulder. A small smile crosses his face. He can’t wait to put a mating bite in your neck. 

His little bubble of peace is soon interrupted by a harsh knock at the door. In the moment, Vernon is angry. Both the boys and the staff were well aware of the situation he was in and were under strict instruction to not intrude unless there was an absolute emergency. He doesn’t even realize that he’s letting out a low growl until you gasp, “Vernon!”

The interruption has clearly knocked you out of your post-heat headspace, your eyes looking a bit more lucid than they had before. He glances at you, before turning his head to where Seungkwan enters the room. There’s a grimace on his face and he’s trying his best to not open the door any further than it needs to be for him to get through. 

Within seconds, Vernon is protectively throwing himself in front of you. Which is funny considering Seungkwan himself is an omega. Still, the alpha instincts outweigh his normal train of thought, and he slightly bares his teeth at the boy.

Immediately, Seungkwan has his hands thrown up in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in it’s just…,” he says while looking hesitantly at the door. His voice drops into a whisper. “Na PD is here to take us to Italy. He’s been filming everyone as they wake up and he’s about to come in here.” 

“What?” both you and Vernon say at the same time, though your boyfriend’s tone is a bit harsher. 

There's a racket from outside and Seungkwan tries to speak again, but is quickly interrupted by the door swinging open. You push yourself even further behind Vernon, who now has an arm resting protectively on your leg. Your eyes peek out just slightly from behind his shoulder. Within seconds, there’s a camera pointed at both of you, Na PD himself right next to it. “Vernon-ah! Wake up!” the man shouts excitedly. 

Vernon doesn’t know quite when he started growling. All he knows is that his chest is rumbling loudly and his teeth are bared once again. Seungkwan cowers in the corner a bit. Na PD and his crew have looks of extreme surprise on their faces. They all scrunch their noses at the potent scent of heat sex that fills the room. Vernon’s hand squeezes even tighter around your leg. 

“Vernon! Quit that!” you exclaim in response to his outburst, slapping him on the shoulder. The growling quickly stops and he releases the hold he has on your leg. 

The camera is quickly pointed toward the ground and eventually turned off. Vernon relaxes a tiny bit once it’s done. Na PD is quick to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Vernon! We’ll delete the footage, I promise! We didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

Vernon is too agitated to care that much about the apology. There are multiple strangers standing within a few feet of his omega’s nest uninvited. His alpha is not pleased to say the least. “Don’t apologize to me,” he spits out harshly. “Apologize to my mate.”

With those words, you pop out a little bit more from behind him, reaching to pinch his ear. “Yah!” you exclaim, “don’t call me that until your mark is on my neck!”

He grimaces at the pain. Once your hand pulls away, he’s quick to reach up and rub at his ear, hoping to soothe it. “Ow! What the fuck, baby?” 

Na PD’s expression softens a little bit at your banter. “I’m sorry miss. We didn’t mean to walk in on you.”

Vernon feels you straighten up a bit, breath tickling against his neck. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “But um, you are intruding on my nest during my cycle, so could you just…” He turns his head slightly to see you point toward the door shyly.

Everyone must get the message loud and clear, because they begin to exit quickly. Seungkwan is the last out, and he throws Vernon an apologetic expression before slamming the door closed. 

You both let out a sigh of relief. Vernon takes a second to compose himself, before turning and tackling you down onto the bed. God, he wants his scent all over you right this second. He quickly buries his face into your neck, rubbing his cheeks against your gland harshly. You whine, the area still pulsing and sensitive from your heat. “Mine. My omega,” he whispers into your skin.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, fingertips running up and down his spine. “All yours.” His alpha roars in delight.

[merakiui]

a silly shoujo concept with jade where he picks up your notebook after you've left it in class. resourceful eel that he is, he flips through the pages out of curiosity. he's certain he'll just find your notes or doodles you've made out of boredom, but it never hurts to pry just a little. he won't tell a soul if he finds anything embarrassing. certainly not!

to his surprise, he finds a bucket list of sorts, which details all of the things you hope to accomplish by the end of your time at nrc. you're quite methodical about this list. there are academic goals. personal goals. social goals. you've checked some of them off: do well on this year's midterm. commit to an exercise routine. make more friends. etc. etc.

but then he happens upon the romantic goals. things like holding hands, kissing, cuddling, going on dates, sharing meals... he reads through every item on this specific list and finds himself blushing like a lovestruck maiden. it's not because of the nature of this list but, rather, the notes you've made in the margin: possible people to try this with: jade leech?

and his name is the only one you've written! :O is this...an indirect love confession? do you have feelings for him? is now a good time to hopefully try to kindle a deeper bond with you after he's spent so much time pining from the sidelines??????

tl;dr - jade wants to be the one to complete the goals on your romance list, but you're too prideful (and suspicious of him) to admit you'd ever think of him in such a light! that's too embarrassing! too much opportunity to be exploited. and jade's a bit of a shameless coward.

so he decides there's only one solution: he's going to try to court you. the mer way. the human way would be much too obvious, after all. ^^;;;;

[leveloneandup]

Bucket list items checked off ✅ ✅ Meet goats Christen Press and Tobin Heath

[osamiiya]

“But that one’s obvious”

Atsumu x reader

warnings // very suggestive! postcotial discussions. mention of alcohol

summary: Atsumu keeps a bucket list of things he would like to experience in his life.

notes: stares and blinks.

— — —

Atsumu is entirely ungraceful as he flops onto the bed next to you, skin damp with sweat as his chest heaves.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds in the room heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock in your kitchen.

When you realized your crush on the MSBY setter, you hadn’t anticipated his reciprocation, much less the admission that he’s liked you pretty much since you met.

The hookup had also been a spur of the moment thing, the two of you were together at a charity event MSBY was invited to, and you tagged along as his plus-one. The two of you spend the night laughing while sipping cups of water as Bokuto and Hinata made tipsy fools of themselves.

One surprisingly deep conversation later, you found yourself cupping his jaw affectionately and his eyes seemed to flutter shut as you leaned in.

It’s a blur of confessions and clothes and kissing before you find yourself staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving.

“Crossed that off the bucket list.” Atsumu huffs from next to you.

You turn your head to give him a confused look, hair mussing slightly.

“..What?” Your voice is slightly scratchy from your previous activities.

“Making a hot person scream my name in bed.” Atsumu sends a shit eating grin as he wipes at his forehead.

“You’re impossible.” You laugh, head shaking in disbelief.

Atsumu just grins as he goes to collect a rag from your bathroom to clean up with.

“Everyone has one.” He hums as he returns.

His hands are gentle as he cleans you up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as the rag brushes over the panes of your body.

“What’s on it?” You sigh out, relishing in the feeling of being taken care of.

He doesn’t respond as he pulls on his boxers, and finds something for you to wear before flopping next to you on the bed.

“What’s on what?” Atsumu grins, he’s clearly getting a kick out of this. He doesn’t tease further as he lists off some more… intimate, items on his bucket list.

“Are they all sexual?” You snort, pushing him away as he inches further to kiss at your neck.

“Why? Did you want to cross some more off tonight?” You can feel his teeth against your neck as he smiles, laughing slightly.

“Absolutely not, keep your hands off me.”

Atsumu whines dramatically as he places one last kiss on your neck before gathering you in his arms as best he can from his angle.

“I want to try skydiving.” He hums, “And going to the olympics.”

He’s surprisingly thoughtful as he lists off various items on his bucket list, along with a short explanation when you press him for more details. Atsumu’s hand finds yours to hold loosely, thumb drawing languid circles as the two of you just talk.

It’s comfortable, you’ve been friends longer than you’ve been dating. Considering the series of confessions that had only happened earlier that evening.

You can tell Atsumus nearing the end of his mental bucket list when he hesitates and looks you shyly in the face.

“And confessing to you, but I checked that one off.” He hums thoughtfully, he chews on his bottom list as he lists off one last one.

“And treating you well. Dating you for a long time, spending as much time as I can with you.” He smiles fondly, eyes softening.

“But that one’s obvious.” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

It’s as if the air in your lungs has been sucked out of your body as he speaks, and there’s no stopping the smile that creeps onto your lips.

“That one’s obvious.” You echo softly, eyes searching his.

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: Closer

cowritten with @astroboots

Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)

Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.

Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.

[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]

Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 

Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 

It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 

The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 

A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 

A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 

But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 

For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 

Always you.

You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.

And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 

Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 

And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 

The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 

He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.

“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.

You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.

Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  

He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 

Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 

Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.

Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 

He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.

Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 

"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 

Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 

"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."

Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 

Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 

Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.

Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.

Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"

You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.

It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 

Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.

As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 

He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.

When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.

It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 

Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 

"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 

Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you  need me to stop?" 

"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."

You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.

Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.

Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 

You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.

You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.

Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.

His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 

"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"

"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.

"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.

He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.

He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.

It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 

You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.

"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 

You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"

That's more like it. 

"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"

You nod into the pillow.

He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.

"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"

"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.

It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 

"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."

Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.

A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.

One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 

He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 

Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.

It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.

And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 

"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 

He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.

You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.

"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 

"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"

Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 

Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.

You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.

"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.

"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 

"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."

Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 

But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.

He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.

"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"

"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"

His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 

The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.

Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 

He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 

Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 

Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 

You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.

"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.

Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.

It's not enough.

He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 

Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 

He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.

Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–

"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 

His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.

He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 

Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.

The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.

He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 

Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.

All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 

You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 

"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"

"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."

That's all Jake needs to hear.

He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 

Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it

He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.

“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”

And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.

"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.

"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."

Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 

By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.

Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 

When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.

You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 

You’re beautiful.

You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 

The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.

“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.

You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.

Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.

Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 

You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 

He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.

Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.

In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 

It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .

Thanks for reading!

—

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[anxietyinkorporated]

THE ODY3 BUCKET LIST

Tristan:

- Kitesurfing

- World Record

- Dog/Home

- Marriage/Family

- Threesome ✅

Avery

- See the world ✅

- Doctorate

- Know herself

- Perform

- Threesome ✅

Max

- See the world ✅

- Fall in love

- Have kids/teach them self reliance

- Meaning in his life

- Have a ‘good’ threesome ✅

They really meant in when they said they would help eachother check off their bucket list items. And of course they had to start with the threesome 🤯

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hello! I hope you're doing well and I'd like to thank you for being the rad trans uncle of Tumblr. I'm in a fuckin' crimson state that's quite unfriendly to trans people and I'm afraid I won't be able to leave until 2028 at the earliest. Might I ask if there's anything you'd recommend doing? Anywho, I hope the leaves were great where you are! Peace!

It's been weird, but I'm glad to be here. :) As for recommendations, well, while you are not in a great place for trans rights, thinking ahead towards a move a few years down the road *is* good. Stuff you should be considering:

Get your finances in order.

Start with making a budget (I like the tool YNAB), tracking your habits, and looking for places to reduce spending. I know that can mean squeezing blood from a stone, but even saving up gas money for a cross-country trip can move up your moving timeline.

You also want to start planning your moving expenses. For example, buying boxes, using a moving service, cost to service your car, calming meds for your pets, etc. Just make a spreadsheet and keep adding as you think of things. Have a rolling total and track against your savings.

Lastly, get your credit score in order. A free service like Credit Karma is fine, but as you get closer to having to apply for rent or a mortgage, sign up with each credit agency and pull your report. Get caught up on any delinquencies asap and do not miss any payments from now until you are moved - missed payments take the longest of ANYTHING to fall off your score.

If you've changed your legal name, make sure it matches with all the credit bureaus. If you feel responsible with credit, ask for a credit line increase every 6 months - that will help with your debt ratio if you are currently trying to pay down a balance. Plan a credit score timeline with a hard stop at least 2 months before you apply for a loan/rent -- after that, no more making any big purchases or applying for new cards. Try to have no more of 10% of your total credit line actually on your cards by the end of your timeline. Aka, if your line of credit is $1,000, you only want $100 on the cards.

2. Start paring down your stuff

Gt crafty hobbies? Stop adding to your stash. Stop it. Start getting rid of broken things, clothes that don't fit, stuff you don't see yourself using, or stuff that is cheaper to sell & buy at your new place, rather than pay to move. If this all feels hard, put the items you're questioning in a box now, and then open it next year and see how you feel. Don't buy anything you wouldn't want to move.

3. Start your research

Make lists of towns that look promising. See how their local government works. Check the local reddits and facebook groups to get the vibes. Make lists of "must haves" and "nice to haves" at the state, city, neighborhood, and even house level. Get an idea for what the cost of living will be in your new place. Decide what your deal-breakers will be.

4. Work on your job skills

Four years is a lot of time to improve yourself for a good salary hike. It's a lot of time to get marketable for remote jobs, which will broaden your opportunities to live where you want. If remote work interests you, start looking at job listings and note the requirements. Make a plan to be qualified within 3 years.

5. Make a bucket list of things to do in your current state

There must be some good things about your state. There were in mine. Afford yourself grace and do some fun things that you might not have the chance to do again when you move. Hang out especially with local friends and family you care about.

6. Keep an eye on what's happening wrt trans rights.

Follow trans pundits and your local trans rights orgs. Get in the habit of learning what's going down in your municipality, down to the school board level. Be prepared to have to adjust your moving timeline if shit hits the fan.

7. Stay on top of your healthcare and legal stuff

No passport yet? Apply now. Forgetful about getting your HRT renewed? Set reminders and work hard to stay on top of everything. As you get closer to moving, research healthcare options in your new home and get appointments lined up asap.

8. If you're selling & buying a house, be prepared for it to take nearly a year

Seriously, it can take forever for everything to work out. Work with realtors in your new state who specialize in remote sales & relocations. Start repairing your current place by year 3 and start packing months in advance of the final move.

tldr; Treat the next 4 years like you're at college and your degree is Getting the Hell Outta Dodge. Plan as much as you can with to-do lists and spreadsheets, with some kind of monthly goal at first, then weekly and daily goals as your move approaches. It can feel overwhelming, but knowing *now* that you are going to move means you can plan as much as possible and reduce the amount of panic-decisions.

Good luck!