#happy+sugar=sand

[annefretz]

Serve Santa this luscious cocktail and you will be on his nice list!

[rainlight-oasis]

🕳️hey there sweetheart you lookin' for a sugar momma ;)

a mother made out of sugar would be quite sweet of you to offer, but i must decline. in the event that my hydro vision accidentally activates while expressing physical affection, your sugar would dissolve. i thank you for the offer once again, though!

[cherryredstars]

you know what season it is!!! back shots in a sundress with no panties!! i strongly request rich people private beach sex! boat sex! rich sugar daddy husband who is never really home but when he is he WRECKS your body!!

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara, Simon Riley, John Price x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, SugarDaddy!Characters, Simon isn't gentle in this one (sorry!)

A/N: My favorite season!!!!

Unedited

| SIMON "GHOST" RILEY: CAKE BY THE OCEAN

He can't help himself when his pretty baby is all dolled up for him.

You got that cute little sundress he bought you on, letting out little giggles every time the wind picks up and you have to hold your dress down like the better version of Marilyn Monroe. He doesn't understand why you do it though. You're the one who begged him to take leave so the two of you can spend the warm weather at the beach house, wanting to spend time on the private beach. Plus, if you really cared about decency, you wouldn't have left without panties. He thinks you're adorable, clueless to the fact that you've flashed him a handful of times already.

But maybe that's part of some secret plan you've been plotting. especially when you pout at him and demand he let you rub sunscreen all over his body.

I just don't want your scars to get irritated, Si.

He thinks your a fucking liar. How else would that explain the way you so willingly sprawl out on the beach blanket you've brought along, your bare ass exposed to him as your dress is bunched around your waist. In the sun, he can see your dripping cunt glistening with arousal. He fucking loves the pretty gasps you let out when the wind fans over your folds, a tiny plea for him to stop his teasing following after. His poor, spoiled baby, so desperate to have a different kind of fun at the beach.

He doesn't care for the beating sun burning his back as his thick cock slides through your puffy folds, more focused on the way your insides are a thousand times hotter. The only thing he needs coating his skin is your sticky arousal as it drips around his cock, a foamy ring of white forming at his base as he thrusts into you. He hates sand, but he doesn't mind the way it gets on the blanket as you pull on it, crying and hiccuping at him how it's too much.

"Si! It's too hot, I'm getting all gross and sweaty!" You sob out, teary eyes looking back at him.

He coos at your cries, giving your ass a hard smack before rubbing the pain away. You could have just told him you needed something to help you cool down. He's more than happy to help as he licks over your skin, his saliva coating your neck and shoulder blades. You taste like the sun and sweat, and he knows that after his he'll need to eat out that pretty pussy of yours to see how they add to your addictive taste.

He must have spoiled you too much, rolling his eyes as you start complaining about how sticky your skin feels with his spit drying on you. He shuts you up with a few punishing thrusts, only tolerating your incoherently wobbly moans and cries. He grits his teeth when he feels his high peaking, swiftly pulling out of you with a groan as he hot seed shoots onto your back. It darkens the fabric of your dress, pearly lines sitting on your sparkling skin.

Simon chuckles as you whine under him, his rough hands rubbing his cum over your skin in a thin layer.

"Gotta make sure your pretty skin is nice and coated, love."

His cum looks close enough to sunscreen, anyways.

| MIGUEL O'HARA: HANDS ON THE WHEEL

"Keep 'er steady, baby."

You only moan back in reply, your hands tightening around the wheel. Your hands are sweating from the sun's heat and from the heat radiating off of Miguel's body as he thrusts into you. The sound of your wet cunt is drowned out by the sound of the ocean, but Miguel is more concerned about the ocean of wetness that gushes around his cock. Your grip on the wheel has nothing on the vice grip your pulsating walls have on his cock.

His large hands reach up, his chest pressing against your sweaty back as his hands cover yours. He guides your hands slightly to keep the wheel straight, his thrusts not stopping. He's trying to teach you how to steer the boat through groans, and you only moan and whine in response as your mind gets consumed by the way his cock drills into you. Miguel curses when your grip on the wheel slips, your body falling forward as your orgasm crashes into you and the wheel spins quickly out of control.

His hand instinctively clasps around your neck to keep you from hitting your head on the wheel, making your back arch as he pulls you close to him as his other hand works to fix the wheel. His cock slips out of you, the ends of your fluttery dress pushing over his angry tip. He grunts as he thrusts his cock into your back, groaning as he spurts hot strings of pearly white dampen the back of your dress. You babble as you come down, feeling the wet parts of your dress starting to cling to your skin.

"Didn't I tell you that ya'gotta be careful while at the wheel, mi vida?"

Well, whose fault is that.

| JOHN PRICE: PRETTY HOUSEWIFE

This by far is his favorite part of coming home.

He loves getting home after a rough deployment, only to find his pretty little wife waiting dutifully at home for him. You treat it like a special occasion, making his favorite meals in that cute little apron and sundress that has his cock throbbing. You're so good to him. It's only right that he shows his appreciation with a good fucking.

He doesn't care if his hot plate of food is getting cold as he bullies his cock into your needy hole. You're so tight from not being filled with his cock for so long, your fingers not stretching you out the way his fat cock can. Your little moans and cries of his name are the only nourishment he needs at the moment. His pretty little wife takes him so well.

"Looks so gorgeous f'me like this, doll." John grunts at you, chuckling at the way your walls flutter around him.

This is by far the greatest way to be welcomed home, and of course he's gotta give you the first of many gifts he's got you while he was away. He groans low and deep as he shoots the build-up of cum that's been sitting painfully in his balls, watching as it gushes around his cock as your pussy gets stuffed full. You look so pretty sitting across from him in that sundress, trying to keep as much cum as possible in your snug cunt as he finally digs into his home-cooked meal.

No way in hell he'd let his seed go to waste.

[hoshifighting]

seungcheol as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, semi-public sex, elevator sex, fingering while driving (don't do it), office sex, hesitant cheol. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

it started with a laughable idea—a ceo and a sugar baby. who would’ve thought? but you saw something in seungcheol, beyond that stubborn pride of his, beyond the way his jaw clenched every time you handed over those thick stacks of cash. he hated it, you knew. it burned him inside to take your money, but he needed it, and more importantly, he wanted to succeed on his own.

“i don’t need you to do this, y/n,” he’d grumble, fingers brushing yours as you slid the envelope across the table. his voice was always a blend of annoyance and gratitude, as if saying thank you would taste like sand in his mouth.

“shut up and take it,” you’d say, rolling your eyes, hiding the way your heart picked up speed whenever his fingers lingered on yours just a little too long. “it’s an investment, remember? you’re gonna make it big, and then you’ll pay me back with interest.”

he never knew that you were already invested, not just in his company but in him. you’d been silently funding those little bursts of success he’d had—the ones he’d been so damn proud of. “i got another client today,” he’d say with that boyish grin, chest puffed out like he was on top of the world. it made you happy to see him so excited, even if the real reason for his sudden growth was because of you.

he wasn’t stupid, though. he’d show up at your place, dressed in clothes that you knew cost him a small fortune, and bring you gifts that screamed of desperation to impress. “i got you something,” he’d say, almost shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not. and of course, you’d always smile and take whatever it was—a designer bag, an expensive watch, anything to make him feel better about taking your money.

“you know you don’t have to do this, cheol,” you’d tell him, pulling him close, your fingers trailing down his chest. “i just need you.”

he’d laugh, shaking his head like you were talking nonsense. “can’t let you spoil me without giving something back,” he’d mutter, lips brushing against your neck, making you shiver.

the day he showed up with a fluffy white puppy, though, that was when you knew it had all gone to hell. you took one look at that tiny, trembling thing in his arms, and your heart fucking melted.

“you serious?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even as the puppy wiggled its way into your arms.

“you like it?” he asked, and there was something in his eyes, something soft and vulnerable that you hadn’t seen before. “thought you could use some company when i’m not around.”

you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, couldn’t stop the way your chest tightened with something warm and dangerous. “it’s perfect, cheol,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

that was it. you were gone. totally fucking in love with him. and the crazy part? he felt the same way.

“you know,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you, “this thing between us…it’s not just about the money anymore.”

“no shit,” you shot back, your tone teasing, but your heart was pounding. “you think i’m in this just to throw cash at you?”

he laughed, the sound rich and deep, and it made you weak. “nah, i know you better than that.”

seungcheol wasn’t just playing the part anymore; he really knew you. it showed in the way he’d show up at your office whenever you were in one of those moods—pissed off and ready to tear someone a new one. you’d barely have time to close your laptop before he’d be there, locking the door behind him with that smirk on his face.

“you know what you need?” he’d say, already undoing the buttons of your blouse as he walked over to your desk, that swagger in his step making your breath hitch.

“cheol, i’ve got work—” you’d start, but it was a weak protest, and you both knew it. the moment his hands were on you, all coherent thoughts went out the window. he’d push you against your glass table, cool surface pressing into your bare tits as he yanked up your skirt.

“let me handle this,” he’d whisper in your ear, and that was it. you were done for. his fingers would find your core, already slick and ready, and the way he’d fuck you right there, leaving imprints of your heated body on the cold glass, would make you forget why you were angry in the first place.

and of course, he’d clean up after. every trace of your reckless encounter wiped away like it never happened, leaving you to pull yourself together and face the world like the unshakeable ceo everyone believed you to be.

but it didn’t stop there. the way he took care of you was relentless, even when you were driving home. he’d slip his hand between your thighs, fingers finding their way under your skirt, teasing you, pushing you to the edge. the car would swerve slightly as he played with you, and he’d chuckle, leaning over to take the wheel when your body shuddered with release. “focus on driving,” he’d tease, but the way his fingers stayed inside you, lazy and possessive, told you he loved watching you lose control.

and then there were the nights he’d show up at your place unannounced. he’d wait until you were on a call, talking business, before pulling you into his lap, lifting your hips just enough to slide his cock inside you, slow and deliberate. he loved testing your resolve, seeing how long you could keep a straight face while he fucked you slowly, making you squirm on top of him, trying to keep your voice steady.

sometimes, he’d wake you up in the middle of the night, slipping into bed beside you, his hands already working you open, kissing your neck, your back, until you were moaning into the pillow. “needed you,” he’d whisper, voice husky and laced with sleep, but you knew that wasn’t the whole truth. he needed you, yes, but you needed him just as much.

he even had a habit of pulling you into the private elevator in your building, pressing the emergency stop button just to have you to himself for a few more minutes. you’d be pinned against the mirrored walls, his hands all over you, mouth on yours, devouring every moan that slipped out. the ride would resume as if nothing had happened, but the way your clothes were a little more rumpled, the way your lips were a little more swollen, would always be a reminder of just how far gone you both were.

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

[elsaellaelys]

The most amazing fanfics about JJ Maybank

(Straight from my collection)

a/n: I was going throught my likes and had an amazing idea: putting all my favorite JJ fics in one post so everyone could enjoy it with me! That's why I'm taking so much to post my requested fics, but they're coming...

I hope you enjoy this as much as I. This fanfics inspired me and helped me throught the last months and I couldn't be more grateful for this lovely community! <333

--★--

JJ in his red cut off shirt

JJ working on his bike

JJ Maybank is a munch

@lilastrocup JJ's masterlist

My angel

Fishing in the dark

Talk fast

The attractive things JJ Maybank does

Happy Anniversary

JJ loves when you leaves scratches on his back

Ouch!

Sugar lips

sub!JJ

JJ and innocent reader

You comfort JJ after a fight with his dad

JJ suck**g on his gf's t*ts

Not her

idcntlikedarness milestone event ?

Cutting JJ's hair

Kook princess and make up kisses

Sea and sand

JJ giving the reader aftercare

JJ calling reader mama

Vulnerable

At last

JJ always moan when you pull his hair

JJ and more aftercare

Sp*t ?

Pinky promise

Tired of rid**g JJ

Magic touch

Lets listen to some music - JJ for I think he knows

Matching tatoos with JJ

Whiny soft!dom!JJ

Good morning sunshine

Home is where the heart is

When JJ accidentally stepped on your foot

Hold back

Now you gotta...

JJ is caught by pogues being the little spoon

Sick

The one where JJ loves your lipstick

Stress relief with JJ

I would wait forever and ever

JJ taking care of you while you're sick...

JJ's too shaggy and grown out hair

Burnt pancakes

Permanent

JJ x John B's little sister

Tease

Peace & Love

Vampire

High s*x

Praise k*nk

Sick day

JJ drying your hair

Scratching

Overthinker

Need any help?

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

@moremaybank : dirty martini with JJ

JJ putting his arm around your neck

Calling JJ dad

JJ helping you relax

JJ comforting you after a break up

Love and blow*es

(Soft) enemies to lovers

Bf!JJ headcannons

JJ gives you flowers

Knight in shining armor

Just read it. You didn't know how much you needed this.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Wasteland Education

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: You ask a question and the Ghoul is more than happy to give you a demonstration.

Warnings: Rope play, boot play, knife play, threats, it’s all a bit dubious

Thank you to @slasher-smasher for this brilliant prompt.

Gif by @fukutomichi

“Now this one right here is called a bowline knot. If ya’ do it right,” deft fingers loop and tighten the rope, “It ain’t gonna budge.”

“Tight—it hurts, it’s too—

“Don’t interrupt a man when he’s talkin’, sugar. Pay attention, now. There’s gonna be a test.” The Ghoul stands, end of the rope in hand. Boots swish through sand as he stalks over to the rusted Chryslus. He anchors the rope to the hitch and tests its hold before returning to your struggling, supine form.

Your arms, now stretched over your head and secured to the car by your wrists, are lashed together with several feet of rope that dig into your flesh and rub it raw. Your left leg is bent at the knee, calf tethered to thigh. More rope twines around the limb, different knots punctuating each loop.

“Please, my leg is falling asleep—

“Keep it up and I’ll put one in your mouth,” he chides, crouching at your side. As you grunt and attempt to roll your ankle to work feeling back into your leg, your gaze lifts to the scarred face of the Ghoul. He watches you squirm, smug satisfaction in his expression. Behind him, the sunset blazes orange on the horizon. Wisps of cloud like pale pink fingers reach across the sky.

The heat of the day departs with the setting sun. A rapidly cooling breeze billows over dunes and blows loose grains of sand across your exposed skin. Goosebumps raise in quick succession along intricately tied limbs. You wear nothing but a tattered t-shirt and underwear, something you’d been told was “essential to the learnin’ process.”

The snide remark about your bullshit meter going haywire had landed you in your current predicament.

Eyes darkened by the brim of a hat slide over to your free leg. You suppress the urge to draw it up toward your chest and spare it the same numbing fate as its twin.

“I-I think I got it, we don’t have to do anymore,” you try, your shoulders beginning to ache with how they’re pulled taut over your head.

“You asked the question, baby. I’m just makin’ sure you get all the information you need.”

You curse your curiosity. Late afternoon had seen the Ghoul quietly organizing supplies, you lounging nearby and chomping on jerky. The meticulous way he’d looped his lasso had prompted your idiotic question: ‘Can you teach me how to tie knots like that?’ His response—the crooked smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth—should have sent you running for the hills.

A gnarled hand grips your ankle. Calloused fingers trace the curve of your calf and slot behind your knee. Pressure forces your knee to your chest as the opposite hand reaches for another length of rope. The vulnerable position—thighs spread open, the Ghoul kneeling between them—brings heat to your cheeks and makes you swallow to lend moisture to your dry throat.

If he’s affected by your pose, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his focus is on the twine he circles around your knee. “Here, we’ll employ a slip knot. Easy to undo in a hurry.” The zip of the line reaches your ears as it’s pulled tight—too tight—just above your knee. Your hamstring protests the strain when your leg is hiked up. The Ghoul stands and strides over to the car hitch once more.

Unhurried footsteps muffled by sand herald his reappearance. The shredded duster brushes your skin as he steps over your newly strung up leg to stand between your splayed thighs.

“Hm, now look at that. Just needs a bow,” he purrs and you can’t help the nervous shifting of your shivering body. Pins and needles prick your limbs, your nerves screaming their demand for freedom. You’d beg if it wouldn’t make your situation worse.

The Ghoul lifts the toe of his boot and slides his heel forward to press the sole to your clothed cunt. You suck in a sharp inhale through your teeth and twitch, the muscles in your jaw popping to contain your indigence. However, all it takes is a swirl of his ankle to pull a pitiful little whimper from your throat. He keeps adding pressure until you’re bucking your hips and straining against your bonds, lips parted and panting, sweat chilling on your brow.

“As much as I’m enjoying the sight a’ ya’ humpin’ my boot like a cat in heat,” he announces, pulling his foot away and reaching for his knife, “All this racket yer makin’ s’gonna attract somethin’ I ain’t keen on dealin’ with.”

The blade gleams in the fading light when it slides free of its sheath. An anxious cry sticks in your throat as the Ghoul kneels near your left leg.

“Time for that final exam I promised. I’m gonna point to a knot and yer gonna tell me what it is. Every mistake’ll earn ya’—“ he raises the knife and twists it to and fro for emphasis, “—a correction.” Your chest heaves, pulse galloping, cold sweat sticking your hair to the back of your neck.

“It’ll be in yer best interest not to fuck up. There’s no shortage of critters out here who’ll come runnin’ at the scent of blood.”

[katalyist]

Life series!Grian a survivor not a traitor

Alternative title: I thought about Life series!Grian for too long again and because Tumblr doesn't have a character limit I'm putting my thoughts on the Internet.

I'm not normal in how while watching Cleo's secret life final episode there was a silent agreement that Grian was no loyal when they had that conversation with Scott when they were trying to convince Gem to be on their side.

"I mean, don't ask about Grian's loyalty"

And Scott response was "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses quicker in my life. As soon as Joel dropped, the bad boy glasses were off"

To which Grian responded "My boys died, what did you want from me?"

Like how is Grian seen has someone that betrays or isn't loyal to his teammates? HE IS LOYAL, HE IS JUST TOO COWARD. He has never betray a teammate first.

Look, for example to third life: He promised Scar his life, and altough he warns the rest of players at the beginning about the scams Scar was doing, he always do what Scar did, he helped him, he create traps and didn't thought on betraying him until Scar betray him first, until Scar did it, when he recovered he was so mad and just jump to them shouting out that Scar was a traitor. AND THEN when Scar apologies and offers Grian to have the win he refuses because he still considers Scar his ally, and then the cactus ring happens and he feels bad, he feels bad for killing Scar, I don't think a traitor would be that bad to the point of killing themselves

Then in last life, where he killed two of his four teammates and started his reputation as "allies killer". First of all, when he turned red he had the oppurtinity to just turn on them, sure, he went back to the nether and threat Mumbo, but it was mostly joking and I think the most messed up thing was how afraid he was of not having any teammates that he was willed his best friend but couldn't find the courage on himself. The next episode he has already a plan to go back with his team AND get Joel out of red, like- he planned a way to be back with his allies and get his new ally (that if I had to remember you, was the one that killed him, but Grian was perfectly with him because he understands it was for the red impulses) out of red. Once he gets his yellow life back and goes back to the southlanders for a happy teammate reunion and discovers Jimmy was exiled he doesn't hesitate in saying he doesn't want him back because he betrayed the southlands; they have the votation, he says 'no' inmediatly and is surprised that other people said yes but doesn't oppose to it.

When Mumbo and Jimmy turned red he didn't try to kill them until their few attempts of murder, he did not attack Mumbo when he tried to end cristal him, he didn't attack them, even when they had that terrible attempt of a trap for him and Martyn. He attacked them when Jimmy physically tries to punch him to the trap that he looses the little patient he had left and kills him and then Mumbo for trying to stop him. Then Martyn betrayed him because of the boogeyman curse and when Grian finds Impulse he sounds so wounded because of that but even then he doesn't try to go for him, he makes a plan with Impulse to put a Wither on the base of team B.E.A.S.T because they were one of the biggest threats. Once Impulse died he was back with Joel and he didn't betray or left him, even when he had the opportunity to join bigger alliances than him.

With that out of the way we arrive to the fatal Double Life, I feel that this is the catalyst of Grian's character misinterpretation, mostly because of the cheat situation but: 1, that him and Scar and soulmates doesn't mean they are allies (see the two pair of soulmates that were literally divorce) and 2, he really tried to protect Scar and be a good ally. He made a base, he warned Scar to not go to places he could die and he even trust him with the sugar cane, when he lost it he trust Scar the sand he isn't even that angry or dissapointed on him. It also applies to BigB, he was a great ally with him too! He gave him sugarcane, cookies, tnt, they didn't attack eachother and the only reason why he killed him was because he forgot BigB was soulmates with Ren in his red madness, he even had a funeral for him and apologise for killing him. That is not traitor behaviour if you ask me.

And then finally Limited Life (my excuse and the real season I wanted to talk because I haven't left that bread bridge), the season where Grian is in his most loyal teammate arc of all. He is a coward of course, he plays safe always, in every single season, and that is what ends up being one of the reasons why Joel ends up dead. The bad boys were too reckless and idiots (in an affectionate way, I love them) for him to not fear for their lives constantly, and yes they almost felt apart, but that was after Jimmy killed Grian. Grian left Jimmy get the kills, they were trying to save him, when Tango (the boogeyman) killed Jimmy he didn't took the two hours from him because that would had permakill him, at the end Jimmy didn't die because of him, he just slip from the platform. They had the funeral and all, he left diamonds at his grave as an offer.

With Joel it is a little different, Grian didn't betray him, he didn't kill him, but he wasn't there because he was afraid of dying, in the middle episode 7 Joel wants to murder the family because they wanted to kill Jimmy "It wasn't their fault he died" trying to persude him to not do that to which Joel answers "I'm gonna send Scar a message" and Grian almost begs "No Joel, you got to be careful or I'm gonna be alone. I'm gonna be a singular bad boy" but he doesn't follow him, he doesn't go to kill people with him because they don't have a plan and it's obvious they will die.

Grian is a survivor, when he notices things are getting ugly he looks for a way out. When Joel goes on his murderous rampage after they talk to BigB he reunite again with him and Pearl to offer himself as a ally, making a list of all the things he is useful for, selling himself because he knows he will be alone at the end of that episode and alone players are easy targets. At first he wants them to become bad boys, he doesn't want to leave the mark, but they refused, and a survivor has to do what they have to do. He isn't even hiding why he wants to be friends with them and they don't have a problem with that.

"I have already kind of accepted he's gonna die in a way" he says while making a trap for the nosy neighbours while watching how Joel died (again)

"I mean, you completely abandon him at this point" Pearl points out (and if I watched Pearl more I could talk about how Life Series Pearl seems to have really trust issues with people that is so confident in leaving allies behind because she keeps repeating how Grian is not with Joel, she is so 'I will die for you', and it was prove in the final of secret life, I love her so much).

And Grian doesn't deny it, he does try to excuse his behavior with a "Joel reaches a point where he just loses his mind completely and he was way past that a while ago. Jimmy's death has kind of got an adverse affect on him" just to be silent a second, finish placing the TNT cards and going "But I will have to go and see if he is okay in a minute"

He cares about his last truly ally even when he knows Joel will die, Grian can't just stand still and wait for it to happen "I'm gonna have to go and see if Joel is okay. He must be on less than an hour and if I don't say bye, I'm gonna regret it"

And once he is with Joel again he doesn't hide that he has allied with the nosy neighbours from him. It is the first thing he tells him actually "I've just been like making new friends because you have lost your mind". That is not betray behavior, that is not 'I'm gonna back stab you' or 'I'm leaving you now'. And Joel gets it, he gets that Grian is too coward to confront people directly, that he is not a pvper and accepts him like that. And then they have this conversation on Skynet while trying to get kills for Joel:

"Yeah, do you know what would be really funny? If I just knocked you off right now but I won't, I won't, I won't do that"

"I would do that for you. I would do that for you. Bad boys for life"

HOW IS THAT NOT LOYALTY? Grian, the one that is afraid of death, willing to die for his ally? Without hesitation answering that yes, he would do that for Joel. We have the hole "Kill me Joel. KILL ME" dialogue and scene after that even. Grian didn't wanted Joel to died, when he has five minutes Grian tries to tell him to kill him again before Joel denies. When they are going to see who Joel can kill is when he starts hesitating because he would lose two hole hours to get Joel back to just one hour, he is balancing saving his allies with keeping himself alive and at the end Joel's rampage ends up killing him and Grian is without his bad boy.

He enters in full survivor mode and downplays Joel's death in front of everybody but contradicting his discourse of 'It was getting expensive to keep him alive' once everyone is gone he tells Pearl and BigB they should have a funeral for Joel fully knowing they weren't his allies. He makes Joel a grave too, like they did with Jimmy and says some words for him. How could that not be loyalty? The last episode he uses the bad boy skin, all season he forgot to use it and had to be remember by the others to use it, and then he puts it even if he 'isn't a bad boy anymore' to honor his allies.

I think the most close he was to betray an ally was when at the end he enacted the sword and ally with Impulse and Etho whitouth talking it with Pearl and it ending with both Etho and Pearl killing eachother to be in peace. When they first met after Grian enactes the sword and Pearl goes to kill he tries to stop her, but he doesn't defend her (or Etho), he just tells them to stop. Grian character just... always leaves his allies do what they want? even if it is not the best for them, it is something he does with every one of his alliance really, he does his own and they do his own, Cleo actually points it out on their last episode while they are talking to the heart fundation and Grian gets bored and goes to do his plan to get Gem and Cleo is like 'yeah, he does his own things, don't pay attention to him'.

In Secret Life he was also truly loyal to the roomates, in part I think because he was afraid of loosing his only oportunitty to get some friends after three episodes of loneliness. Grian is always so desesperate to make allies every season, make people like him because it would mean someone would fight for him. The rommates is a very solid team and he reassures himself and they how he made the correct decision. They are not as attach as he was with his bad boys (that, talking about them, he had this weird no-alliance with Joel, changing hearts and not really attacking eachother until the very end) but it is stable.

Grian includes them in his plans, if they are not on board he respects it, but when he thinks it is something that can protect them he insists. He insists they should go to Joel's platform where he hide from the zombie apocalypse because it is the easiest to defend and they were chase by the people with more health on the server. When Etho died they took it seriously, when they are scaping he goes first through the portal that belongs to Gem, Impulse and Scott because "No point both of us dying" he could have left Cleo go first to be more safe but he didn't, he tries to make a trap to get Gem and the Scotts and he tells Cleo to back off because they would get hurt if they stay to close because he will manually activate it.

My conclusion? Grian is not a traitor, he has never betray his teammates until they cross the line first. He is a bad teammate? Oh, totally, not because he won't provide his allies with supplies or plans but because the moment it becomes dangerous, too risky for his constant safe plays he distants himself because he doesn't like risky plays, he is an expert in the 'long game' even if he won't win anything with it, he also has some kind of honor (if you want to put it that way) he won't attack the weakest unless he is corner to do it to keep himself alive, he always goes for the biggest alliance, the people with most hearts, the people with most potential of giving to bring them down with the rest.

As always thank you for reading how normally sane I'm about Life series Grian. Again, I write this mini kinda essays on the fly and don't check facts too much but Grian himself implying he is not loyal had me "are you sure about that?" and then this was write on my drafts. Thanks for coming to my Grian talk!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unorthodox 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“I think that’s everything,” you smile at Conrad across the table. 

Sy continues to loom and pace around the edge of the room. He’s been doing that. Hovering like a vulture. Even when you try to get him to participate, he only has grumbles and glares. You’re used to his grumpiness but lately, he’s been nearly intolerable. 

“Mm, yes, I think it is,” Conrad smirks, “shall we have a celebratory drink? Seems the old boar could use it?” 

“I’m younger than you,” Sy stomps over, his ears sharp. “So how’s that?” 

“Yes, well, one might not guess it by looking. Do relax, I am merely making fun,” Conrad crosses his arms. “Is there a reason you are so antsy to be away? I was rather happy to receive an old friend such as yourself.” 

“Nice seein’ ya and all but we gotta get back,” Sy crosses his arms. “Izzie’s got friends waitin’, don’t ya?” 

He nudges you with his elbow and you send him a skeptical look. Since when did he care so much? 

“Ah yes, so you mentioned some wonderful ladies back home. Do have a drink in my honour. Such a considerate boss, eh, Syverson?” He smirks. 

You stand and press your fingertips to the table, “thanks. Uh, I guess he’s right. The sooner we’re on the road, the sooner we’re back. It was nice meeting you. And doing business.” 

“Always a pleasure, Syverson, and I do enjoy a beautiful lady darkening my door now and again.” 

Sy growls and you try not to notice. You’re not sure if it’s territorial or what but you don’t need him acting like a guard dog. You prefer his slightly oblivious gruffness to his intense derision. 

“Thank you. You’re a great host.” 

You shake Conrad’s hand and he tugs it up. Once again, he kisses your knuckles and sends you a wink. Sy grabs your other arm and yanks you away. 

“Get on with it, Izzie,” he snarls as he drags you away. 

You stagger with his furious pace, not mentioning that he hardly bothered to give a proper goodbye. The way he’s gripping you so tight, you can’t think of much else but the creak in your bones. You dig in your heels as you get through the compound door. 

“Yow! Sy!” You yank your hand away at last. He takes a few steps before he stops and faces you. “What is your problem? You can’t grab me like that.” You raise your arm and rub the tender skin, “you hurt me.” 

“Ah, I’m-- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Iz. Ya know I wouldn’t ever--” 

“But you did. What’s gotten into you, anyway? Why are you being so rude?” 

“I’m not,” he harrumphs and drops his shoulders. “I just wanna be home. Bein’ out here in all this sand, takes me back. That’s it.” 

“Is that it?” You challenge and stand straight. Even with perfect posture, you hardly measure up to the large man. 

Sy frowns, “I’m sorry, Izzie, truly. Why don’t ya give me a smack then? I deserve it.” 

You almost laugh, instead snorting, “I wouldn’t-- I’m not that sort, you know that.” 

“I do. It’s why I like ya, Iz. You temper me out. I’m a big oaf without you,” he looks away bashfully. “How about you go grab your bag and I’ll go say sorry. You’re right. No way to treat a friend. And partner.” 

You consider him and slowly nod. “Alright, I’ll meet you at the gate then.” 

“Sure thing, sugar.”  

You tilt your head at the pet name but have no time to comment. You move aside as he moves towards you and let him pass. You stare after him for a second then turn back to your path. You know how he feels. You just want to be home in your bed. Oh, and it would be nice to have cell reception. 

You find your room after a few stray wanderings and grab your bag. You head back out, still lost in the maze of the compound. You find the sunlight and walk out into the blaze of the noontime apex. You go to the gate and peer around at the mercenaries in their padded vests and harnesses. 

As you wait, you grow uneasy. You’re still not entirely used to this job. Not always. It’s easier to manage Sy’s grocery list or his forgotten appointments, but out here, in the shit as he calls it, you feel lost. 

He appears with a wave of his large hand. The fingerless glove nearly blends into his skintone from the wear and tear. You face him fully as he approaches and he points behind you. 

“Ready to go for a ride?”  

You follow his finger to the buggy just on the other end of the yard. You squint and turn back to him. 

“Conrad can be nice when he wants to,” he grins, “you wanna drive?” 

You stare at him, deeply considering the prospect. You don’t know if you trust him to make the drive and yet, you don’t if you should trust yourself either. He dangles the key from a thick finger and you roll your eyes. 

“I wanna get outta here in one piece,” you snatch it. 

He chuckles and lets you have it. He reaches for you and you wince. He grabs the strap of your bag and hauls it onto his shoulder next to his. 

“I’ll get these secured, Iz,” he offers. 

You hesitate. He’s being awfully helpful. Not that he can’t be but the last few days have been strange. You guess both of you might be getting a bit homesick. 

[deepdisireslonging]

Remembering the Forgotten

The Reader revisits the beach that looks up at her dig site. But on this trip, something or someone in the water calls to her. When she answers, who she meets is more ancient than any artifact she’s ever held. And all he wants to do is possess and pleasure her to thier heart’s content.

Pairing: Sea God!Loki x Archaeologist!Reader

Warnings/Promises: cw food mention, bad night-swimming safety, magic, SMUT, oral (female receiving), p in v, shadow tentacle/magic bondage, overstimulation, ritualistic-ish smut, divine sugar baby proposition, mutual pining, bad archaeology humor

Word Count: 5500 (oops)

Note: I had another dig in Cyprus and I got to revisit my favorite beach. Which of course gave me a few ideas. Unlike the reader, I did forget my water shoes. If you ever go to Cyprus, don’t be me. Sorry not sorry for this blatant self-insertion fic I came up with on my last day of the dig. Happy reading!

With squeals of delight, you and your girl friends dashed into the waters. The waters off Kourion beach in Cyprus were barely rippled by waves. Last weekend, with the entire island lacking a breeze, the sea had been as calm as lake water. But this weekend, they managed several soft breaking waves. Which was a wonderful escape from the high temperatures ravaging the summer. And this year, you had not forgotten your swim shoes to combat the pebbles that outlined the beaches like a low defense wall.

And the beach was packed with tourists. And locals. Pooling your money, your little group had snared the last rentable chair and umbrella.

Your friend, Chiara, sighed as she let a wave wash over her shoulders. “This is why we let you talk us into these trips.”

The last of your trio, Lara, re-emerged after dipping her head under the water. “Almost makes all of those visits to your sites worth it.” She spun in place, digging a hole in the sand with her toes. “This is the perfect way to wash off all that sweat we made in Paphos.”

“Hey. I made sure you both wore enough sunscreen. And we all had enough water.” You pouted, a little hurt by Lara’s disdain. “I warned you guys that Paphos was luminous. The Romans loved white stones. Which unfortunately reflects every ounce of sunlight, but it was helpful back before electric light. Some of those stones were dimmed because the Romans also liked to purposefully weather the stone. They thought it gave their structures a worn, domestic look.” You were only a little miffed that both of your friends didn’t enjoy the archaeology of the site as much as you did. Then again, you were the one who dug here. They had to be bribed into this non-dig trip with promises of shopping in Nikosia and Omodos.

Lara dipped her head apologetically. Glancing up at the cliff-face that abutted the coat, she asked, “so where’s your site? Can we see it from here?”

“Oh, yeah.” You pointed from one side to the other. “That white tarp structure on the left is the House of Achilles, named for the mosaic inside. It’s next to the back exit of the site. And right there is where the paragliders take off, off the cliff. The whole stretch here is the city. And there, just right of that dip in the cliff, is my site. Past the curve there is the house of Eustolius, a rich guy who built a bathhouse for the city after the earthquake in the fourth century. But the whole top there is Kourion.”

A rogue wave nearly topped the three of you, making you all laugh even as you sputtered around the salt water. When the water leveled out, you could touch bottom again. The sand under your toes was soft and completely devoid of seashells.

Chiara looked back to watch for more rogues. “That’s still cool that you worked here. Have you ever thought about moving to the island? You obviously love it here. With so many museums, and all your professor’s connections, you could probably get a job. Easy.”

You dipped your head underwater to delay your response. This topic was a secret sore spot. “I don’t really have the personal credentials for the museums around here. My Greek is tolerable.”

“But it would get better the longer you’re here,” Lara added. She jumped with you as a wave rolled through.

“Perhaps. But,” you licked your salty lips, “I’m not a fan of the schmoozing you have to do at events. I would like a museum lab job. But not if it requires me to make… appearances. Makes me feel like I’m an animal in a zoo.”

“That’s fair.” As a preacher’s kid, Chiara knew what it was like to be constantly on display. Never able to step out of line in case it reflected bad on her dad. “Maybe we can find you a rich British guy who wants to vacation here permanently.”

You all giggled at that. Almost like they had been summoned, a group of three guys waved and hooted at your trio. It made you all burst out laughing. But before they could swim close, you all took off over the waves for “deeper” water. Being Kourion, the water didn’t actually get deeper. But definitely further from the shore.

Chiara didn’t let the subject go. “Come on. You’ve joked that a good, arranged marriage would be excellent for your school’s archaeology department.”

“Yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I’m more likely to get hit on by a Russian than a Brit here.”

Lara gracefully drifted the conversation to something less embarrassing for you. She and Chiara began to plan the next shopping adventure.

But your focus had been stolen. Further out, near the line of buoys that kept people from swimming out to sea, you could see a man. His dark hair stood out against the bright horizon. The longer you looked at him, the stronger you could feel the current pulling at your legs.

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You turned back to your friends, barely noticing the sudden drop in current. “What?”

“Are there any sites you want to see around Famagusta?”

“Yes… but we’re not going to Famagusta.”

“Why not?”

“It’s in the North!” While you re-gave them a quick history of the island and it’s split into more-or-less two countries, you could feel eyes prickling over your skin. When you looked into deeper water, you could have sworn that your dark-haired man was joined by someone with hair like the sun. But then Chiara was dragging you all back towards the shore for gelato.

A wave swelled up from out of nowhere, quickly overtaking your trio. It wasn’t a rogue. But it’s undertow fought your arms paddling in the opposite direction. Like the sea wanted you not only to stay in the water. But to go out deeper.

Which was ridiculous.

All the same, as the three of you crossed the small stones to the hot sand, something from the water called to you. You looked back. Your dark-haired mystery was gone.

***

 “Why can’t I have her?” Loki slipped outside the buoys to the deep-water side. From there, nobody on the beach would be able to see them. While the mortals had put the line there as a deterrent for swimmers, he had applied magic to the rope long ago. “Brother, it has been a long time since I called a mortal to me. I have been patiently waiting.”

At his side, Thor crossed his arms. “These days are not like the old ones. The mortals will miss her. We can no longer take who we want while their families consider it a blessing. Now they send boats and pray to younger gods.” He followed Loki’s gaze in your direction. “Forget her, brother. Like you have all others.”

Loki nodded, even if that last statement was wrong.

Sure that you were far out of his brother’s mind, Thor dipped under the waters and swam out to sea.

But the dark-haired god lingered. With his magic, he could see you clearly sitting under that gaudy umbrella. He could smell the sweet sugar of your gelato. The warmth of the sun on your skin was cooled by the shade. He could taste each remaining rivlet of saltwater running down your arms and legs.

Loki leaned over the buoy. “Look at me,” he willed. After an eternity of seconds, you did. He knew you’d barely be able to see him over the waves and the glare of the sun. But he saw your head tilt to one side; curious.

He willed toward you another command. There wasn’t a chance that you’d swim out that second. But he could wait. He could relax under the waves until you stepped back into his domain, called by his silent whisper in your ear.

“Come back to me.”

***

Nightlife on Kourion beach was less stressful than the daytime. With the sun gone, the waves took on a foreboding warning. The only light on the waters came from the few restaurants sitting on the sand. Your trio was sat at the more expensive one in the middle. Next to your morning’s umbrella. This was also the one with the good gelato and other sweets behind display glass.

Chiara and Lara were happily munching on their desserts. You hadn’t ordered one. Instead, you were content to stare off into the waves, counting the stars that glimmered overhead.

The waves still called to you. Their relaxing pulse and crash pulled on you like a current, or like a string attached to your chest. You made up your mind.

“I’m going for a swim.”

Startled, Lara looked out into the waters. “Are you sure? It’s going to be really dark out there.”

You stood, shedding your wrap-around skirt and folding it over the back of your chair. “I’ll stay where you can see me. I promise.”

With the drop of the sun, the sand was cool under your toes. The water was pleasantly warm. Without your water shoes, you gingerly crossed the stones. Stepping into the sand on the other side was a relief. And further out, you could swim in waters less choppy than that morning.

Then you kept swimming out. And further. And further.

Looking back, you could still see your friends as if you’d never left the stones. And you could steadily stand on the perfectly smooth sand beneath the water. You could walk. Calmly, watching the stars and the shore, you kept walking backwards completely oblivious to how far out you were.

Until your shoulder blades bumped into the buoys.

“Hello.”

With a start, you dove into the water to swim away. But when you came up for air, you hadn’t moved.

The dark-haired man on the other side of the rope slid his eyes over you. They were bright, the same color as the Mediterranean on a sunny day. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m not sure what else you’d thought would happen. Poppin’ up outta the ocean like that.” Your heart thundered in your ears. The gentle movement of the water circled around you until you were calm again. “What are you doing out this far? In the dark?”

He grinned, dipping his head to face the water. “I was… I was waiting for you.” His eyes glanced over your lips. “The sea called to you, didn’t it? That’s why you came this deep. In the dark.”

For a split second, you considered diving under the waves to swim away again. But something about him… you had a feeling you would make it about as far as last time. “Who are you?”

Again, he grinned. This time, he kept eye-level with you. His canines were curved and sharp, like the teeth of a barracuda. He took your hand as you shivered. “I am known as Loki.” His hand, shimmery with salt water and the hint of scales, dragged you closer to the buoy. He kissed over your knuckles. “And you have nothing to fear with me.”

His kiss left your skin tingling. With a start, you realized why you had been so drawn to him that morning. “You… you visited my dig. Last season.” The tall, suited man. You had thought it odd for someone to wear so much black in so high a heat. But the kiss he laid on your knuckles was the same. The current of him was the same. As were his eyes.

Loki glanced back over the deeper call of the sea. “That – that I did. Though I would appreciate you not repeating it. I’m… I’m not supposed to visit land.” The water shuddered around him. “But, yes. We have met before. I was enchanted by you, Y/N. On land, I couldn’t call you to me. But when you and your friends came back to my beach,” he nodded, “I don’t usually believe in luck. Today has altered my perception.”

Your perception was changed too. The scales. The teeth. You should have been terrified. Instead, every word he said swam around your head like a sweet perfume. And like perfume, even if you did manage to get away, his thrall would linger. “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“Because, I’m – I’m just—”

“Just you?” Before you realized what he was doing, the rope of the buoy drifted away, and he tugged you closer to his chest. The rope closed back behind you. “Just you: the archaeologist. The one who remembers the forgotten. Who gives stories to the lost. A woman who sees through dust and grime the beauty of the ancient and shares it with this new world.” He trailed his fingers across your forehead. “You chose this lonesome life.”

You started and reached back for the rope. When had it gotten so far away? “I am not lonesome. There was a whole crew up there with the same skills.”

Loki reached out, detangling your hand from the rope like a parent would their child from a sweet. “You saw things they didn’t.”

“It was my unit. My square of dirt to uncover. It’s my job to see things they don’t.”

His face drifted closer to yours. “But your view is unique.” Nose to nose, he smelled salty sweet. His grip moved further up your arm, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. “Let me show you ‘why you.’ Let me show you a unique view.”

This was crazy. He was probably dangerous. But, the scientist side of your heart, the one always yearning to learnt he unknown, wanted to see how this would play out. You wanted to know that ‘unique view.’

He smiled as you nodded.

The rope drifted further away.

“Wait!”

Loki stopped.

“I need… promise me that you will return me to my friends.”

“I promise: I will return you to your friends.” His words made the still waters ripple. The same way water echoes around a crocodile as it calls its mate.

“Whole and in one piece.”

His smile deepened. “I promise: I will return you to your friends. Whole, and in one piece.”

When the water stopped rippling, his arms wrapped around your waist. Above you, the stars barely moved. Around you, the water dragged on you like the wake of a large ship. The next time you blinked, Kourion beach was gone. In front of you, a large white stone, shaped like a clamshell, stuck up out of the water. The final steppingstone in a trio from the beach.

“That’s,” you gasped, “that’s Aphrodite’s rock.” You pushed him away to spin around. “But- but that’s two hours down the coast!” When you swam back into his space, you noticed dark tendrils surrounding his shadow under the water. “Who are you?”

“I am Loki.”

“Loki… what are you?”

He circled his thumbs over your shoulders while he looked out to sea. “I am the forgotten. The story-less. Will,” he whispered, “will you remember me, Y/N?”

The eyes that bored into you were more green than blue. And they were filled with so much desperation that your chest ached. You slid your hands up his bare arms to his shoulders. You rubbed your thumbs into his skin, mirroring the movement that he had stilled. “But… Aphrodite. Isn’t this her… her territory?”

He chuckled. Giving you gentle push, the water moved out of the way until your back was against the rough rock. “She won’t mind. We’re just borrowing it.”

You reached up to cup his face. This was crazy. He was acting as if… as if he was some sort of god. Long forgotten. Maybe he was. Who knew who all the ancients worshiped? How many temples and high places had gone missing through the millennia? In your own excavated villa… it was missing ninety percent of its painted frescos. All that lost data.

He was asking you to remember him.

“I don’t know if I can remember you.” Your lips trembled with shuddered breaths as he moved closer. His chest was warm under your hands. “I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not. If I wake up—”

“Why does it matter if this is a dream?” He ran his nose along your cheek. “Are you willing to dream it? To dream it with this ancient artifact?”

You grinned, mirroring his movement with your nose and his cheek. “Old? You don’t look a day over nine hundred.”

“Why thank you.”

As he spun with you in his arms, you laughed. He laid you on a flat place on the rock that jutted out into the water. The waves were picking up. They drifted over your chest, your breasts sticking half above and below their touch.

Biting your lip, you ran your fingers through his dark hair. “You know, they say if you swim around this rock seven times… Aphrodite blesses you with her beauty.”

“You don’t need such a blessing.” Loki crawled over top of you, kissing your forehead. “And you’ve been talking to a younger crowd. The older story is that she re-grants you your virginity for swimming around. Will you want such a blessing after tonight with me?” His mouth fell open as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. His heaving breath said he could taste the salt on your lips.

“Depending on how this goes…” you arched your chest up into his. “Seven laps won’t do the trick. And, if I am to remember you… why would I need the blessing?”

Eyes glowing, you couldn’t tell whether it was with moon light or desire, Loki dipped his head to press a deep kiss against your lips. Your whole body responded. Immediately, your hands dug into the soft skin of his back. Your legs wrapped around him, tangling you two together like old lovers. When he kissed the under curve of your neck, his sharp teeth dragging over the sensitive skin, you trembled.

Was this a trick? Had he brought you here to drain you?

“You have nothing to fear from me, Y/N.” Loki kneaded his hands over your breasts. His body rocked into yours like a beginning storm. He whispered, “nothing to fear.” With a snap, your swimsuit was gone. Which left more of your skin to slide against his. The soft scales that covered his body made him look like he was filled with moonlight. Their edges caught at your skin like thousands of tiny kisses.

And you could feel him.

His length laid across your lower tummy. You hesitated to look down at it. Chiara’s spicy books had nothing on the heat and weight of it. The weight of him, ready for you. Waiting who knows how long for your return so he could have you. You felt precious. Like a beloved artifact newly found.

You cried out as his fingers curled into you. Out to sea, the waves crashed higher and higher. As did your pleasure. Loki sucked deeply at the valley between your breasts. You arched into his taste and ground down into his touch. Impossible as it was, you felt more than his two pairs of hands traveling across your skin exposed to the water. You thought about the tendril shadows you’d seen. Your definition of impossible was changing by the second. Especially when Loki mouthed at the side of your breast, then licked your nipple into his mouth. You were receiving lovemaking from a god. Your mind spun.

Digging a hand into his hair, attempting to move him as you liked failed. Loki knew what you needed. How, you didn’t care. But his fingers curled when you needed. They scissored you open in time with your gasps and moans. And his thumb circled your clit before you could begin to beg. But you begged anyway. Here was a god. Pinning you down to a goddess’s rock in the middle of the night. You begged for more. More of him. You wanted to feel him. Wanted to be full with him.

“All in due time, my love.” He kissed you deeply, darting his tongue between your teeth to taste more of your mouth. “I need to prepare you.”

“I’m ready. Please. Fill me. Fuck me. I’m yours, Loki. Please.”

He growled. The rumble pressed into your chest, making your thighs tremble around his hips. Curling his fingers rougher, Loki hummed with delight as your slick seeped into the sea around his touch. He slid back into the water, disappearing underneath it. But he dragged your waist further down the rock, until your hips were underwater too. Only then did he dip his tongue into your heat. You cried out to the empty night sky as he ravaged you with his long tongue. Fingers and tongue toying with your walls and your clit, your vision blurred quickly. His tendrils pinned down your writhing hips before you could crawl away from him.

And he kept going. Through a second and a third of your release. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth teased with danger. When he finally brought his head up out of the water, he stared you down like a creature untamed. His green eyes shined like back-lit emeralds. He placed his hands on your tummy and rested his chin there.

“Do you still want more, mortal?”

Despite a voice screaming in the back of your head that you’d had plenty… your body begged louder for more. Every cell was alight. Every nerve ending crackled with desire for what Loki was offering.

You reached for him. His fingers tangled with yours. Leaning up, he pinned your hands to the rock on either side of your head. He kissed your forehead while his cock rutted into your sex.

“That wasn’t an answer, my love. I need an answer. Or perhaps you’d like me to take you back to your friends already?”

Frantic, you shook your head. “Please. Fill me. Loki… need you.”

“Of course.”

Despite your whimpered pleas, Loki entered you slowly. You breathed out one breath in time with his thrust. And had to inhale for another. The drag of him teased with your sensitivity. With a final thrust that Loki groaned through, you came again. Your hands clawed the air, still pinned down high above your head. Loki panted. He watched your face as it contorted in pleasure. His scales rippled as your sounds washed over him.

“I could keep you forever,” he murmured.

Was that a threat or a promise?

He didn’t give you time to consider it either way. Fully seated, he refused to move. Instead, his fingers slowly circled your clit. The stars disappeared from your sight as you closed your eyes. Pinned down by your wrists in his other hand, you did your best to roll your hips to inspire him to move. But dark shadows wrapped around your thighs. They pulled your thighs away from Loki’s waist, spreading you open and capturing your movements. Loki increased the speed of his fingers. Unable to move, your voice made up for the difference. You cried out his name, Begging. Pleading. For what, you could never specify. But he understood. Loki gaze focused on the place where your bodies connected. A few moments later, he watched your body spasm around him. Your walls clamped down on his cock, making him moan.

“Only a few more to go.”

“What?” You opened your eyes. Under the starlight, you barely saw the tendrils dart through the water. But you felt them. You felt them wrap around every inch of you that was possible of shifting or arching. They took hold of your wrists, pinning them together. A few wrapped around your waist, pressing you into the rock. More crisscrossed over your chest, between your breasts, squeezing them and pinning down your torso. Within seconds, you couldn’t move a muscle. Except for the ones currently wrapped around a god.

Loki slid his hands up the underside of your thighs. “Look at you,” he purred. His thumbs smoothed just shy of holding open your lower lips. “Gorgeous and spread out, just for me.  My brother be damned.” He thrust once, joining your cry with his own. “All mine.”

Every movement was his own. You could do nothing. Except make every sound that your body willed. Pinned as you were, it heightened every in and out. Every delicate tracing of his fingertips across your skin was like fire. And you were very willing to burn. Or drown. The water crashed against you with the same force as his hips. A tendril kept your head above water. But as Loki’s pace stuttered and faltered, the shadows lost their strength.

You whimpered, “cum with me. Loki, let go.”

“Not yet.” He restarted a steady pace.

“Why not?”

“You’ll see. It’s part of the view.”

The view. The only unique view you cared about at this point was how Loki, your great god of the sea, looked like he was about two seconds from going feral sea monster on you. His eyes were wild and wide. Like he could see every tremble and tremor of your body. His breath stuttered as if he could feel your crashing pleasure like earthquakes. Your eyes crossed, blurring your vision of him. But that was part of the view too. As pleasure once again crested over your body, Loki’s grip tightened around you everywhere. His reaction was a mirror of what you were doing to him.

As your body came down from it’s high, the tendrils lightly squeezed and massaged. You fought to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes, Loki was panting above you. He cupped your face in his hand, pleased when you pressed your cheek into his palm.

“Can you give me one more, love?”

“Oh, Loki…”

“Just one more. I know you can. You’re doing wonderfully.” With a flick of his wrist, the tendrils moved away until you could only feel him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. The mixture of salt from the sea and your sweat made his mind spin. Quickly, he gripped the base of his cock. Still impaled within you, the fluttering of your walls kept him on edge. “Just one more. And then you’ll be mine.”

A smidgen of clarity tugged at your mind. “What?” What was he doing to you?

“One more, Y/N. Then all will be revealed.”

Finally free, you reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. It brought Loki close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you breathless, his last first drag out of your sex. When he slammed home within you, his shout rang against the stone under your head. Yours traveled to echo against the sky. You felt blissfully numb. With so much thrumming of your nerves and how worn out your pussy was, you were about ready to pass out into your deepest sleep ever.

“Give me one more, Y/N. Can you feel it? How perfectly you fit into my arms? How every pulse and beat of your heart matches mine? Can you see it? How well we fit together?” Loki gripped your chin, making you refocus on his face. “Please. Stay with me.”

Something about his tone told you the plea wasn’t just for tonight.

Then he was moving like the sea in a hurricane and you couldn’t think. Your hands clambered to feel him everywhere. Your thighs tightened around his hips. Your legs wrapped around him, locked closed at your ankles. He had pinned you into place. Now it was your turn.

He moaned as your nails dragged down his back. Panting and falling forward, Loki glared at you with a smile as you clamped your walls around his length. He kneaded your breasts in retaliation. Pinching your nipples between his fingers, he tugged on them to guide your body into an arch. It deepened the reach of his cock. Delighted, he wrapped an arm under the small of your back as you wailed his name. He could feel your release coming. And this time, he had no desire to hold back on his own.

“Come with me, Loki.” You ran your trembling thumb across his cheek. “Make me yours.”

“Yes, my love.”

The waves crashed against the rock around you. Gently misted with sea foam, you finally smiled as Loki filled you. The rush and heat of his release sent you spiraling into an orgasm of your own.

Loki continued to thrust, chasing the final sparks of pleasure. When he finally stopped, he gently pushed your sweat-stuck locks of hair off your face. He kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes under the tenderness of it.

When you reopened them, Loki had you stretched out on your own square of soft sand on Aphrodite’s pebble beach. He stretched out beside you, finally giving you the view of his whole form. His fingertips ran up and down your arm. You splayed out your hand on the sand, steadying yourself. How many times had he made you cum?

“Seven.”

“Hmm?”

He grinned. “One orgasm for each magic lap you could have taken.” Laughing with you, he especially watched some beads of water pool in the hollow of your throat as you laid back. “Stay with me.”

“Loki—”

“You will want for nothing. While I am mostly confined to the water, on land you will have everything you need. You can do archaeology year-round, if you want. Or only once a year. I can arrange everything. You need not struggle with finding a place to belong. You won’t have to… how did you put it? Schmoozing.”

You laughed, but felt a weight grow in your chest.

“The mortals are building new villas near here. You can pick one out. They’re an area that’s going to be called Aphrodite’s Hills.” He scoffed. “Since when do gods stay in the place of their birth? I can assure you, the one they sometimes call Zeus does not visit Crete.”

“Loki… I can’t.”

He froze, staring up at you. “Why?”

“For starters… you promised to take me back to my friends.”

His body shuddered. “Whole. And in one piece.”

“Yes.” You licked your lips. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I need – I don’t know what I need.”

Loki took back his touch. He dragged his finger through the sand instead, carving runes and spirals into the granules. “You’re not leaving for a while yet, right?”

“We leave a week from tomorrow.”

He nodded. As his voice stuttered, his eyes bored into yours. Begging. “Then think about it. You don’t have to decide right now. But… before you leave, visit the beach. Any beach. And bring me an answer.” He looked back down at the sand. “Even if it’s no.”

You curled your finger under his chin, guiding him to look at you. “I will.”

It only took a minute to give you back your swimsuit and return you to Kourion beach. The glow of the restaurant illuminated your friends in the distance.  Loki held you close and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Come back to me,” he whispered.

“I will.” You kissed him back. It took everything within you to pull away. “And no matter what happens… I will not forget you, Loki.”

He smiled, dipping his head before he could overwhelm you with how much he didn’t want you to leave. You drifted away, back under the buoys. With a nod, he sent a wave that carried you back to the beach. When you looked back, he was gone.

Lara waved as you walked out of the water. “There you are. We lost sight of you for a second when the waves got big.” As you joined them at the table, she shrugged. “Still not much of a swim. You were only out for, what, five minutes. Was it too dark and scary out there?”

Five… five minutes?

Chiara interrupted, “hey, we were just talking: you sometimes lick pottery to see if it’s glazed right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the oldest thing you’ve licked?”

You stammered, trying to think while your body was trying to recover from your divine experience. “Um, two- no. Three… thousand years old. My first dig was in the Levant. An Iron age site. I couldn’t tell pottery from bone. Bone sticks to your tongue while ceramic doesn’t—”

Lara laughed. “The oldest thing you’ve licked was three thousand years old. Damn! Would make a good t-shirt: I lick ancient things. Am I an archaeologist or did I go down on the old gods?”

Slapping at her shoulder with a giggle, Chiara urged her to be quiet as the people at a neighboring table looked over. But you were too busy thinking to notice. If you took up Loki’s offer, perhaps you could be one archaeologist who could boast of having done both.

*** An earlier trip to Cyprus: Aphrodite’s Rock (S, Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Masterlist

Other Loki Fics:

When in Paris (S, AR)

Sweet Revenge (S)

To Love the Sea:  Y/N is the daughter of a sea-side innkeeper. The area is known for its draw for pirates, but one pirate is feared above all others: Captain Loki. He offers to take her on adventures; is she willing to take the plunge? [Series Master] (S, complete)

[jarofstyles]

One Shots Masterlist

Masterlist of our one shots!

Check out our Patreon

Requests open, send yours in here

Order from oldest to newest!

Most have explicit content

Stay

Harry catches feelings for the girl he’s been hooking up with

Waterfalls

Harry gets a bit possessive at a pool party and Y/N is needy

Crush

Harry and Y/N both have a crush on each other

Indigo

Harry hates Y/N. She’s sure of it.

Backstage Business

The adrenaline on stage can be felt all over. Especially once he gets off.

Watermelon Sugar

“It’s about the female orgasm.”

Cry Me a River

When mean dom Y/N comes out to play

Toxic

When Harry just can’t help himself when Y/N is around… single or not.

Do You Feel Me Now

Part II to Toxic

Helping Hand

Y/N helped Harry, and now it’s her turn.

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

Harry’s an alpha with a particular sensitive sense of smell and ambition that won’t quit.

Selfish. Part II

Harry’s taken his best friend’s heart for granted for far too long

Through My Eyes

Harry takes pictures, Y/N has a secret and they have a project to do

Devilish

Y/N and Harry up to some devilish, dirty antics

Cozy

Harry is cozy. Or, Mountain Manrry author and hairdresser Y/N

Deep Inside

Werewolf!Harry is tired of waiting.

Sea View

Sugar baby!H relieves some stress from sugar mommy!Y/N, with a sea view.

Scarred

Harry and Y/N work as scare actors together- except no one has ever seen his real face.

In The Woods

Continuation of Scarred, Y/N and H make their way out to a new location for some fun

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Y/N gets snowed in at Harry’s House. (Friends to lovers)

Caught

Y/N catches her best friend and roommate in a compromising position- one that changes the course of their friendship.

One More Night of Freedom

Harry’s been having second thoughts about his marriage and Y/N helps him make the decision he’s been contemplating

Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s Mom has got it going on… and Harry’s taken notice. Or, older!Y/N

Growing Pains

Check in for Stacy’s Mom- Y/N has some hesitations

Bad Idea, Right?

It’s a bad idea, but she’s going to her exes party anyway.

Take Me Higher

Harry and Y/N on 4/20

Coconuts

Y/N and Harry on an island vacation… sun, sand, sex

Put Your Records On + Let Your Hair Down

pop star Y/N and rockstar H finally meet at an awards show after a string of near misses

Tis The Season

Breeding season, that is. Or, Wolfrry

Let It Burn

They’re equally as crazy, happy to burn it down

Pressing Questions

They’ve been teasing each other the whole honeymoon… or husbandrry can’t stop himself

Allure

Y/N is a good girl and Harry is a bad man, but they both kinda need each other. Right?… or psycho sugar daddyrry

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I keep seeing so many people here getting angry that this season is "vilifying Ed", and it's depressingly fascinating to see how others can watch the same show and somehow see something completely different. Is it simply the lack of media literacy? Is it the inability to appreciate and enjoy complex, nuanced, morally grey characters without willfully blocking out anything even slightly unpalatable about them to the point where the character they think they love isn't really that character anymore?

Because, uh... Season 1 already "vilified" Ed plenty. Except "vilify" is the wrong word, of course. It wasn't in any way malicious or mean-spirited, quite the contrary, it was often played as comedic (until the end of episode 10 when it was anything but) - Ed was always meant to be a sympathetic character, he's a protagonist after all, and the show's portrayal of him is very compassionate. It merely refused to sugarcoat or shy away from his darker side. He's literally history's most famous pirate, you don't become one by being nice and treating everyone gently. He ambushed and strangled his own father to death when he was like 9 years old (100% deserved and justifiable ofc, but it still bears saying it out loud like this just to comprehend how unhinged this actually was). He loves torturing and maiming people for fun, and sometimes even animals (that scene with forcing a turtle to fight a crab). He didn't give a fuck about his crew members dying to satisfy his whim to meet Stede. He entirely failed in his role as a captain in ep 4. He effectively played a double agent with Izzy and Stede for a while before changing his mind. He attempted to murder Lucius. And while you could try to argue his punishment of Izzy was at least to some degree deserved, not only cutting Izzy's toe off but forcing him to eat went beyond punishment, it was sadistic torture.

So, yeah, please just read all that and take it in. And then remember once again that Ed is also a traumatised, lonely, depressed, sensitive, creative, curious, deeply passionate person yearning for true love and for something different in life... just like Stede. He loves music and can play the piano. He wrote a very vulnerable song and sand his heart out. He likes his tea with seven sugars. He enjoys fashion and dressing up. He has such a limitless sense of wonder for the world. He went on a trek with Stede just to make him happy, even though he hated nature and was in a shit mood that day. He wants to host a talent show. He wants to become free. He's clever and funny and fascinating. I love Ed.

Yes, it's possible to reconcile those two sides of him and accept both sides as the "real" Ed. You have to reconcile the two sides if you want to enjoy him as a character, because if you don't, you're going to either detest him to the core (which would make enjoying the show practically impossible since he's sort of a main character...), or you'll only be able to enjoy a diminished, crippled, cardboard cutout version of his character, which would be such a pity and a massive disservice to the creators of this show who worked hard to create interesting, multidimensional characters.

Not to mention you'd be missing one of the core messages of the show - the idea that people still deserve love and can be loved even if they're imperfect, or not necessarily good people. Because love is a human condition. It's not a sole dominion of "good" people. "Bad" people can fall in love too - even if, just like them, that love isn't exactly "nice" or "pure", and neither are the relationships that stem from it. They can be messy and exasperating. But "bad" people can also grow and change because of it. That's what OFMD is ultimately about - growth and change, learning to accept yourself but also become better. That can't happen if the character is already 100% perfect the way they are.Ed is far from that. So is Izzy. They can both become better, and they both still deserve compassion and understanding, because that's the environment people need to become better.

So, if you're mad that at the start of S2 the crew are sympathetic to Izzy's suffering and want to help him instead of kicking him when he's down, and what Ed did to him is being acknowledged as cruel and wrong... congratulations, you have completely missed what OFMD is all about.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

For @steddie-week July 3: mutual pining

Robin was going crazy, she was going certifiably insane, and she needed her best friend to kindly pull his head out of the proverbial sand and get it the heck together already. She'd been watching over the weeks and months since Eddie's recovery. She had witnessed the drug induced flirting from one high out of his gourd Eddie Munson and the subsequent flustered blush on her platonic soulmate's face who insisted he was just like that with everyone. She'd wanted to bang her head against the sterile white walls during that conversation, because firstly, no the fuck he wasn't. Eddie teased, of course, but to look at Steve Harrington and his drug added mind to supply “Guardian angel, ethereal beauty, my heartbeat, the sun in my sky, moon and stars envy your beauty, love, baby, sweetheart” no, these words were those of a love-struck man. She noticed how Eddie almost shrunk into himself when he saw them again, no longer high, but a fear set in his eyes as though he remembered the sugar sweet words he'd spoken to Steve. She noticed how Steve approached slowly, talking as though nothing happened just telling Eddie how happy he was he was still here. Still alive, still breathing.

She watched as Steve made himself available to always be there, helping Eddie to and from appointments, helping him with home exercises, being in his space and making sure he never went without.

She watched as they both fell ever deeper everyday together, further and further while believing the other couldn't possibly feel the same.

She was here now witnessing just one more instance of this absolutely convoluted mutual pining. Robin sighed and stood up. Both men looking up at her with surprise, she bit her lip for a moment, sighed again, gestured between them, and simply raised an eyebrow.

When neither seemed to respond, she huffed a breath and then started, “Alright. Enough of this. We all know I'm queer, okay? Everyone knows now and accepts me, you both cheerlead me constantly. Eddie,” she turned her eyes to him, “we know there had been rumors, I won't put you or assume anything, but my heart tells me you like Steve, maybe even love him. And Dingus,” she turned back to him, “I know the different expressions you have. There's something you're thinking or feeling for Eddie and I need you, for the love of God, to please tell him already.” She finished and looked back and forth between them again, nodded her head once and walked out the front door of the new Munson residence.

By nightfall her phone was ringing, she picked it up after a moment to hear Stevie on the other end, “Bobbin, thank you. I don't know how to tell you how thankful I am, we talked for hours and, Robbie-bird, he's my boyfriend now!”

“I'm happy for you Dingus. I love you, and I needed to see you both happy. I'm glad I was right, now get some rest and the three of us can go grab lunch tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay Bobby, love you too, goodnight.” He whispered back a smile evident in his voice.

Robin could dance. She was so happy for her friends, now to conquer her own pining heart and speak to Vicky.

[heyimc]

All the memories stay

VADA CAVELL X READER

A.N.: So, this is actually my first time writing something like this, hope you like it and enjoy it. Also, everything will be narrated from Vada's point of view. Warnings: Angst, not a happy ending, possible grammar mistakes (English isn't my first language).

Inspired by the song "Everything Stays" from Adventure Time.

Vada's POV

It’s crazy how someone can change your life with just one smile…one smile, that’s all it takes to make someone feel safe, for me that person was Y/N.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ It was the first day of classes, during break time in the cafeteria. - Hi! Can I sit here? - She approached me with a vibrant and charming way of being, I was confused about it, no one really paid me that much mind or ever asked me that, my only friend has ever been my buddy Nick, who sadly couldn’t be here at the moment cause he was with on a vacations trip with his family for another two days.

- Ah…sure? - I was shocked by it, probably my face showed even more than my actual voice cause she just laughed and sat at the table, right in front of me. That gave me a chance to look at her more directly, but before I could even form an idea about the type of girl she might be, she spoke again.

- My name is Y/N, I’m new so I’ve just been trying to check out the place and find someone interesting to talk to, I also like your shirt. - 

- I’m Vada - I said, and she smiled.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

That was the first time she talked to me, and suddenly a conversation started, she was nice…made me laugh, and intrigued me at the same time, but soon things started going in another direction.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

- Okay, so here is the question, would you rather be with someone who looks like your friend’s mom or someone that has the same age as her? - It was a Friday, a casual day after classes letting the weekend soon start and take us away for rest after a long week of exams. Y/N, Nick, and I were just at the beach with some slushies from 7/11 and doing dumb stuff as we normally did.

- Why do all your questions always have to do with moms? Is this your way of telling me you like mine? - Nick joked around and Y/N laughed at it, those were the moments I truly loved, cause we were just being teenagers, having fun, and enjoying our time together.

- Who wouldn’t? - Said then Y/N and Nick hit her in the arm soon after finishing her sentence - Hey! Hey! I’m joking! - We all laughed and she then spoke again - Hmm, well…I think I will go for someone who is the same age as her. I mean, what if one day she sees my girlfriend and then finds out that it actually is her long-lost daughter who wanted to get closer to her so she used me instead? Plus, older women are way hot and mature. 

- Yeah, cause an adult woman would sure put her eyes on someone so immature and crazy as you - I said with sarcasm and she then smiled back at me.

- Hey! I think I am very charming and would totally be able to get with an older woman - She tried to defend herself.

- If you end up doing that, do you think you could find me a sugar daddy? Gotta take care of my hair and good looks.

We all soon started laughing at Nick’s remark and continued with our hangout at the beach. But after many hours in the sun and the breeze of the ocean waves hitting the sand, we left the place and went to our houses. I was going to spend the night at Y/N cause we planned to continue a Netflix series we started watching some days ago, so it was the perfect plan to stay up all night. With the time passing and the dark being a witness of it, something else happened, something changed between us two, I could feel it and I know that she did too on that day.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

The days went like normal, but we weren’t the same anymore, our relationship changed, and we started growing closer and closer with each interaction, Nick noticed, my family noticed, Y/N did too, and one day…

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

- Pss, Vada… - She called me from behind, Y/N always sat behind me since the classes started and made sure to stay like that, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, I was falling for her, how could I not? Funny, smart, pretty…such an idiot but that’s what made her so intriguing, she was herself and didn’t try to hide it, she always made sure to show me how she was, how honest and real her presence and she was, she always knew how to make me smile and reassure me…she knew how. - I was wondering if you well, would like to go to our spot at the beach later? - The look on her face was weird, nervous it was, but I didn’t know at the time what it was.

- Sure, let me send Nick a text - I responded but the reaction she gave me said something else to me - Or…you don’t want me to? 

- I thought it could be just between us two? Want to tell you something important - And she smiled, like she always did, I wish things could have been different then.

- You can tell me now - I said, almost too quick to respond, to change things, make a move, and be brave for once, but she looked at me confused.

- Vada…you know how this is supposed to go, I’m not here anymore. You can’t change the story.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

But I wanted to, I wanted to be able to stop it from happening, if I could have done something else if I didn´t receive that text if I could have just been there for her even though she told me to go, why did I leave her alone? Why, why, why, why, why…

…

- Vada, are you still with me? - I snapped and looked around me, I was with the psychologist.

- Yeah…I’m sorry, where was I? - My mind was blank and my emotions were like a river flowing by, I knew the answer but my mouth didn’t want to move again, I didn’t want to end the story.

- You were telling me about Y/N, and how her death affected you - She said and pushed me to keep going, I knew things wouldn’t get better if I didn’t do this, but it would also hurt if I did.

- That day…I was ready to confess to her, but the shooting took place and I was in the bathroom, I tried to go and look out for her but then Mia and Quinton were there too so we stayed, the last thing I remember was my hands covered in her blood, she tried to go look out for me and got shot in the end, I can’t stop thinking about it if she could have just waited and didn’t worry about me, or if I didn’t stay in the bathroom or chatted with Mia in a first place, maybe…just maybe, she could still be here, I could hear her voice, her laugh, see her smile and how we just had fun like how we were supposed to be doing during those days, maybe I would have even told her how much I loved her…that I still do…I still do…

My voice broke, I didn’t want the reminder of her to be erased by the actions of someone that was too far gone to take away so many lives…including her - I know…I know that I can’t change the past, but I just…I…I guess all that is left is just the reminders of her life, all the memories stay but she didn’t do the same.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

All Dressed Up - Capt. Syverson x Reader

A/N: based on a thought I had while watching Sand Castle earlier and a discussion with @nouis-bum from a couple of days ago. I couldn't help myself, sorry. Also, we decided for the purpose of my writing, his name's Luke.

pairing: Capt. Syverson x fem!reader

warnings/content: oral (m & f receiving), no use of y/n, no real mention of reader's features other than long hair.

word count: 1.8k

“Honey, have you seen my blue shirt?” Luke Syverson called out to his wife, his icy-blue eyes squinting as he tried to think of where his dress shirt could be. He was sure he’d checked every laundry basket, every drawer in the dresser, and both sides of the closet. He bounded down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing through the house as he headed for the laundry room. His brows knit together as he thought about any stone he may have left unturned in his search. He didn’t dress up often - in fact, the missing dress shirt in question was his only dress shirt. He had always gotten by with an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans when he went out, which wasn’t a regular occurrence until you’d entered his life a few years ago. 

Slowly, you’d begun to introduce new things into his closet, replacing his tattered old Houston Texans jersey was the first step - he’d kept the old one, of course, for nostalgic purposes, but it hardly fit, and the deep navy blue fabric had gained a few holes here and there over the years. The new one had been a birthday gift from you that first year you were together, and he treasured it. The dress shirt was introduced the second Christmas the two of you were together. You had a work Christmas party and he was home from his latest tour for a 6 month break until the next one came around. He’d never met any of your co-workers before, and wanting to make a good impression and keep you happy, he’d reluctantly agreed to go shopping with you to pick out something better suited to wear than a tattered cotton graphic tee he’d had for at least a decade, and a well-worn, faded pair of jeans. 

As he squatted down in front of the dryer, opening the door to look at the contents inside to see if his shirt was somewhere in amongst the clean laundry waiting to be folded, he heard footsteps come up behind him, followed by a wolf whistle. He smirked to himself, closing the dryer door after yet another unsuccessful search. He stood upright, his full 6-foot-something frame straightening up as he turned to face you. His bulking muscular figure was still toned from the years of military service he’d just retired from, although now, he stood a little more solidly, having grown accustomed to more than just black coffee and shitty food while he was away. His arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging as he stood before her. His wife stood in front of him, batting her eyelashes as she donned his blue button up shirt, sitting oversized on her, drooping off her shoulders as grinned at him. His eyes scanned over her, taking in the sight before him. His lips curled up into a smirk, framed by his thick, curly, dark beard, the chestnut coloured hairs recently trimmed to look less wild than they usually did. He noticed that the shirt stopped just above her knee, and it didn’t take more than a split second to realize that the shirt was the only article of clothing she was wearing at the time. 

“Now, darlin’, why exactly have ya got my shirt on?” His voice carried a teasing tone to it as he spoke, the smirk on his face remaining unchanged as his piercing blue eyes continued to gawk at her. 

“Thought it made for a kinda cute shirt dress, don’t you?” She teased, twirling a long strand of hair around her index finger, “Besides, kinda fun watchin’ you run around half naked lookin’ for it.”

“Sugar, don’t get me wrong, it looks great on ya, but I can’t exactly go out for dinner lookin’ like this,” Luke gestured to his naked torso, his hand stopping just above the waist of his dark-washed jeans.

“Fine, but, before I take it off,” She began, her lips curving into a devilish grin as she dragged her fingers lazily over his skin, gently raking through the brown curls that adorned his chest, “I want to make you feel good first.”

“Darlin’, you’re killin’ me here,” He shook his head, laughing as he looked down at her. 

Luke watched as she gently pressed her lips to his collarbone before slowly slinking down to her knees before him. He took his belt in his hand, undoing the metal buckle and sliding the long leather material through the belt loops around his waist. He dropped it to the ground, the sound of the buckle clattering against the hardwood flooring echoing through the room. 

He undid the button on his jeans with urgency, dragging them down just enough to allow his wife the space she’d need to pleasure him. She yanked the elastic waistband of his boxers down with a smirk, his hardened cock springing back as she freed it from its cotton restraints. She pressed her lips to it, leaving a tauntingly delicate kiss to the sensitive, red tip, her hand firmly gripping the base. She licked a long, wet stripe up the underside of his length, beginning at the base and ending in a swirling motion around the tip, giving him a doe-eyed gaze as she looked up at him, watching for his reaction. He tilted his head back, letting out a deep, low growling moan before turning his head back to look down at her, grunting her name as she guided his member past her lips, creating suction on the tip with her mouth. 

She began bobbing her head along his length, her cheeks hollowing as she pushed his erection further into her mouth, saliva beginning to drip down it as she took more of his length past her lips. She pulled her mouth back off his cock with a loud popping noise, smirking up at him as he grunted upon the loss of contact. 

“Fucking Christ, babygirl, you’re killin’ me here,” Luke rasped, shaking his head as he looked down at her.

Luke grabbed a handful of her hair, gripping it as he guided her mouth back onto him, pushing her further down his erection and guiding her back off it at a rhythmic pace, building in speed as she went. Luke was struggling to keep himself composed as she continued working his orgasm out of him with her mouth. Her eyes began to water as his tip brushed the back of her throat and the moment his sensitive cap made contact, he felt his knees buckle, swallowing hard as he tried to hold off his orgasm as long as he could. Her gaze never left his face as he tossed his head back, her name falling from his lips like a prayer as thick, warm ropes of cum shot down her throat. His eyes shut for a brief moment, completely lost in his own pleasure. He looked down at her, watching as she slowly backed herself off of him, dragging her tongue lazily against his underside as she did so. 

“Darlin’, I think it’s only fair I return the favour for ya now,” He gave her a mischievous smirk as he offered his hand out to her, helping her stand to her feet. 

Luke gripped her hips and hoisted her up onto the metal top of the dryer, grinning at her as he took his turn kneeling on the floor. He pulled her forwards by her hips. He tapped the inside of her thigh with his hand, indicating to her that she needed to spread her legs to allow him to fit between them. His blue eyes watched her as he dragged two thick fingers along her wet folds, his voice in a low hum as he spoke, amused at how aroused she was. Luke used his fingers to part her lips gently, letting out a deep exhale as he stared at her, taking in the sight before him.

“Look at you, darlin’, pussy all wet for me, just waitin’ for me to take care a’ya, hmm?” he cooed as he watched her part her lips, allowing a soft moan to escape from her mouth.

“Luke, please, baby,” she mewled, whimpering as he circled the pad of his fingertip against her swollen clit. 

The sound of her whimpering, soft moans were music to Luke’s ears, and he wasted no time in pressing his lips to her sensitive bud, lapping his tongue against it, tasting her sweet arousal as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thigh. He dipped two of his fingers into her now dripping core, lazily fucking them into her as he sucked on her nub, waiting for her to beg him to give her more. 

“Luke, fucking hell, stop fucking teasing me, please?” She whined, her voice raising in pitch as she let out another whimper.

Luke pumped his fingers into her faster, pressing into her soft spot as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, his bright blue eyes never leaving once leaving her face as he watched, feeling himself become more aroused by seeing her face contort and hearing her vocalize her pleasure. He felt her leg tremble under his free hand, and he continued to fuck her with his fingers, pulling his mouth off of her clit just enough for her to hear him speak.

“Soak my fingers for me, sugar,” He husked, watching as he continued to thrust them into her wet folds, an animalistic grunt escaping his lips as he felt her clenching around him.

She tossed her head back as her arousal coated him, a loud, passionate scream of his name echoing through the air as she climaxed. Luke pulled his fingers out, licking them clean before ducking back between her thighs, delving his tongue inbetween her folds to clean up the mess he’d made of her. Once finished, he pulled back his head, sitting back on his feet for a moment as he grinned up at her, his bearded chin glistening with her arousal as he looked at her. 

“Now, sweetness, you’re gonna have to take my shirt off of ya now, or else we’re never gonna make it to dinner. They might notice us being missing.” He smirked, shaking his head as he stood up.

Luke reached his hands out to grab her by the hips, nodding as he helped her down off of the dryer. He cocked an eyebrow up at her, watching as she slowly undid the buttons of the shirt before shrugging the blue material back off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as she exposed her bare skin to him. Unable to control his impulsive urges, Luke grabbed her by the waist, gripping her body tightly as he pulled her in against his frame. 

“Well…maybe we can be a few minutes late?” 

[drewsbuzzcut]

Deeper Than Oceans You Run, Watch As Our World Has Begun

Nick Moldenhauer x Dallas Blankenburg Moldenhauer

A so it goes blurb

Warnings: some insecurities and slight angst

Takes places during their honeymoon this summer

The full moon reflects on the darkened waves that lap at the couple. Nick and Dallas cling to each other, limbs tangled up in a perfect mess as they float.

Today marks one week into their blissful honeymoon. They’ve been having boozy, blistering fun on the white sand beaches in Tulum. They love being in love and being happy. There have been many endless kisses and bone chilling touches. Albeit the overwhelming rapture, Dallas can tell something’s wrong with Nick. Her husband has a faint furrow between his eyebrows and the corners of his lips don’t fully rise with his smile. Any other person wouldn’t even notice, but Nick is Dallas’ favorite worn in book. She can notice the slightest difference in anything he does.

“What’s wrong? You seemed down all day,” the girl pulls herself tighter into his chest and slides a hand into his curls.

“Just thinking a little too much,” Nick whispers, not able to meet her eyes.

“About what?” She asks, tilting his head up so he can look at her.

“Um… just about my future. In the nhl. I just- I don't know,” he mumbles and turns away despite his wife trying to keep his eyes on hers.

“Nicky, it’s all going to be okay,” she tries to reassure him.

“What if it’s not? What if I fail miserably, or what if I can’t be the player that I want to be?” Nick exasperates, eyes wide and his unshed tears glimmering in the moonlight. His voice is shaky and his chest is starting to heave.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. You’re a good hockey player and you never give up. You’re so committed to bettering yourself and that’s all that matters. Even if you do fail, I will be by your side, so unbelievably proud of you. I know you’re not going to fail, though. You’re Nick Moldenhauer, someone who has gone through a lot so early in their hockey career. You’ve had a lot of odds against you, but you’re here playing hockey for umich. You’re drafted and you’re going to be amazing,” she hums and wipes away the tear on his cheek.

“I just want to be able to take care of you, us, and our future family,” Nick admits, letting out a sigh when she nuzzles her nose into his cheek. Dallas softly traced over the scar on his jaw before pressing a soft kiss onto the raised skin. The girl feels a fluttery feeling grow in her heart at the thought of their future family.

“And you will be able to. If not, then I have no problem being your sugar mommy,” the girl jokes, trying to get a smile out of her husband.

“You’re my everything and the last person I want to let down,” he chokes out with a quivering lip. His words are pained, easily making her heart crack.

“You could never. I love you so much, Nicky,” she reassures him once again.

Dallas loops her arms around his shoulders and squeezes him tightly to her body. Heat builds where their soft skin touches, consoling Nick.

“I love you, June bug. I’m happy you’re my wife. It’s you and it’ll always be you,” he affirms and leans down to capture her lips in a kiss.

Dallas cups his cheeks, her legs wrapping around his waist as she gets lost in his lips. His tongue gently prods her lips open and explores her mouth as if it’s his first time. She loves that every time they kiss, it feels like the very first time. She gets filled with excitement, and she can feel it blossom in Nick with the way his fingers press into her skin.

“Want to help me tick something off of my bucket list?” Dallas asks, lips moving over his.

Her husband pulls away, watching her facial features and seeing the smirk that she can’t bother hiding.

“What is that?”

“Sex on the beach,” she rasps in his ear.

Nick doesn’t respond, he just pulls Dallas over his shoulder and carries her to shore. He can’t wait to see her fall apart under the stars and moon.