#im gonna post this and log off

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men. 

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option. 

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He’ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

[loonsloon]

@rosekillermicrofic december 3 -sparkle, snow- words: 330 cw: MCD

Barty never really cared for winter that much. Not that he preferred it to summer—it just didn’t matter to him when one season blurred into the next. When it came to spring, it's flowers didn’t catch his attention; he thought they looked dull compared to Evan, especially when Pandora weaved them into Evan’s hair. Evan’s rosy cheeks were brighter than any bloom could ever be.

Summer wasn’t much different. The only time it brought him joy was that one year when Evan and him went swimming. That was when Barty realized Evan’s blue eyes were far more endless than the reflection and sparkle of the sky on the rising waves. Fall didn’t mean much to him either. But there was that day when Evan lay in a bed of fallen leaves, laughing at something Barty had said. In that moment, Barty decided no shade of amber or crimson could ever match the warmth and beauty of Evan’s laughter.

So, if you’d asked Barty back then whether he cared about the seasons, he would have told you no. What he cared about was Evan—and how everything else seemed lifeless next to him. To Barty, Evan was ethereal. His cheeks were spring, a field of warm, vibrant flowers. His eyes were summer, deep and boundless like the ocean. His laugh was fall, carefree and light as the swirling leaves.

But now it was winter. And oh, how Barty hated winter.

Back then, he would’ve told you no amount of snow could dull Evan’s glow. But this year, winter had turned against him. Because now, lying there in the snow, was his Evan.

Evan wasn’t blushing anymore. His blue eyes no longer sparkled, and his laughter was silent. The snow was melting, and with it, it seemed to take Evan too—draining his warmth, his color, until his complexion was almost as pale as the frost surrounding him.

Barty hated winter. Because winter had stolen Evan’s colors, leaving only the cold behind.

[inadeqcies]

○    NOW DELIVERING TO . . .    ⏤ @ofvolatile !

" i know you . " ricardo says , as way of greeting . his eyes are slits as he eyes the man before him in apprehension . there is a familiarity there . it isn't until ricardo sees the long scar across the man's neck that a slow smirk infiltrates his face . " right wing ice hockey player for canucks bleeds out on ice rink . " ricardo remembers the headline like it was yesterday . " pretty sure people had bets on you dying . " ricardo doesn't believe in miracles but it is mighty impressive that this man somehow lived . ricardo's eyes flicker over the puckered scar again then at the man . his smile doesn't meet his eyes or let up . " you kinda became a nothing after that , huh ? "

[mellohiizz]

are you doing okay? you've been getting a lot of asks lately lol. plz remember to eat snack, and that its okay to delete asks that you don't want to answer (including this one lol)

leilanising <3

hiii yeah, sorry, i'm taking a little bit of a break for my own mental health at the moment and i barely open tumblr anyway right now. just poppin up to let ppl know i'm okay since i've been getting asked this by a couple of people in my inbox too lol. i have some irl things i need to figure out how to deal with, but i'm mostly okay.

[cartoonrival]

round of applause for b2(wnb) and for giving naruto a mullet

[leofrith]

oh the depression is fucking baaaad lmao

[axemetaphor]

sometimes dave wonders if john has a deathwish

[lq-skz]

quick but important housekeeping

i've had to bring the queue down to 12 posts per day versus the 24 per day

new content may take longer to put out due to my busier schedule for the upcoming holiday season and simply bc my computer is over a decade old and i've been pushing it really bad as of late

i will at least finish the rolling stone uk reels especially bc there's only one more left !

(will be removing over 100gb of things on here within the next two weeks so that should help improve its performance?)

while the blog is not dying, it will probably just slow down over the next two months!

i genuinely love running this blog but trying to take screenshots of a video not even eight minutes long shouldn't take me over an hour to do :( BUT this blog will live ! just possibly a bit slower!

you're more than welcome to send an ask or a dm about anything bc i will still be active on tumblr!

if any of you want to follow me on my main or talk over there instead it's @keroinnie !

or if ur a twitter person y'all can hit me up over there via keroppang!

tldr; blog is not ending i'm just busy and my computer is dying and the queue is now 12 per day!

thank you i love you all <3

[microwavestim]

im back yay

[cherry-pop-soda]

i literally logged onto tumblr. reblogged like three things. saw that last post. and now i’m logging back out bc no fucking thank you

[gayratgrave]

People who hate labels can be more annoying than those who actively use them

Like YEAH human experience is complicated but to be alt you JUST need to listen to alt music and be a leftist (the further left the better) THAT'S IIIIT OMGGGGGG UGGGHHHH

Its all abt aesthetics with some mfs if you don't want to put shit ton of make up and just wear a bright red shirt with a fucking idk yellow pants and listen to post punk and a lefty CONGRATS YOU ARE A GOTH!! 👏👏👏

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day One

HANDJOBS / TEMPERATURE PLAY / BREAST WORSHIP (@absurdthirst)

Starring: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Summary: When you decide to tag along with Francisco, his idea of a regular fishing trip changes when you take advantage of the quiet surroundings.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No use of Y/N, drinking/alcohol, swimming in open water, language, alludes to struggling to swim/drowning (reader just panics, it doesn’t occur), handjob.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Notes: Hello, I’m back for another Kinktober! Just to let you know, these may be a little sporadic, I’ve struggled to get into the writing mood this year but I’ll deliver what I can. Also I couldn’t make my mind up on a list so I’ll be flicking between two prompt lists, anyway, enjoy 😘

Frankie always did these trips on his lonesome.

He’d rent a little cabin tucked away in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by vast lakes, and drive miles to get there. It was an escape from the hustle and bustle of trying to get by, allowed him peace of mind from all the shit that was going on and most importantly, it took him away from his vices.

He didn’t mind his own company but when you offered, he couldn’t say no.

“Are you sure? It might get a little boring.”

You saw the tips of his ears turn pink as he nervously played with the peak of his cap.

After everything he’d been through, getting busted, losing his pilot license and that trip with the boys he won’t say anything about, you thought he could use the company. You were sure he was using the term boring to deter you from going.

It was the fourth day and, unbeknown to him, you were indeed getting a little bored.

When you first met Frankie, you though his nickname had come from the fact that, occasionally, he’d look at you with his big brown eyes and his plump lips parted, decorated with patchy whiskers. Part of that was true, it also turns out, the man loves to fish.

He did pretty well on the first couple of days, cooking his catches for breakfast, lunch and dinner but today, he wasn’t having so much luck.

You had taken the trip as an opportunity to switch off as much as you could, the lack of signal in every location a godsend. You hadn’t checked your emails since the moment you got to the cabin, hadn’t looked at the screen to see your notifications and even though you’d taken photographs, you hadn’t posted them online.

When you got ready in the morning, you dressed in the loosest pieces you had, did the shortest skin care routine possible and left with no makeup. You mostly read on the blanket and cushions next to Frankie’s fold away stool, every now and again going for a walk in the wilderness, inhaling the fresh air deeply.

He sighed exasperated and your ears caught the whir of the fishing line.

“Nothing biting?”

He grunted.

Peeking up from the pages of your book, you could see the curls flicking from underneath his battered old cap, his wide shoulders hunched. He looked so broad on that tiny stool he perched on, his legs spread out for him to be comfortable.

You blink as you come back to where you are.

“Why don’t you take a break?”

The stones on the bank crunched under his hiking boots as he stood up, heading to the one cooler to pull out a beer. He instinctively grabs two and joins you on the blanket, pulling the tabs of the can before holding one out to you.

“Thanks,” you say as you push yourself off your front.

Once you sit with your ass firmly to a cushion, you take it from him, your fingers brushing his. You feel the heat come to your cheeks so you turn your head back to the lake as you take a sip.

“What you reading?”

He lifts his chin to your discarded book.

“Just a romance novel.”

His brows furrow, “It’s not one of those smutty ones, is it?”

You were on fire.

“Maybe,” the word squeaks.

“Can’t be better than the real thing though, can it?”

“I dunno,” you look at him as he leans back and admires the view. “Sometimes.”

He chuckles, “You’re sleeping with the wrong people, hermano.”

It was in your best interest to change the subject before you said anything stupid.

You didn’t know whether Frankie felt the same about you as you did him. When you met, you were immediately drawn to his big brown eyes and his laugh could bounce off the walls. His shyness melted away the more he got to know you, he was witty, unreserved. Sure, there were moments where the quietness returned, moments like this but it was comfortable.

“D’you think I could go for a swim?”

He shrugged, “Probably.”

As he drove the truck in, he didn’t see any signs to say you couldn’t, the pair of you hadn’t seen another human being in hours.

Hauling yourself up, you pull the tie of your drawstring trousers, kicking off your shoes.

“You bring a swimsuit?”

“Nope.”

You shrugged off your cardigan and let it fall to a puddle at your feet. Hooking your thumbs under the waistline of your trousers, you shove the fabric past your hips and abandon them with the rest of your clothes.

Frankie couldn’t help sneaking a look.

The knickers you wore were simple but the elastic followed the curve of your ass perfectly, the high cut elevating the length of your legs. He swallowed, cursing himself, he shouldn’t have looked.

You don’t even notice but he repositions himself in case you do.

Keeping on your baby tee, you tread carefully towards the water’s edge.

“It’s gonna be cold,” he calls.

You already gathered that as the chill hit your toes and sent a shiver all the way through your body. Taking a breath, you took another step and then another before you squealed as you went deeper into the water.

He laughed as he does, chest shaking as his smile broadens to show his teeth.

“How is it?”

Once the initial cold had sunk into your skin, it was quite refreshing. The water was crisp and clear, as you waded through the lake floor darkened into a deep turquoise.

“You should join me.”

“No thanks,” he drinks his beer. “Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t.”

You paddled around for a while longer, coming close to the edge before you flip onto your back and float aimlessly.

Frankie kept his eye on you, watched as your body drifted back and forth, the smile constant on his lips. Your book pages danced in front of him as a light breeze whistled over the lake, the leaves on the trees rustling softly.

It called to him.

Picking it up, he looked at the cover first. Pictured was a woman dressed in white with notable pointed ears and a fangs, behind was a wolf against a night sky. The opening line of the blurb suggested a ‘dangerous alliance’ and a ‘new paranormal romance’ and in all honesty, he didn’t expect it from you. He put down his beer, choosing to read the first few lines to see all the fuss was about.

He guessed you were enjoying yourself and you were.

You had started to swim again, having drifted further out than you expected, hoping you could get back to the bank without Frankie realising. He had his head in your book anyway. The water rippled gently as you kept your limbs under the surface, head held high. You continued to ignore the odd tickle, believing you were just going through some weeds. It wasn’t until something definitely brushed your shin and you caught the silhouette as it swam away. 

Your scream made him jump.

“You alright?”

He glances over the book, you’re a little far out than he’d like.

“Something touched my leg,” you cry.

You position yourself upright, swirling your arms to keep steady as you breathe, attempting to calm your pounding heart. After a few moments, you carry on swimming however the fear had entered your system.

The instant another unknown thing touch your skin, you panicked.

“Frankie… Frankie, help me!”

“Shit.”

He was up on his feet with the first call of his name, hearing the urgency in your tone. Throwing the book down, he hurries to the bank and scrambles to get his shoes off.

You’re floundering, your mind not processing what it needed to remain afloat. The lake bed was a fraction too deep for you to plant your feet and have your head above the surface and all you could think about was the mysterious creature taking you under like how the sirens did the sailors.

“Querida, kick your feet.”

You whimper as you follow his instruction, his voice alarmingly cool. His hands come to your wrists to stop you from thrashing, the gentle squeeze causing your eyes to open.

“Just breathe, I got you.”

He breathes with you, drawing your frame closer to his. Your hands reach for his shoulders and he allows you to place your palms on his bare skin. He delivers the faintest of nods as he lets go, spreading his arms out so he can keep the both of you floating.

You press your body to his, wrapping your arms around his neck.

When your feet finally find the floor, you still hug yourself to his side and he only lets go of you to grab the blanket. You pick one of the discarded cushions and sit down as he throws it over your shoulders, wandering back to pick up his clothes and boots.

No longer distracted by your impending danger, you realise Frankie had stripped down to his briefs. The sodden fabric clung to every muscle, outlining the curve of his butt cheeks and you couldn’t take your eyes off him, fully aware that he was turning around.

And even he couldn’t hide that cock.

You swallowed thickly as the saliva built in your mouth, your desire present between your legs as he approached you. Shrugging the blanket off your shoulder, you offer him a space next to you, you wouldn’t allow him to freeze on account of your stupidity.

He plucked his cap from the ground before huddling near, your thighs touching only turning you on more.

Neither of you spoke.

The goosebumps arrived all over your skin, your nipples visibly pert under your wet tee and you were trying to decipher whether it was the cold or something else. His arm slips behind your back, a hand coming to your waist as he pulls you close and tightens the blanket around your forms.

He starts to rub his hand up and down to build the warmth between you. Your head drops to his shoulder and you close your eyes, focusing on the smallest details. His callous fingertips as the follow your outline, his heartbeat slowing to it’s normal pace, his breath dancing over your hair.

Then you do something stupider.

Frankie froze when your hand landed softly on his inner thigh.

His breath hitched as you stroked your thumb until his initial surprise faded, he sighed.

You carried on up his leg, your pinkie finger grazing the edge of his brief that clung to his muscle.

Part of him knew he should stop you, that maybe this was just adrenaline coursing through your veins but he’d wanted this for so long. He could never find the to speak his truth, the two of you got on like a house on fire and he was worried that if he admitted it, the walls would come crumbling down.

Instead, he found his free hand enveloping yours.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pausing as you think of your words carefully. “Can I —“

“Please,” he says breathily.

You giggle excitably as you climb over and come to your knees between his legs. Slipping a hand into his briefs, you cup his heavy balls before kneading them gently.

He releases an audible exhale, adjusting the blanket so it came over your shoulders and hid his dignity. His eyes flitted around your surroundings, military instincts scoping out the area because it would be his luck for someone to interrupt this.

The coast is clear and he relaxes, leaning back on his hands.

You roll his balls a few more times before extending your index finger, teasing the base of his cock. It twitched, stiffening further at the pleasure of finally receiving someone else touch. You let go, both hands wrapping around the waist and tug them to unleash his length.

The tips of his ear begin to burn and he drops his head to hide his blushing cheeks, his cap covering his face, the Standard Oil logo flashing at you.

You don’t mind, continuing to explore what was in front of you.

You draw a single finger up his shaft, feeling every groove, every vein until you reached the tip. There was already a bead of precum weeping, you scoop it with your thumb and spread the hot liquid over the head.

He juddered.

“Is this ok?”

Your thumb still circles his flushing tip.

“Uh-huh.”

You smile to yourself, hearing the roughness in his tone. Leaning forward, you push a string of spit from your mouth and let it dribble over his cock, a gratifying hum rumbling up from his chest.

Wrapping your hand around his girth, you slowly start to pump your hand.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans.

He meets your eyes as his head comes up for air. After seeing the blown irises, you see his gaze drop from your face to your breasts and though they’re covered, he can see the faintest jiggle as your movements quicken.

Transfixed, he doesn’t see your hand twist, your delicate fingers tightening around him.

The sound he makes is something mixed with laughter and annoyance. He could easily cum in your hand right now yet he’d waited so fucking long, he was going to edge no matter what trick you pulled. Even it that was the fingertips of your free hand tickling at his balls before your palm grabbed him roughly.

You had no idea what he just said as he slurred a profanity in his second language.

He couldn’t stay mad at you, not when you batted your eyelashes and smiled innocently. The contortion on his face loosened yet the knot in his brows remained.

His muscles grew tense as you worked him, his volume only increasing.

Releasing his balls, you placed your hand underneath the other, halting your movements with one firm squeeze. He whined, his hips trying to pry his cock from your hands, he didn’t want this to end but the knot was straining in his stomach.

You gave a few leisurely strokes before pumping him hard.

His chin fell to his chest as he panted, his stomach caving inward before he came with an extended groan. His hot seed spread over your hands as you worked him more and more to gain every drop, droplets spreading into his pubes and across his navel.

He didn’t have the strength to lift his head.

You looked at your hands, the cum coating the skin, your fingers sticking together. Your tongue flicks over your lips as you fail to resist trying a taste. Sticking an entire index finger in your mouth, you roll your tongue and his sharp flavour soaks into your tastebuds.

Eyes are on you.

You meet his bashful expression, blinking at him as you release your finger with a pop.

“You gonna finish that?”

You giggle, “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat it all by myself.”

He gives a hearty laugh before he shows signs of concern.

“We should get you back before you catch a cold.”

“I’ll clean myself up.”

You rise and let the blanket fall onto his lap.

Frankie hated to see his cum get washed away but that called for better, warmer circumstances. He watched as you squatted at the water’s edge and swilled your hands, shivering as you stood back up.

“Come and change your shirt.”

You race over and tuck your frame under the blanket. Bracing yourself, you peel of the damp fabric and toss it to the side. The goosebumps spread over your bare body quickly, your nipples getting harder but he’s already guiding your head into his own t-shirt. He helps you get your arms through the holes before leaning back to admire you.

“It suits you,” he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Thanks.”

He lifted his legs and fought to get his briefs off, reaching for his cargo pants. Worming his way into them, he jumped up to button them up, hiding any evidence of what just occurred. He offered a hand to you.

And you knew when you took it, this whole trip was going to get even more interesting.

[agentemo]

there is a not insignificant chance that i was gonna fly my ass to London to see Paramore open for Taylor Swift but maybe instead I'm going to WWWY 2024 idk idk

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Ended up vomiting a couple of times at work this morning for unknown reasons (tho tbh I suspect exhaustion. I'm eating better but I'm absolutely not getting enough/consistent sleep) and the senior on shift managed to cover for me (honestly kind of a nice experience, having both her and the temp agency staff expressing genuine sympathy and concern lol. Fucked up that I don't expect that in a work environment, the temp especially was lovely and went out of her way to reassure me leaving was the responsible move)

Anyway I actually had a lovely morning in spite of that. JC was bubbly as anything (Alfie was working next door last night so came in to say hi and he lit up, immidiately demanded a hug and got them to sit with him for a bit, and was the absolute sweetest with me too ("oh, be good to Maaaac! :D")

And I had...maybe the first positive experience with SF thst I am making damn sure I remember. He had just woken up and was gettingna bit excitable so I sat with him and started singing This Little Piggy bc it was the first nursery rhyme that came to mind. And he immidiately stopped what he was doing, beamed at me, and after I'd done it once he started singing it along with me! He's somewhat verbal but typically only single words. I'm so relieved I got to actually see the sweet lil kid that's going through it bc it's so easy for me to get lost mirroring his stress

[coolspacequips]

Here's something crazy... Still haven't watched Bridgerton s3, but seeing everyone fawn over the kanthony cameos, and then now having moved on to just fawning over iconic kanthony scenes apparently in response to it, has got me like sdkfa;sdfkadsk ABOUT TO REWATCH S2.....!!! AGAIN....!!!!

I saw the Dancing On My Own first dance scene on my timeline like 3x today and I'm foaming at the mouth, have been thinking about them all day LMAO

[sneefsnorf]

i have no idea what im doing on twitter im just following artists and reblogging their work to my page