#now it’s like picture perfect solid and like a snake

[ryasanda]

bro my probiotics are working my shits are finally normal!!!! i really thought i had ibs lmao

[tadpolesonalgae]

The Burn Marks of Possession

Dark!Azriel x reader

a/n: heads up, reader’s slightly obsessive, and Az is slightly on the dark side. Not as dark as usual but better safe than sorry with things like this :) I also haven’t written in a while so this is a vague practice attempt at getting back into things 🫠

warnings: kind of dark!azriel, smut, arguably dubcon due to reader’s mental state, sadism, overstim, light breeding kink, implied somnophilia

Word count: 3,407

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s perplexing, when it begins shifting. Building again after years of managing to be suppressed. Coming to a simmer, gently bubbling while it remains constrained.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips, secondary to the unhelpful tremor in the tips of your fingers, shaking your knuckles. The boiling water spills over the lip of the cup, dripping over your thumb, and you wonder if it burns the same.

You remain quiet, reaching for the hand towel to dry the liquid, before putting it away again, stirring the cup absently as the metal begins heating, steam warming then stinging at your fingers.

Azriel

How your jaw clenches at the first syllable of his name, teeth grinding as if with frustration. How your tongue caresses the backs of your teeth upon the second, grazing the inside slope of the roof of your mouth. A slow trace of a feather-light touch, as if to soothe rise of tension.

Azriel

Azriel

Azriel

If you repeat it enough, you can remove the stress of his first part, softening the pronunciation until it’s no more than swallowing a light touch. A suggested whisper as it drips from your tongue.

A snake would say it better. With a friendly flicker in between, rolling the letters from its serpentine mouth. You wonder where he is.

It’s easy to picture him in your kitchen, lazing at the coffee table, sprawled across a chair, while watching you with slitted pupils, the corners of his mouth too sharp for a smile.

Tension in your body abates, muscles loosening as that familiar spread of warmth courses down your arms, easing in your chest—like inebriation has just been pushed into your bloodstream, feeling woozy and soft, lips curving a little. Fingers slide through the roughened handle of your mug absently, allowing the steam to rise and brush your mouth, the tip of your nose, feeling how his shadows do whenever they brush against your skin.

You feel cold and clammy as you lower it. Already missing its heat.

The sun has long since been swallowed by the night, removed from the sky to allow reprieve to morality. Nobody can always be perfect—it’s good to have moments to relax. When secrets can be committed.

The latch of your front door clicks, and you smile, taking another drink from your cup, settling back into its boiling heat as the liquid scalds your throat on the way down, swiftly spreading throughout your body, heating your fingertips.

“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have made another cup,” you murmur slowly, eyes closed as you listen to his approach. The almost inaudible rasp of shadow, the whisper of feet over carpet. Roughened hands slide softly around your ribs, solid muscle gathering at your back, gently bringing himself into you. Tucking you beneath his chin as shadows swirl and circle peacefully.

“You knew I was coming,” he replies lowly, feeling the slope of your shoulders, how your body becomes smaller as breath leaves your lips, exhaled from your lungs.

You’re glad he’s here again, reassured of his presence. You spend so much time together that the hours apart stretch painfully, like limbs being steadily plied from a torso over a matter of days, until at last they pop out, sockets splitting. It’s a warning you should know how to recognise by now, but every low of his absence encourages the high of his return, the sweet flutter of your pulse, the hitch in your breathing as his fingers stroke across the skin of your collarbones placatingly.

“At some point,” you agree quietly, shifting in his arms, revelling in the rasp of his clothes against yours, the counter top now pressing just shy of the base of your spine, his hands shifting to brace on the surface at your back. “Where were you?” You ask lightly, eyes scanning him attentively. He doesn’t doubt that if he could feel the abrasion of your gaze, his skin would be left slightly raw.

His shadows darken with pleasure.

“Out,” he murmurs. “Away.”

You frown at the answer, lips shifting with displeasure at the vagueness. “Where out?”

“Does it matter?” He asks coyly, hazel eyes gleaming as he peers down at you, kept between his arms. “I’m back now.”

You tilt your head, brows slightly narrowed causing the hairs at the nape of his neck to rise. He likes it when your curiosity is blatant. When you can’t manage to hide to your intrigue.

“You were doing something for the court?” You push, causing him to smile faintly. He doubts you’re even aware of your refusal to apply names to other people, as if it’ll ruin the purity of the moment.

The smile has frustration growing in the pit of your stomach, irritated by his lack of answer.

“You can tell me,” you urge lowly, still cupping the scalding mug of tea. “If it ever strains on you, too. You can always talk to me about it.” Does he not want to tell you about it? Is it private? Is there some reason he can’t tell you?

His smile widens a little, head dipping down so he can peer at you closer, inky strands of hair flopping over your brow as his nose brushes your own. “It’s not for your ears,” he answers lowly, that faint smile still on his lips, anger growing back into that simmer over his lack of sincerity.

“I want to know,” you reply, brows dipping down as you grip the mug tighter. “Come on, Az. You always do this.”

“Do what?” He replies, a spark in his eyes.

“This,” you snap, jerking your chin at him sharply. “Either answer or don’t, but stop playing games.”

“But you’re so enjoyable to tease,” he chuckles roughly, and you’re aware of how his shadows are stroking against your legs. Slow, lulling strokes as they wrap around the curve of your calves, over the bump of your knees, skimming the exposed skin just above them. He’s closer than he was before.

Your jaw tightens, the familiar rise of aggression burning your insides, the desire to lash out and maim over something so small. For making you so volatile. Turning the spiked pulse of your blood from peace to destruction so swiftly, like whiplash.

He’s so attentive, you’re certain he knows your frustration, how you crave his company, desperate for him to confide in you like you do with him. And yet he’s blatantly ignoring it—it’s cruel. Out of character for him, who’s usually so ready to listen, so perfect at providing comfort, seeming to understand you effortlessly. Why then, does he insist on pretending otherwise. Does he just not care any more? Does he not care that he’s your favourite? Does his world no longer revolve around you?

His smile softens as he feels the heat warming your cheeks, shadows reporting the grip you have on the ceramic mug. The dilation of your pupils.

“I’m here now,” he murmurs, liking how your breath hitches as his palm presses lightly against your spine, encouraging you to press into him. “You know I’ll always come back. That’s all that matters isn’t it?”

You’re silent, mouth set in a sullen line, eyes dark and resentful as they glare up at him. All that emotion. All for him.

Satisfaction settles deep in his chest, shadows flicking higher in reward.

He likes how malleable you are—for his hands only.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes lowly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as they skate across your own. “I’ll stop.”

His palm slides lower, making the slow descent over the curve at the base of your spine, hazel eyes practically pinning you to the ground, keeping you from moving.

Your pulse flutters, wanting to bite at his lip, lips that are dipping lower, your breath shallowing as he draws nearer…nearer… The tremor in your fingers becomes more pronounced as his mouth slants softly against your own, and you’re unable to help yourself as your teeth settle against him, eyes locking as you drag across his lower lip slowly. He doesn’t pull away, just watches you idly, as if interested in what you’ll do next.

Why didn’t he want to tell you where he’d gone?

You pull away, mouth feeling cold, before returning quickly, seeking the heat of his lips to warm you again, to burn like the scalding liquid in your mug. A pleased noise drags roughly from the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest, and his hand slides lower, settling over your rear, shadows wrapping around your thighs.

You inhale deeply, pulling his scent into your lungs. Committing him to memory—the slight roughness of leather that mixes with his scent, the dampness of the outdoors clinging to the strands of his hair. The cruel softness of his mouth as it presses deeper, wanting more from you, wanting to have more, to take more as he plies you open, swiping over the tingling skin of your tongue, numb from the burn of tea.

Azriel groans lowly, hands lifting you to sit upon the counter, moving you without asking so he can step between your already open thighs, shadows playing curiously beneath the cover of your skirts, grazing the soft skin of your hips, the pronounced curve of your stomach now you’re sitting.

Shakily, you bring your arms to wrap over his shoulders, keeping careful hold of the mug, heat biting into your fingers.

He pulls away, lips looking bitten and slightly raw where your canines have dragged over him, reddened from abrasion.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks lowly, voice rough and gravelly.

Both of you know the question is insincere, a purely superficial ask, inquired out of courtesy rather than genuine concern. This isn’t something either of you are in a place to stop. Neither of you want it to stop.

“Maybe,” you answer anyway, nails scraping against the nape of his neck. “Do you want it?” Do you want me? “Yes.”

Your insides flutter, but you…

Your brow narrows, hearing the doubt in your mind. Something holding you back from the male before you. “Where were you earlier?” You ask quietly, intently.

He blinks slowly, shadows pausing their exploration at the question, his lips curving.

Frustration ignites beneath your skin, and the mug slants in your hand.

He snarls in pain, hands gripping you with such force you think he might crack something as the scalding liquid streams down his back, hitting the nape of his neck and dripping over his shoulders into your lap. You slow the pour, righting the mug again as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his arms like iron as he keeps you crushed against his front, gripping onto you desperately, furiously, obsessively. Finger biting into the tendon at the top of your spine painfully, breath catching in your lungs as your legs wrap around him.

His shadows hiss and whisper viciously, tightening brutally around the tops of your thighs, squeezing your waist like a serpent set on swallowing its prey whole.

Azriel pulls back, fury and hunger darkening his hazel eyes as they lock with your own, cheeks flushed with heat, tension abating now he’s understanding what he subjected you to in denying your question. He opens his mouth to speak, and you pour the rest of the mug down his back.

His eyes go wide, skin paling a little with fury, then his brow is narrowing, eyes squeezed shut as his head dips, hanging as he pants heavily, hand leaving your back to settle over your thigh, biting at the soft and supple flesh in a way he knows will bruise deliciously.

The liquid splashes when it drips onto the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, the only noise aside from his heavy breathing, and you wait from him to open his eyes again, at last feeling satisfied, justified now the unpleasant emotion has been expelled.

Slowly, he raises his head, meeting your heated gaze, his tan skin warm and flushed, lips parted invitingly as he evens out his breathing. “Happy now?” He breathes lowly, raggedly, so close you can feel each syllable over your mouth. So close to where he needs to be right now—all it would take is a slight incline of your head and your lips would meet again.

Teeth prod at your lower lip as his shadows at last pry the empty mug from your hands, feeling shy and warm all over, head dipping a little with the intensity he’s watching you with. Shy at having acted so boldly, so brazenly before him. Like walking past him in little more than your underwear and expecting not to get grabbed.

“Answer me, pretty thing,” he breathes, gripping your jaw lightly to tilt your head.

You nod, toes curling as one hand threads through his hair, damp at the ends, the other tracing down his back, making small, make-believe patterns. “I’m happy now.”

————

He’s had you bent over the table so long your bones hurt, thighs aching from the sharp angle, on your tippy-toes to find some kind of support, though the cotton of your socks keeps slipping over the smoothness of the tiles, making it difficult.

That’s no doubt something he intended, though.

You babble, tears wet on the wooden surface of the table, lips gleaming with saliva and…something else…

His scarred hand wraps beneath your throat as he leans over, pressing to your back as he pries you from the table, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Ready?” He taunts lowly, the chuckle rasping from his chest as you feel the bare heat of him between your legs, thighs sticky with steadily drying release, gleaming with swiftly refreshening arousal.

You try to respond, but nonsense gushes from numb lips, babbling as words bubble on your tongue, simmering in your mind but unable to wrap your fingers around their slick wetness, springing out of your grip and bouncing away.

“Answer me,” he laughs roughly, squeezing lightly at your throat in reprimand, thumb and fingers pressing beneath the softness of your jaw, adding pressure without impeding your ability to breathe. “Tell me you want me,” he urges, rolling his hips against you tauntingly, free hand returning between your thighs, fingers lightly circling your clit, making more tears drip from your cheeks and fall onto the table.

“A— Az…” you cry, nails dragging over the surface, squirming as you tremble, so worn out and so tired. “Az—… I— I can’t—!” He releases you abruptly, allowing you to flop forward, shadows cushioning the drop.

Instead his hands take up a bruising hold on your hips, and you cry out when he lifts you from the table, hands scrambling for purchase as you struggle with balance. It’s not very far…maybe the length of your forearm…but your feet can no longer touch the floor, and you struggle for some kind of stability.

“Az…” you whimper, panting heavily, squirming as you feel him press his tip to the soft, wet dip between your thighs. “Keep still,” he instructs hungrily, voice deep and rough, making your toes curl. You can’t take anymore…you can’t take another one. He’s forced too many into you, dragged them out with his teeth, plied them gently with his fingers, shoved them in with his cock and shadows. So full and empty you can’t think straight anymore.

“Or don’t,” he breathes, darkness tracing down your spine, pinching at your breasts as you leverage yourself on your forearms. “Struggle all you like.” Then he’s shoving the breath from your lungs as he fills you up in one swift motion, pushing shy, soft noises from your lips to make room for his cock.

You babble, spine curving as you squeeze him, toes pointed as you seek stability, but he’s holding your hips so effortlessly, as if you really are just a toy he can fuck and breed for as long and as hard as he likes. Even while his cum is spilling out of you, dripping down your silicon-made thighs.

Your arms tremble at the thought, as he keeps his hips pressed tight against the backs of your thighs for a minute, basking in the wet heat, the grip you have on him, so eager to take him while you’re trying to protest.

“How many more can you give me, hm?” He muses roughly, shadows stroking down your spine affectionately, soothing the jitter of your muscles as you begin to soften again. Reassured by the gentle touch, even if it won’t last long. That’s all it takes from him—a few gentle touches, a few gentle words, and he can have you like this.

“Two? Three?” He questions idly, moving slightly behind you, causing him to shift inside of you, cock pressing against a spot—saliva pools on the table, spilling over slightly parted lips, panting heavily, giving up and letting him hold you above the floor.

“Az…” you mumble softly, blinking away tears. “I can’t…I can’t do anymore…I’m tired…” Shadows raise from the table, rubbing gently at your cheeks, and you tilt into them, allowing them to cup your jaw, moving like his hands would if they were brushing the wetness away.

“No? You won’t give me anymore?” He asks lightly, as if he doesn’t particularly mind what your answer will be—it’ll have no affect on what he chooses. He knows what he’s going to do with you, and he knows you will let him. “You were telling me a moment ago how good it felt. How full you were and how badly you wanted me to—”

“Azriel!”

A flush of humiliation warms your cheeks, thighs trying to press together, heat bubbling away, already prepared for him.

“Embarrassed?” He chuckles lowly, your breasts peaking at the sound. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about around me. You deserve to be fucked full, don’t you?” Your toes curl, nails lightly scraping over the wood of the surface. Head dipping as heat flushes your cheeks more intensely.

Azriel hums, dragging his hips back slowly, and you squeeze him tightly, trying to suction him back in, already feeling so cold and empty without him heating you up. “Don’t you?” He repeats encouragingly, hungrily taking in the curved plain of your back—thinking how he could trail the knuckles of your spine with the soft flat of his tongue.

You swallow thickly, knowing it will please him to answer. “I deserve it,” you mumble into the table, head dipping lower to muffle your words. But of course it isn’t enough.

“What was that?” He muses roughly, pushing ever so slightly back in, urging more filthy confessions from your tongue.

The heat builds, and you push your face into the crook of your elbow, lips practically brushing the table top. “I can’t say it,” you mumble, features burning hot. “It’s embarrassing…”

“You’re not getting anything until you do,” he drawls, making to draw out of you entirely. Leaving you cold and empty on your kitchen table.

“I—…” you begin, panicked and rushed, whimpering when shadows pull your head from the table, tugging lightly on your hair. “I deserve it…I deserve to be fucked full,” you repeat, getting a strange sense of his pride at the confession, squeezing him hard in return. You’ve done your part…he has to fulfil his side now.

Azriel curses beneath his breath, before easing back into you, watching how your back shifts as you desperately pull air down into your lungs, feeling breathless no matter what you do. “Gods, you should see yourself right now,” he utters roughly, gazing down at your joining point, the broadening of your hips where you’re bent over.

“Fuck, you take me so well…” he groans, grinding against you. So much deeper now he has you suspended like this, his hands still gripping you tight.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we? Since you’re so tired.” He murmurs, able to hear the deep-throated hunger in his voice, slightly mocking of your stamina. Despite how long he’s been working on you. It’s not even light out anymore.

“Pass out if you’d like,” he adds, dipping down to nip at your ear, and you squirm against him, wishing he’d start moving again, now that he’s reignited the arousal between your thighs.

“I’d like to see what you do, when I fuck you back into consciousness.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

dark!az taglist: @honeyandhalfmoons

[salchat]

Secret Flowers - Chapter 14

Don’t expect anything.  If you love, don’t expect to be loved back.  You don’t deserve to be loved.  Love is for other people.  Not for you.

He could tell the voices - his own voice - to fuck off.  But it was like snakes stirring in a pit, rising up and hissing at him, like that bit in Raiders.  

Dean rested his hands on the edge of the old kitchen table, letting his head sag.  He and Cas had been doing well.  They’d been healing - together.  They’d finally found each other and, yeah, it was a messy, mixed-up what-the-hell-are-we-doing kind of relationship, but it was getting there.  They’d even made it to highschool stage a couple of times - fumbling and embarrassed, and Dean hadn’t known how far to go or what he could ask Cas to do and they’d really needed to talk about it - but then they’d both gotten sick.  And now Cas didn’t seem interested - in Dean or in anything.

Was it slipping away?  This life they had begun to build together?  Would they drift back to the bunker and slot back into that old, bitter hunting life?

Dean’s eyes wandered to the kitchen window, framed in blue curtains that Cas had insisted upon.  Outside, the light was a stark white, the stiff spikes of grass tipped with frost, ruts in the stamped-up area at the bottom of the verandah iced into hard ridges.  The tips of the pine trees shifted in the restless wind.  Would the stream be frozen over?  Maybe it was protected down in its little valley.  Or maybe it was a cold-air sink down there and the water was as solid as iron.

He squinted at the scene and then pushed away from the table and stood so close to the window that he could feel the cold coming from the glass on the tip of his nose.  

The sky was moving.  Out of the blank whiteness, soft, fat flakes were lazily drifting down.  Already they were collecting on the edge of the verandah, on the tops of the ridged dirt - outlining the footprints he and Cas had made when the ground was soft and they’d gone to get more wood from the shed.  If it kept up, soon the whole place would be covered in white.

They’d arrived in the summer, when the air was warm and soft and fragrant, and they’d worked through the heat and then through the damp, rich, mould-scent of the fall.  Now winter was here in its soon-to-be pristine whiteness.  And in a few months time, new green shoots would come up and there’d be spring flowers and sunshine.

This place was home.  It was Dean’s and Cas’s.  They belonged here.  And they belonged to each other.

Dean tensed his jaw and made a sharp noise of grim determination through his tightly pressed lips.  Time to get back on track.

He opened a can of soup to go with the sandwiches and put it on to heat.  He set out two bowls, two spoons, two glasses of milk, and put the plate of sandwiches in between, so that he and Cas could share.  The soup sizzled.  He stirred it for a minute and then poured it into the bowls.  

Dean looked at the place settings.  Then he grabbed another glass from the cupboard, half-filled it with water and wrenched open the fridge.  He sorted through the crisper drawer, pulling out a couple of tired scallions and the remains of one of those long, tall lettuces.  He separated the leaves and shoved them down into the glass and flicked them so they sprayed out a bit.  Then he dumped the arrangement in the middle of the table, between the two place settings.  Picture fucking perfect.

He wanted to cry.  He wanted to snarl.  He wanted to fight.

He wanted to still be loved.

Read on AO3

Read on ffn

[animusiem]

Billboard USA Exclusion Zone Episode 21 (01/13/2024)

Now that all the Christmas stuff is gone, what do we have to replace all of the Christmas songs? Well seems like we are still stuck with what 2023 had to offered. Regional Mexican, J-Pop, old songs that went viral on TikTok, and some legacy songs just debuted. And yet looking at the chart reset I think showed a bigger picture that I will get to on my blog, stay tuned. Enough stalling let's get into these meaty lists of new arrival

--------------------------------------------------------

49. "Goat" by Number_I

You know the year hasn't even started yet and we might have a contender for the worst song of the year. Like imagine if Fleeting Lullaby by Ado was remixed by a B-tier boyband and the productions sounded like the backwash of Gen 3 boyband group sound...you get this.

51. "Rompe La Dompe" by Peso Pluma, Junior H, Oscar Maydon

This is probably the most well produced Peso Pluma song in corridos scene. I love how chill the song is. Definitely needed after...that car crash the size of opening lap of Belgian GP in 1998 proportion.

64. "Wherever u r" by UMI ft. V from BTS

Seems like V beside making solid RnB album, also want to platform small RnB artist as well. And it's a great song to boot as well. I'm instantly hooked by UMI's voice with the melodic guitar, spacious production, and just immaculate atmosphere which is perfect for the sort of cut about long distance longing. I do think the percussion is a bit loud. But hey it's still a high recommendation

114. "Poco A Poco" by Xavi ft. Los Dareyes de La Sierra

Seems like the train of regional Mexican sound is still rolling because we have a newcomer by the name of Xavi. He's not Spanish by the way he's from Arizona. But, he has been going up on the chart with La Diabla which is a good song. And this one might be better due to the fact that there's a slap bass in it.

132. "Maria Mariah" by Silva MC, DJ F7, C NO BEAT & MC Meno Dani

10/10 would Brazilian funk again.

154. "Modo DND" by Xavi & Tony Aguirre

I feel like the reason why I've been positive with Xavi because in terms of corridos tumbados, his sounds are very full and competently produced for once. I love the horn lines here the most because it's kinda like all over the place.

161. "Murder On The Dancefloor" by Sophie Ellis-Bextor

TikTok strikes again and this time it might be their best find yet. Coming from the Saltburn ending where Barry Keoghan "dancing" to this song, we have quite possible the reason why Future Nostalgia existed in the first place. I'm glad that Americans are listening to this two decades later. The lush nu-disco production that didn't aged a day with the liquid guitar, tight bass, and the strings. Every seconds of this song is just tight and controlled which could be attributed to Gregg Alexander aka the bald guy with the bucket hat from New Radicals. The guitar solo is just an icing on the cake on otherwise fantastic tune.

162. "Husn" by Anuv Jain

Never thought I would hear a song from India like this to be honest. But hey it's a nice surprised to hear this type of sounds in other languages that I am not familiar with.

170. "Overdrive" by Ofenbach ft. Norma Jean Martine

It's kinda cool how dance genre has probably its stronger year in 2023. This is the first one I'm listening to this year and yeah the streak keep on going here. Never have I heard more beautiful piano house since...shit probably Hold My Hand.

172. "Alucin" by Eugenio Esquivel X Grupo Marca Registrada X Sebastian Esquivel

This is probably the best "Edm mixed with regional mexican" song I've heard. Though when your competition is a song by Fuerza Regida featuring Marshmello...yeah

186. "Let Me Love You" by DJ Snake ft. Justin Bieber

Not gonna lie, the sound of DJ Snake just didn't hold up so well with time. This song in 2024 sounds so empty and devoid of anything interesting.

190. "Have You Ever Seen The Rain" by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Meanwhile this song is timeless and could be played at any time where you are feeling down or just sick of the bullshit get thrown at you.

191. "Livin On A Prayer" by Bon Jovi

Just listening to this one song and you will get why hair metal was at one point the biggest genre in the world in the mid 80s.

193. "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga

Meanwhile just listened to this song and you'll get why Lady Gaga is an icon and deserved her acolades.

197. "Be A Flower" by Ryokuoushoku Shakai

Wait so this is the song that became an opening for an anime about ancient China? Why does this bang so hard????

199. "One Dance" by Drake ft. Wizkid & Nyla

One Dance is a good song but this song marked the exact point where Drake stopped trying most of the times because his status as #1 hit makers has been sealed.

200. "Lean On" by Major Lazer ft. DJ Snake & MO

It's a good even great EDM song but it's pale in comparison to its competition at that time.

I highly recommend everyone listening to these songs

[basichextechml]

Proper Holiday // Ch.2

Tangerine/GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit // 3.5K words // Reader’s gender not described + they/them pronouns, The gun finally gets used, I also don’t know anything about guns, Canon-typical violence starting here, Major Character Death to come

Fate Worked in funny ways, like ruining your holiday.

Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // Epilogue

---

     You liked to think that you were pretty good at your job. You’d never gotten caught, always delivered, and hadn’t died yet. If you were allowed to have a yelp page, you’d probably have a solid 5 star rating. But you had to admit, going after a killer while not knowing what they looked like or their particular method of killing was a bit of a shot in the dark. Not your brightest moment, you’d say. 

     But could you really be at fault? Probably. But arguing with Tangerine seemed to cancel out any sort of logic you had going for you. So then what do we do in times like these, when you’re roaming around a train looking for a killer? Process of elimination.

     Other than bleeding from the eyes, the body showed no obvious other signs of trauma. No wounds from blunt force trauma or from a gunshot. No marks around the neck or blue tint to the lips that would indicate strangulation. And given the fact that The Son died in such a short span of time, and so quietly, you’d have to make an educated guess and go with a quick acting poison. Though, you once again hit a wall. Your knowledge on poison was limited. They were difficult to perfect and by no means the most satisfying way of killing someone, so you never really bothered. Right now, though, you kinda wished you had. There was nothing coming to mind when thinking of the symptoms The Son exhibited. 

     Quickly skirting through a small gaggle of children looking for Momonga, you dip into another luggage cove in order to search for your phone that began to buzz. It was a text from Tangerine.

     K WAS RIGHT.

     GUY IN BLACK GLASSES HEADED L’S WAY!

     STOP HIM!

     Huffing slightly through your nose in amusement, you smiled slightly, texting back something that would really piss him off.

     Told you so

     Laughing to yourself, you turned back into the hallway, ready to continue on in your journey. Yelping slightly, the kids from earlier came running back through the door, chattering and giggling to each other and completely ignoring your presence as you all but fall back against the luggage hold. The bags rattle against one another, and something metal clanks against plastic. Grumbling, you right yourself just before you register a faint hissing noise. Stopping dead in your tracks, you listen for it again, but it tapers off. Shutting your eyes quickly, you brace for impact in case anything exploded. 

     Silence. 

     Thoroughly confused, your eyes darted from one car door to the other, making sure no one else was coming, before dropping to a squat in front of the cage and peering inside. A snake curled up into a ball at the far end gives you another sharp hiss, it’s beady gaze locked onto you, tail recoiled in wait. Taking out your burner again, you snap a quick picture and send it off to the chat with a text.

---

     Tangerine stomped through the themed Momonga carriage, willing away the headache that was very quickly forming from the dimly lit but multi-colored car. He was a hair's breadth away from pulling out his own hair if he had to hear another goddamn plush toy squeak today. Pushing passed the mascot that was shoving toys in his face, he muttered, “Out of my way. I don’t have the time or the patience-” the foam material of the costume gives under his fist as he snatches a plush almost reflexively from the cart, “-let alone the interest.” 

     He stares at the plush in disdain, shaking his head, scolding himself for even grabbing the damn thing. The mascot squeaks behind him, just like those godforsaken toys as it tries to keep up with him.

     “Are you following me?” He sneers, stopping in the middle of the aisle, throwing out his hand. “Stop!” The mascot throws up its hands in compliance, its soulless plastic eyes and embroidered grin contrasting against its movement. Tangerine fucking hates mascots. 

     Without a second thought, Tangerine chucks the plush he’d snagged at the mascot's face, expletives falling from his mouth as he bent down inconspicuously to pick it back up again.

     You said you liked Momonga, and he already had the plush.

     Well, speak of the devil and they shall appear or whatever the saying is, because his phone buzzes just as he’s out of the carriage, your contact name lighting up on his messaging app. 

     Attached is a blurry photo of what seems to be an animal carrier, and he has to squint to even have a fighting chance to figure out what’s inside the crate. Your follow up text provides a few more clues.

     Haha snakes on a train

     Get it

     Like that movie, but with a train instead

     Since we’re on a train

     Realization runs him over like a truck, and he’s already switching out of the app to check where you are on the train. His fingers tap against the screen quickly, legs already carrying him one car down.

     Stay put. I’m headed towards you now.

     DON’T TOUCH THE FUCKING SNAKE.

---

     Tangerine doesn’t let you hold the crate as you both retreat back to Lemon, the man holding the box as far away as possible from you both. Instead, he trades with you, a fluffy little Momonga plushy secured in your grip as you hug it close to your chest. Tangerine had gotten it for you. It was so cute. He was so cute. Thumbs brushing over the soft cheeks of the plush in reverence, you promised you’d give Tangerine a gift of his own once you got off this stupid train.

     As you round the seats, you barely make out the lax body of Lemon before Tangerine is haphazardly tossing the crate onto the table and yanking his brother up by the collar. Your breath hitches at the blood on his face, and you can tell Tangerine is growing ever worried by his state. 

     Lemon lets out a soft groan as he gently comes to, and Tangerine feels like the worry had taken years off of his life for nothing. “Oh my god, for a minute there- Jesus Christ. You had a bit of a bosh, pal?” Lemon mumbles something incoherently. You place the plush toy Tangerine had gifted you in its own chair and fasten a seatbelt around it, before you quickly grab the wet wipes from your bag again to help clean him off. Meanwhile, Tangerine pulls the Momonga glasses- how did those get there?- off the floor, putting them back onto The Sons face. He pats Lemon on the back again. “C’mon man, five stations to Kyoto. Up and up again.”

     “Stop being mean,” You chastise, wiping the last bit of blood from Lemons forehead, “Give the man a little time to recuperate from getting his ass kicked.”

     “Didn’t get my ass kicked,” Lemon slurs, wiping at his eyes and slumping in his aisle seat.

     “You did,” You respond solemnly. 

     Tangerine rolls his eyes at your banter, pulling up the arm rest and grabbing your waist, guiding you to sit as he follows, thoroughly crushing you between himself and the dead body. Making a noise of protest, you worm to the side and throw one of your legs over his own. If you were uncomfortable, he’d have to be uncomfortable too. Didn’t even matter that you were actually enjoying this. Well, not the dead body to your right. Besides the point, though. 

     “So.” You start. “Snake.”

     “Yep, snake.”

     “There’s a snake?” Lemon asks redundantly.

     “Yes, a snake,” Tangerine answers.

     “Why do we have one of those?”

     “I don’t know, but T says I shouldn’t touch it,” You say, “Kinda makes me want to touch it now, though.”

     Lemon groans, “Don’t tell me it’s that missing snake that that Japanese Zoo has its knickers in a twist over.”

     Tangerine grabs your hand that’s already midair, looking to touch the snake. And you tussle for a moment before giving in, your arm pinned between both of you. “You listen to me, yeah? Or else you be bleeding out your fucking eyesockets.”

     A lightbulb dings in your mind a little too late, head whipping over to look at The Son, “Like him?”

     Silence.

     “Oh fucking hell.”

     You’d be more embarrassed that it took you this long to connect the dots if you were the only one who hadn’t realized. But it seems you hadn’t been the only one with the sheet pulled over your head by the looks on Lemon and Tangerine’s faces. “Awesome. Great. Fucking Peachy.” You cursed. 

     Tangerine tensed underneath you, you could feel the way his thigh shifted, ringed fingers coming up to squeeze your knee. He was anxious on the best of days, simply in his nature, but now? He must be tearing himself apart trying to figure out a solution that would get all of you out of this mission alive.

     “I guess our best option now… Is uh…” Tangerine paused, trying to find the right words, handsome features twisted in perpetual unease. “Bring The White Death the man that killed his son.” Well, easier said than done. You could appreciate the sentiment, though. 

     “Yeah but glasses didn’t do it,” Lemon says ruefully, mad about what he himself was saying.

     “I couldn’t give a rats ass-”

     “-No I’m telling you I read him, he’s not the type.” 

     “Lemon’s right,” You interject, pointedly ignoring the incredulous look Tangerine is giving you, “The guy was weird, but I don’t think he has the theatrics for something like this.”

     Tangerine still hasn’t moved his hand off your knee, squeezing it again in thought. Asshole. It kind of made you want to kiss him even more.

     “Well someone’s gotta take the blame, don’t they?” He gripes. You hear a phone buzz, and you all instinctively begin looking for your phones, at the same time he and Lemon ask each other who’s phone it is.

     Your blank screen stares back at you, no notification to be found, and Lemon curses, looking through his coat packets. “Shit, that asshole stole my phone.” Lemon’s search turns more frantic, and you hear Tangerine mutter dickhead under his breath. “And my gun Lucille!-”

     “Oh come on-”

     “-That’s my favorite gun! Son of a bitch.”

     “Fucking asshole,” Tangerine swears, equally incensed at the injustice his brother had faced. You on the other hand searched for Tangerine’s phone, the bussing driving you absolutely batshit. Swiping up his suit jacket, you fumble through the pockets before pulling out the phone, throwing it on the table and picking up the call. You poke the side of Tangerine’s neck to get him to quit bickering and answer the man on the phone. “Right, what?”

     “Step off the train at the next stop with the briefcase and his-”

     Tangerine’s face morphs into confusion, mustache twitching up along with his lip in a slight snarl, “Well hang on a minute- didn’t we say Kyoto?” 

     The accented voice on the other end practically cuts him off. “You will still depart at Kyoto. The White Death wants to make sure you are being honest about situation-”

     You make a finger gun and point it to your temple, mentally blowing your brains out as Lemon laughs, putting his head in his hands over their overbearance. 

     “Well I think it’s a waste of our-”

     The phone beeps thrice, the call dropped. 

     “Alright, all we have to do is get off at the stop with a briefcase we don’t have,” Lemon gestures wildly to the dead body at your side, “and a live son instead of a dead one.”

You sigh, rubbing at your eyes in exhaustion. Vacations were meant to be a time of rest. Fate had completely screwed you over in the fact that your life was now on the line more than you had mentally prepared for this week. Was there a reason for all this? You hoped there was. That some cosmic power or force or whatever the fuck was watching you all get tossed around on this train like a garden salad and had something nice planned at the end of it all. 

     “It was nice knowing you chaps,” You sulk, placing your hand over Tangerine’s. He still hasn't moved it off your knee. “You both were well and truly my best mates.”

     “Oh hop off the cross, buttercup. I’m not letting us die that easily.” The way his thumb grazed over your knuckles nearly made you believe him. He looked at Lemon. “What are you thinking?”

     They exchanged a look.

     A spark lit behind his eyes as he looked at you, a small smirk twitching up as he nodded his head.

     “The old Punch and Judy.”

---

     “This is debasing” You mutter angrily, channeling your rage into making The Son’s dead body wave out the window. 

     “Yeah and I've had to do it like a million times,” Lemon whispered back through clenched teeth, smiling and waving at the men outside, “so nut up or shut up.”

---

     You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Tangerine hot when he was angry. And he was always somewhat angry, so it was a constant win for you. Maybe not very good for his hypertension, though. 

     “We need to find that glasses prick right the fuck now.” He huffs and puffs in frustration, a prominent vein on his temple that was normally hidden by his curly hair on display with how it’s gelled. Your fingers twitch with the urge to mess it up a little, but it’s definitely not where your priorities should lay right now, and you instead busy yourself with grabbing the cage handle and pulling the thing across the table. “I’m gonna go up, you go down, double back when you’re done. If you see him fucking deal with him, yeah?” 

     The look he gives you is more one of desperation than anger. His eyes a pit of apologies that he would never speak out loud. The biggest grievance in his eyes? Letting you get into this mess with them. This was their assignment. They didn’t even know that you were gonna be on the train. The way you nod your head lets Tangerine know that you don’t mind in the slightest. And it’s true- you don’t mind at all. He’d put his neck out on the line for you plenty of times, and sure, none of those promised an impending sense of doom such as this one, but he’d gotten you out of trouble and lessen the pain more than you could describe. And deep down in your bones, you knew you were meant to be helping them with this. Why else would fate have put you on this train?

     He’s nearly lost for words at the look you give him, before settling on, “What gun do you have on you?”

     “The Walther.”

     “PDP or PPQ?”

     “PPQ.”

     He curses out loud, ignoring the looks of other affronted passengers. The PPQ was a compact, he wasn't even sure he had any magazines that would fit. Lemon tosses him his small bag from the overhead bins and Tangerine rummages through it. “How many rounds do you have?”

     “I didn’t plan on firing it,” It’s not really an answer, so you turn the gun over and show off the single magazine you had tucked into the gun. It was a 10 round. Not ideal, but it was better than nothing.

     Tangerine’s search was fruitless, and he looks to see if Lemon has anything extra, to which his brother only shakes his head. Lemon turns away as Tangerine grabs your hand, palm coming over the gun safety. It’s clicked off. He had to check. “I need you to be fucking on it. If you let that fucker get a head on you, and you don’t come back? I’ll-” Tangerine wasn’t sure where he was going with this. But the way your jaw set firm told his subconscious that you understood what he was saying. Your hand was warm against his as he pushed the gun further into your grasp. He could feel your pulse just underneath his ring finger. “- I won’t let you live it down. Ever. You make every round count.”

     Realistically, you should feel disrespected. A lesser person would take his comment, as a seasoned professional, and feel as if they were being infantilized- looked down upon. But you knew Tangerine. He knew you. And you knew that he didn’t voice his concerns about others safety. You’d only seen it once before, when you all were in a particularly difficult spot, and he had taken a moment to tell Lemon that if he died, he’d come right after him and kick his ass. Sweet, in a morbid sense. Affection bloomed in your chest. 

     “You know I will.”

---

     You’d gone back to where you’d found the snake. Hopefully the killer had figured out their prized possession had gone missing, and were on the lookout. You made it pretty obvious.

     “Oh boy!” You said louder than necessary, ignoring the odd looks as you traipsed around with the absurdly heavy cage, making sure to keep the opening away from both yourself and any innocent bypasser. “I sure do love owning a snake!” This was the first time you’d done this. And you repeated that process, roaming from one car to the next, trying to sleuth your way through the process of finding a killer. There was a very big reason as to why you primarily took assassination jobs. This being one of them. You could be subtle, yes, but the jobs already gave you your target and where you could find them. You were a killer, not a private investigator.

     Trudging through yet another door, your tired body perked up a bit at the themed Momonga car, the mascot already inside and entertaining everyone who’d paid extra for the experience. The cage rattled as you stepped into the car, the train taking a particularly sharp turn that was a bit disorientating. Bending down to check on the snake, you were startled to find the Momonga mascot right in front of you. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it before, but it really did look like the character from the show you loved. It looked soft too. So soft. But you couldn’t hug it. You were on a mission, even if it was technically your holiday. Were you getting paid for this?

     The mascot makes a noise of disgruntlement, and you trail its button eyed gaze down to the cage in your hand. “Hi Momonga.” You chime, pulling the cage behind your back, out of its sight. “I’d really love to chat, but I’m actually looking for someone! So I’ll see you later, okay?” Momonga doesn’t say a word, only watching as you skirt around it, and shuffle away. The soft padded feet of the costume hides the fact that it’s following you. 

     You had no clue there was a bar section of this train. Knowing that maybe would’ve made this whole ordeal a bit more bearable. Sighing into the empty compartment, you take a seat at the bar, setting the cage down onto the marble top. 

     Something catches in the corner of your eye- a figure, and you feel your body jolt in surprise. A man in sunglasses lay sleeping with a bottle tucked under his arm, and you relax. It was… odd, though, he was still, nearly stiff. Quietly slipping off the stool, you creep towards him, lifting a finger under his nose. No breath. Your lips purse in confusion, leaning back with your hands on your hips, mind muddled in thought.

     It could have been done by the same person you were looking for, but the method of killing was different. Yes, there was blood on his face- but it seemed to be more of something you’d get from being knocked around rather than the poison. Taking a picture of the body, you started another message to the twins, but the swishing signal of the car door opening caught you off guard. 

     “Momonga?” You question, an inflection on your voice that matches the uptick of your brow. The fluffy mascot stood looming in the door, blocking the light in a way that sent an ominous chill up your spine. Its arms moved up the crease of the costume's neck, where the head and the body connected. Discreetly, you tucked your right hand underneath your jacket towards your gun, the weapon strapped in the waistband of your trousers. The head of the costume was quickly chucked off, a sweaty, curly haired woman the assumed culprit behind- well, most of your undoing this trip. 

     Your suspicions were confirmed as her eyes narrowed, mouth pulling into a snarl as her hand reached into the costume. “You stole my snake, bitch.” Your breath hitched against your ribs, not even making it to your throat as a needle glinted in the air- barely even recognizable to the eye as you pulled your gun from the waistband of your pants, shooting at the syringe as it hurtled through the air towards you. 

     A cracking sound split your ears as the glass tube shattered mid-air, the poison that had caused half of this mess quickly seeping into the carpet of the train carriage. What was left of the needle sat only inches from you, getting lost among the debris.

     Thank god you had your safety off.

---

Taglist: @white-wolf-buckaroo

[phoenix-manga]

In the Scalding Sands fireworks event, which Pokemon would Phoebe bring along and how would everyone over there react to them (including Najma)?

I get the feeling that Phoebe would bring Larvesta, Maractus, and Seviper.

Pokemon perfect to travel along in such a hot environment. Kalim brings the group to his house and the moment they go in, the servants are all staring at Phoebe's Pokemon.

Not every day do you see a large caterpillar, giant snake and a walking cactus!

Servants assigned to take her luggage can't help but be curious about these creatures. Phoebe would allow them to get close and even pet the Pokemon, just keep Maractus' prickly hugs in mind.

Kalim's family meeting the Pokemon would feel like a chapter 2 stampede. Who in the world has this many children?! That is what Phoebe is questioning right now.

But Kalim's parents were nice, though a little too enthusiastic, asking her if they can find such exotic creatures too. Phoebe has to explain that they are very difficult to find and she, unfortunately, cannot provide solid information.

Nonetheless, they welcome the guests warmly. The servants can't help but like the way Seviper's scale feels so smooth to the touch when they were getting them dressed.

Larvesta needed Phoebe to dress her up though because she didn't want to cause a scene when the Pokemon starts spewing fire.

Walking around the marketplace was an experience. Lots of people stared at the Pokemon as they looked around the stalls.

It was almost hard to walk without having to be stopped by locals and tourists to get a photo.

Meeting Najma in the marketplace occurred when Phoebe panicked upon realizing that Maractus was missing. They looked all over the place and eventually found the Pokemon in the arms of a girl who looked similar to Jamil.

She had Maractus in her arms. The group is introduced to her and Najma took one look at Phoebe and rushes in to say hello. She's heard about her achievement in the media and is thrilled to meet a beast tamer.

Phoebe gets a female friend hooray! Though I don't know how old Najma is, she can be the big sister figure to our trainer.

She'd marvel at the Pokemon she brought with her today, she liked Seviper because it looked like something the Sorcerer of the Sand would have.

Larvesta looked so fluffy to hug but she pouts when the bug was shy. Not to mention Jamil kept a good distance from the Pokemon as well.

But Maractus was a sweetheart, despite being prickly the Pokemon was very open to exploring with Najma. She'd miss the little Pokemon after the event is over and they have to go back to NRC.

She'll definitely bug Jamil into sending her a picture of maractus though!

[kokoinupi]

fuck it. rating the swords in cql by fuckability.

thanks to a certain extra chapter i now cannot watch the untamed without thinking about the logistics of fucking the swords. so im gonna rank em based on overall sexiness of design of course, but more importantly, by practical insertability of the hilt. its 4am.

Lan Wangji's sword (Bichen)

the whore that started this all. good ol bichen. this is the only sword we have canon information on the genuine fuckability of. solid, attractive design, for sure, though personally it's a little blocky and boring for me. the main part of the hilt is well-shaped, with a subtle wavy topography in what looks like quartz or ivory, not bad at all. the sword exudes icy air as well which can certainly be a point for it if you're into that, or a point against if you're not keen on getting frostbite in the worst possible place. but there's one big problem here; the shape at the end of the hilt seems very problematic in terms of insertability, so much so that I wonder if the prop designers knew anything at all about the fate of this particular sword, or if they did, and they deliberately tried to make it as unfuckable as possible to hopefully put that thought out of everyone's minds. but we're all thinking it anyway. 6/10 godspeed wei wuxian.

Wei Wuxian's sword (Suibian)

oh honey, this is a stick. this is a branch. very aptly named "whatever", suibian is overall an "eh" in the looks department. in some shots it looks more shiny and finished, but in others it seriously looks like a piece of wood from the forest floor. it's like the swordsmith heard what wuxian wanted to name it and decided to stop trying. the metal detail lends a little to it, and i do have to admit that the blade itself is a lot sexier than the sheath, there's also something to say about its loyalty in sealing itself for only its master, but in its everyday look, it leaves a lot to be desired. the shape of the hilt is not bad, and it has no obstructions at the end, but i wonder exactly how finished the wood really is.... 3/10 ow ass splinters.

Jiang Cheng's sword (Sandu)

ok now this is a sexy sword. very good overall look. this sword is a hot goth that you spot from across the mall food court that you will never talk to, because you know it is too good for you. sandu has its aesthetic figured out. the deep purple, the quilted pattern, the entwined snakes? hell, sandu is too good for jc himself. the frog at the end may be a slight problem for cowards, but it's nowhere near as bad as bichen, and has the ridges down the hilt to make up for it. 8.5/10 the name is metal as fuck too.

Lan Xichen's sword (Shuoyue)

not terrible in design, though it's honestly just bichen's less hot brother. the bulky dull metal looks somewhat cheap and thin, but i do like the double chains on either side of the sheath. the hilt itself is a more exaggerated texture from bichen, and is that same pretty opaque white, but of course the glaring problem here again is the end. this looks like a nightmare to insert, to at least double the degree that bichen is. this is a plug, but not in the way you want it to be. shuoyue does, however, gain something for being the sword in the most homoerotic and tense scene, jgy's death scene, so that's redeeming, i think. 4.5/10 just fuck bichen instead.

Nie Mingjue's saber (Baxia)

ouch. ow. nothing is more hostile and outright unfuckable than baxia's little head of spikes. sexy design but at what cost. you'll have a better time fucking nmj himself tbh. 0/10 not even a sword.

Jin Zixuan/Jin Ling's sword (Suihua)

sexy in an insufferable rich asshole way. so pretty but so infurioratingly stuck up and arrogant it drives you insane and you can't stop thinking about it. the gold detailing is a little much, but like, in a good way. the blue on the sheath is a perfect touch. hilt is smooth and unproblematic, with the buttons for a little extra something, good shape, if not a little short and underwhelming. suihua overall is not a bad sword to fuck, but you better not fall in love with it. 7/10 is he gay or just european.

Xiao Xingchen's sword (Shuanghua)

if shuoyue is bichen's less hot brother, then shuanghua is bichen's sexy cousin, even down to the frost magic. the design is immediately one of the prettiest right away, with the silver design on the sheath and the pretty clean matte white. the structured hexagonal shape of the hilt is incredibly interesting, and the intricate engraving is a nice touch. the end does have a similar problem to bichen though, but while it is more rounded outwards, it's also not disconnected the way bichen is so it's up to you whether it's better or worse overall. 7/10 everyone's sword crush.

Xue Yang's sword (Jiangzai)

holy shit this is a hot sword. i know i previously haven't been commenting on the blades because they're usually sheathed in the pictures i find, but how can i not acknowledge the aesthetic of this blade. everything about this sword overall is exceptionally beautiful, and just the right amount of evil to suit xy. the hilt is very smooth and a bit tapered in shape, very nice. biggest problems is that it does have a tassle on the hilt, and the very end is a flat piece of metal, which might be sharp and would bring down insertability significantly. but i really can't find it in me to lower the score of this beautiful sword for that. 10/10 but the manhua version is even sexier.

Wen Chao's sword

i literally would not be making this post if not for this nameless beauty right here. this sword, in its bold, yet refined design, is the entire reason i thought to myself, hm, maybe you could fuck more than just bichen? it's honestly such a shame that i can't find a higher quality image of this sword, so you'll just have to trust me on this one. the exaggerated, swirled ridges spiraling down the hilt are... needless to say, very intriguing, and the head of it is not only rounded for ideal insertability, but is such a perfect cap shape too. there is absolutely nothing wrong with this sword, down to the design of the sheath, except for the man that carries it. take it out of his hands and put it somewhere more useful. 100/10 i think im genuinely sexually attracted to swords now.

[rcksmith]

Sun — Kaz Brekker

Resume: Feelings are destabilizing things.

A/N: This story is not set in the books of Six Crows, I also changed the age of the characters to twenty-something because the idea of ​​writing something about a child makes me uncomfortable. All my stories, of any characters, are with them being of up age. Just like many fanfics out there in the teen series.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Mention of fight, swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, mention of kiss, mention of desire, desire, mention of death, but so fucking fluff.

Word count: 3k.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There were few things in life that he was absolutely sure of. Things that were immutable, solid, unshakable. That even the strongest of winds would not be able to shake the structure. A life built on the basis of an equation of chaos, suffering, death and despair generated a result where it was necessary to be sure of something. And one of those certainties was the ability of himself, of his instincts, of his intelligence, the notion that he himself was a person capable of resolving any type of situation with iron fists. The second was the certainty of the loyalty of his crows, of the two people who, he knew, would never turn their backs on him.

And the third... the third was that when Kaz Brekker first laid eyes on you, he was sure that you would divide his life between a before and an after.

It was a lepid, ferocious feeling that swept the body of The Bastard of the Barrel from the top of his head to the tip of his polished boots. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat, a shiver as if receiving a midnight sigh at the back of the neck. There was a quick sensation of burning in the heat of an icy fire, but his composure did not flinch a single millimeter. He had learned to keep it in all situations, trained with steel fists.

Kaz looked at you deeply, from the top of your hair to the tip of your feet, trying to find answers as to why you had triggered such disturbing sensations with a simple and ridiculous exchange of looks. But he found no answers. He found neither after a day, nor after a week, damn it, he did not find nor after a month!

You had joined the infamous trio because they needed a fighting expert, someone who could defeat a good number of men on her own without needing backup, which would make their bigger and more complex robberies much easier. And when they found you, a girl who had been the subject for a experiment to create super soldiers, your ability to fight, physical endurance, and your sense of loyalty, made you perfect for the job.

But none of that explained why, whenever the stormy blue eyes met yours, he felt like he was ricochet by living eels. It was exasperating, frustrating on so many levels that it was difficult to put into words. Kaz could not expose this misfortune to his two closest people, first because his pride in admitting a disturbance in his subtly balanced world was too great, and second that... even if he considered said that, he would not know how to name those feelings for express what he were feeling.

How would Jesper and Inej understand something that even he did not understand?

Kaz Brekker had a firm and calm demeanor, an implacably logical mind and a way of narrowing his eyes that ensured that his orders were carried out with great efficiency, all according to the moment he wished. Then, just as he did to get rid of any disturbance, he buried those sensations so deeply until, like his overwhelming pains and traumas, they stopped tormenting him.

He thought that, like his flawless and cunning plans, it would have the same effect. That his nerves could get back to normal and he wouldn't have to deal with the feeling that feel hiself whit cold and hot at the same time whenever he laid eyes on you.

But, if it was true that the practice makes perfect, this rule has not been applied in this situation.

The deeper he buried those beginnings of thats sensations, more of them began to flourish, roaring harder, as a constant reminder that he was not that rock of stoicity and absence of feelings that he liked to think he was. It seemed that, just as light existed to exorcise the darkness, you existed to show that he still had a beating heart. Hot blood still coursing through the veins.

It has not helped anything in his cause that, over time, Inej and Jesper have become attache to you. Jesper even more. But if Kaz put aside his frustration and irritation for a second, he would know that he couldn't to blame them. In fact, there was no way to blame every person who approached you, delighted.

Jesper once described you as "the soul of the party", and Inej said that you had fire in your soul. Kaz would not have been able to think of better definitions to put into words what you were. There was thing about the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way your tilting your head and your so easy smile. There was a thing about you. That transformed you into the solar system and people orbited in your gravity like planets.

You had a way with people, Kaz really thought it was a gift, a talent. You were always laughing, smiling, playing with people and making them so comfortable in your presence that, once, Kaz saw a trader, who are in a the middle of a refused to close a contract with Kaz, just melt and give up because of the smile you gave to him.

Nothing from you has been forced, malicious, shrewd or cunning. You really smiled, you really laughed, as if you were...happy. Purely happy. And, in a second of insanity, Kaz wondered if that happiness was possible. If it was possible for him to feel something like this.

But, just as Brekker took his soul close from you as much as he could to avoid any emotion, Jesper did the exact opposite. Very quickly, just like Kaz and Inej are, the two of you became a pair of inseparable friends. Were always together.

Perhaps it was because you two were overwhelmingly alike: Always in the eye of danger, addicted to adrenaline, purely outgoing and liked a good fun. Or maybe it was because, like everyone around you, Jesper felt drawn closer to your warm, joyful and comforting aura.

But whatever it was, the timbre of your laughter followed by Jesper's became a sound as natural as the whistling of the wind. And it didn't take long for you two to become partners in thefts and plans.

However, it didn't take long too for the reactions Kaz had about the influence of your presence to become...louder.

If Kaz Brekker closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, he could still remember and feel that night perfectly as if it were yesterday:

The plan was succinct: They would have to go through guards, high walls and locks to enter a merchant's residence, open the safe, pick up the jewels and leave. Twenty minutes was the time limit to complete that sequence.

Everyone was assigned to one thing: Kaz would turn off a fabricated security system from a Grisha, Inej would sneak into the shadows to the safe and pick up the jewels, and Jesper and you would be responsible for dealing with the various guards. Everyone would have to meet in the corridor that led to the back exit.

Kaz did not think that that so ridiculous and simple plan it could go wrong. Or that someone could make a slip. To him, it seemed as easy as sneaking into a yacht boat. However, there he was, next to Inej who carried the jewelery bag in her hand, both of them standing in that dimly lit corridor, waiting for you and Jesper to appear.

"It's been three minutes!" Inej pointed, as if Kaz didn't already know that.

Her intonation was concerned, apprehensive, with a certain fear. Kaz thought about saying something, but as soon as his mouth opened to say anything, he heard...

Steps. Hurried steps of two people. No, actually, the two people were running.

Suddenly, you and Jesper burst into the corridor, running as if their lives depended on it. Inej and Kaz would have been worried if it weren't for the bastard and peraltas smiles that stretched across faces of you two, stretching their cheeks.

Then Kaz noticed the reason for the delay. You two carried a giant picture under your left arms. Jesper carried the front end and you the back end, like two children who made a mischief and was running from their mother. True accomplices.

Kaz's jaw opened, his eyes widened slightly and roamed the frame with agitated iris, while Inej was totally baffled.

"C'mon, C'mon!" You exclaimed with laughter in your voice, Jesper and you never stopped running.

As soon all left and took shelter in the safety and peace of the Crow Club closed in that night, Jesper and you fell on the couch, laughing and panting.

"What was that?!” But Kaz was exasperated "Do you both know how much risked the plan?!"

"It was only three minutes, Boss." Jesper defended himself.

"It..." That's when Kaz looked at the painting responsible for all the commotion and fuss.

It was a painting, a landscape by Ravka. The fold. In oil on parchment. A DeKappel. That was worth at least ten thousand Kruges.

“You commented that you needed a new painting for your office.” Your voice took Kaz out of the admiration on the painting, and Jesper and Inej looked at you as if they had discovered that now too.

Jesper and Inej thought it was just for the money...

Kaz looked up into your eyes, and the cold, warm shiver spreading across his chest and snaking to his bones. As it always did the moment yours eyes meeting.

He remembered commenting in passing, in a very vague and obtuse way, that he wanted a new painting in the office. Until that moment, Brekker didn't think you paying attention to what he had to say. Not when it wasn't about a job or plan.

But there you were, proving that you had heard. And that you cared.

His breath caught for a second, the icy chill turned to something warmer, like the first sparks of fire in a fireplace. The first flames that precede the fire.

After that, Kaz began to pay more attention, unconsciously, to what you said. And, consequently, he started paying more attention to you. It had been gradual, sneaky as a snake, imperceptible so he wouldn't be able to root it out. As if the universe, destiny or divines, introduced, grain by grain, a small summer in a landscape frozen by winter.

It all started with your comment about liking it sweeter than salty, that dry wine left you with a headache and that you preferred rum. He evolved to notice how your tone of voice got sweeter when you talked to children or animals, and more serious when it came to the safety of the three crows. And suddenly, as if Kaz already knew this as he knew the sky was blue, he knew how to say how your eyes sparkled when you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin.

In that second, looking at you from the other side of the agitated club that turned into a celebration with dance and music, the world became suspended for a moment. The music became just an echoing, blurry noise, the images turned to slow motion and the air seemed to change in pitch. You, who laughed and speen round in Jesper's arms amid so many people who did the same thing, were the only one who starred as the main attraction.

In that minute, when the breath was slow and lyrical, and the air had a beauty tone, Kaz's eyes caught the exact moment when a beam of sunlight hit your face, shining on your skin as if you were one pirate tropical treasure. In a burst, a second of insanity, like a violin string that burst at the apice of the song, he felt that there was nothing else in the world worth seeing that was not you.

It was a scary, terrifying discovery. Something that made him freeze from head to toe, and all the speed in the world came back so fast that Kaz felt dizzy. He pressed his covered hand to the crow's beak of his cane, as if he needed a reminder of reality. Something that would wake him up from those hellish sensations.

- -

The months passed after that fateful afternoon. Kaz avoided staying close to you any longer than necessary and would strongly and vigorously scold every change of tone within himself whenever he saw you.

He didn't know what those sensations meant, but he also didn't want to find out. He liked challenges and responsibilities, but being around you was proving to be more than he could take. Your presence ignited him in a cold and warm fire, promising a future full of unfulfilled infinite wills. From pain, impotence and doomed to failure. Any feeling for you would be more of a punishment than anything else. The only solution was to get it out of your head.

Of course, he had been trying to do just that since he met you.

But again, the universe did not seem to want to give up from he. Not so easily.

Kaz had to take you along to make a deal with a merchant who was more impassable than a rock. Kaz had tried to negotiate with him before (since he couldn't take the strength or rob what he wanted) and all his efforts were in vain. So, he appealed for the last weapon. The person who always had a natural gift whit other people and always had a real smile that made anybody feel like... as if happiness really existed.

You.

"I'm glad it's hot" You commented, while walking next to Kaz "I don’t like the cold."

How did he know that you would say just that? That was so you. Warm, sweet and cozy things were the embodiment of what you were. It was logical that you preferred the heat. So different from him that, instead of you, enjoyed the cold. Liked the rains and storms, relaxed with the moonlight and felt less tense with the midnight winter breeze.

Kaz understood your personality as he understood the very lines of his hands. You were wild, bordering on reckless, you acted before thinking and you always loved anything that aroused adrenaline. You ran like no one else, jumped from one horse's cell to another, decided to catch the largest number of targets just because you wanted the thrill of fighting five against one. Anything calm, serene and peaceful stirred your restless personality. And Kaz knew exactly your level of restlessness from the way your leg was constantly jumping when you had to sit still for more than a few minutes.

You were a free spirit, forged in the heart of the sun and in the heat of summer. While he was limited by his own body and built in the heart of winter and frozen by the cold of the sea. Anything between you was doomed to fail even before you two met. Kaz Brekker knew this very well.

“He is late.” You grunted, your leg was already starting to jumping when you two spent a measly ten minutes waiting for the man.

You looked back and seemed to find it interesting, because Kaz saw your eyes shine.

"Let's go there?" You pointed, and Kaz had to turn around to see that you were referring to a coffee shop.

Crowded with sweets in the window for a change. Why was he not surprised?

“No.” He turned forward again, both hands on the cane.

"So I go over there and come back quickly."

“Y/n" he just said in a warning tone, giving you a scolding look.

You mumbled something he didn't identify, turned around again and did your best to be quiet. Five minutes passed before that merchant arrived, and Kaz can perfectly follow the change in his posture, change in the man eyes when you greeted him with that summer voice and sunny smile.

It was so vibrant, so vivid that, for a second, Kaz found himself slightly swayed by all the brilliance you emanated. Pulled towards your like an animal needing the warmth of the sun.

It didn't take much for the man to sign and agree with everything Kaz said and imposed. In fact, he suspected that if he had asked him to give him his bank password, the man would have been happy to do so.

"Can we go in the coffee shop now?” You commented as soon as the man left, still turning around to look at you as much as possible.

Kaz restrained the glaring urge to roll his eyes, but he had just landed a very lucrative business just and exclusively because you agreed to help. Even though you didn't gain anything from it. So, if he had to go with you to a goddamn coffee shop so he wouldn't feel like a petty profiteer, he would go to the goddamn coffee shop.

Kaz just walked towards the place, and the wide, summery smile you gave may have he missed a few heartbeats.

Stop it!

Once inside the damn store, you scanned the menu that hung on the wall.

“I never took this one.” You commented, pointing to what appeared to be a very sweet mix of drink. Something that involved ice cream and chocolate with something else.

It was not the kind of comment that had an answer, and Kaz was still engaged in the mission to stay away from you. But he thought that statement was just the reason why you wouldn't order that drink. But, just as you always threw any worldview Kaz had in the latrine, you asked for just that. His eyes were bloodshot with astonishment.

“Why are you going to order something you don't know if you like it?” He asked as soon as you got the drink and paid for it.

"How am I supposed to know if something is good if I never try it?” You said casually, both of you going out of the store. “Wanna try out?”

You held out for he the plastic cup that was covered by a lid that had a hole in the middle, where a fat, transparent straw came out. Kaz looked at you as if you had created a second head.

“Come on, you'll never know if you like it if you don't taste it.” The two of you stopped, you still holding the glass gently towards his mouth.

“No.” Kaz shook his head.

“Come ooon.” You insisted, a petulant and amusing smile plastered on your face.

"No."

You shook the glass, holding it out once more. This time, Kaz gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"You're not going to stop insisting until I take this thing, are you?"

You laughed, with a triumphant and friendly smile “I'm glad you know me so well”

Kaz rolled his eyes, snatching the glass from your hand and bringing the hellish straw to his mouth. Hell, he felt so stupid pulling that stupid drink through that straw. As soon as the sweet liquid invaded his tongue, an explosion of flavors flooded his palate, causing him to remain unresponsive for a moment.

"You liked it!" But just as he unveiled all of your lookes, you knew how to unveil all of his.

Kaz handed you the glass. “Absurdly sweet."

"You liked that I know."

You joked and, for a second, you had aroused he a desire to smile. A succinct curve in lips. With your sunny smiles and summer expressions, you looked like you were out of an enchanted forest inhabited by mystical creatures. Sun nymphs. Maybe Kaz would even have let himself go lightly if, when you took the glass back, your lips had not wrapped around the tip of the straw.

Exactly where his mouth was a second ago.

He pulse quickened so fast that it made the blood burn in his veins. It was impossible not to look down at delicate mouth, the subtle but destabilizing curvature in the center of your lower lip. Suddenly, he was out of breath, his body numb and his heart stopped beating for a second before accelerating to an alarming level.

Everything became hot, stuffy. The world spun away, out of focus, out of existence, leading he on a waltz unlike anything Kaz had ever felt before.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty hands and scammer. Someone trapped by his own body and traumas, unable to allow himself to enjoy human contact. But, hell, he was still a man. And in that moment, in that insane moment, he wanted to pretend, even for a few seconds, that what he wanted was within his reach.

Kaz thought he understood the desire: an attraction. He thought he knew what lust was: a wish that people felt. He had seen countless examples on his bar counter, drunk and chattering about what it was like to want a woman, to long for her. He thought he understood.

And he found that he didn't understand anything.

The desire was a hot and feverish whirlwind that shivered he from head to toe, with dizzying speed, and dragged everything towards perdition, below any intellect, any rationality. Rationally, he shouldn't have thought you were even more beautiful. But he did. He shouldn't feel his breath catch, but he did.

He felt as if he were walking on a narrow suspended board. One misstep and it would be the end of it. Hiding his disturbing thoughts, Kaz looked away from you.

He was ruined for the rest of his life.

[gaiuswrites]

World's Best

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: Not every day is easy. Frankie makes it better.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.2k~

Warnings/tags: smut, vague-ish descriptions of depression/mental health, hurt/comfort, fluff

Notes: Do y'all ever get into a funk and then attempt to write yourself out of one? Well, this is the v self-indulgent product of said instance heh. I have tagged a random assortment of potentionally interested people but obvi no pressure? idk? :) Sending so much love and well wishes to you guys. x

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

A sea of knotted sheets spans between you—as tangled as your legs—too tired, too leaden to unweave. The fan rotates in the corner, blowing stale air your way every few clicks. You dangle a foot off the bed, skin prickling as the weak breeze sweeps over you and a bead of sweat licks from your knee to slope down your calf. Morning sun leaks through the window— the finch perched on the tree just outside it chirping once, twice, before flitting off.

You’ve been reading the Sunday paper for a solid twenty minutes—which, in all honesty, is an overstatement; you started and quickly abandoned the Sudoku after a measly ten, and you’ve been staring at the same sentence in the local section for the other half, blinklessly hovering over the fine print.

You’re not here today. Not all of you.

There’s this sinking feeling, hollowing you out and unmaking you. It’s as if something unseeable is oozing over you - dripping - something treacle, something thick. You’re far away from yourself—far from the cornflower blue walls and the framed photos hanging on them—the happy faces in the pictures smiling back at you— far from the plants basking in the tines of filtered light by the sill, far from the body lying beside you.

You’re not always this way. Not every day drags like an inky smear, your mind meandering sluggishly in circles, holding you hostage in a prison of your own making; but you can’t say it’s foreign to you either. It’s old, familiar—like that sweater in your closet you’ve had for centuries and rarely wear, but can’t bring yourself to get rid of. You know it well, this slog—you have unwillingly memorized it’s sodden intricacies, and today you feel it. You feel every single one of your days—each grey hour— weighing heavy on your very bones.

heavy heavy

heavier, still.

If you’re not careful, you’ll sink straight through the mattress. You’ll nestle deep into the springs and make a home in the down. You’ll sleep there until you become it. Comfortable. Catatonic.

Frankie sips his coffee. He doesn’t look up from the email he’s skimming. “What’s wrong?”

The baritone of your boyfriend’s voice sucks you back to the present—to the tick of the clock marking the seconds, the whir of the fan. The paper crinkles as you lay it to your chest—big eyes feigning ignorance as you blink up at him, chewing your lip. “Hmm?”

“Baby, I know that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve got on,” he replies, “that’s your ‘I’m-upset-and-I’m-trying-to-hide-it’ face.’”

“I-” you frown, “no it’s not.” Gingerly, you pat a hand around your temple, your cheek, as if you could see your expression through touch.

“Uh huh.” Frankie rolls his digit upon the mousepad, clicking and scrolling down the webpage, and your vision glazes over again—ugly thoughts fogging up the panels of your mind—

“You gonna talk to me about it?”

You blink, swallowing, “nothing to talk about.” You flap the paper, ironing out the pleats, and scan for that pesky paragraph you never managed to finish.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly, bringing the mug to his lips and drinking with an all too obvious slurp.

“Really, I’m fine,” you say weakly. You’re not that convincing—you barely convince yourself.

“Sure, sweetheart. If you say so.”

He’s too casual; he’s letting it all go too easily and God, he’s gotten good at this—at coaxing the truth out of you. He doesn’t even have to try any more. He’s so kind and open and sincere, all he has to do is crack the door ajar—tempt you with an inch of space, with only a sliver of leeway—and immediately you want to plunge through it and chase after him, like a dog and a bone.

He makes you want to share; not because of what he says, but by everything he doesn’t—the welcoming gaps he leaves you with, the gaps you’re urged to fill. This happens every time—it’s pretty damn annoying, actually. You’re so miserably predictable. After three and a half years together, sometimes you think Frankie might know you better than you know yourself.

A scary thought—wonderful, too.

“I’m just-” You run a hand over your face, pressing into the bridge of your nose and you grunt, frustrated. Exhausted. “I’m just tired.”

Frankie settles his coffee cup on the hill of his sternum, closing his laptop quietly. He swivels his head to you, hair mussing into the wall.

“Of anything in particular?” he asks, linen soft.

“No, yes—I don’t know,” you heave—an errant thing fluttering around in your chest as you fold the newspaper, letting it float to the floor with a splat. “It’s just-” you worry the inside of your cheek raw, fumbling with the blur of your emotions. You shake your head. “It’s just a bad brain day.” Your voice is small as you slump into him, letting your body go limp.

“I’m sorry I get like this. I’m okay—I’ll be okay,” you mumble, face burrowed into his arm. He smells summered, like sweat and heat and the promise of long days fading into even longer nights, and you take a heady drag, inhaling his scent.

You hear him sigh, stretching as he sets the mug and computer down on the side table. He shifts back to you, snaking an arm under your body as you coil your own around his center, hugging him close.

“You know, it’s alright if you’re not,” Frankie murmurs into your hair, planting a kiss at the crown of your head. “And you know you don’t have to hide from me when you aren’t.” His thumb finds your arm, the chewed nail bed scratching soothing circles along your skin.

Your gut somersaults, flipping and purring, and all you can do is press your lips to the cottoned shoulder of his tee shirt—the one with the holes in the collar and motor oil stain on the hem; all you can do is tighten your grasp, wringing around his cozy waist.

“And you know that nothing you say is gonna scare me away, right? I’m always going to be here for you.” Frankie gives your forearm a reassuring squeeze.

God, this man.

You nuzzle further into his chest—snuggled and swaddled in the safety of his warmth—and you mumble something incoherent, muffled against his relaxed body. His beard catches on your fly-aways as he dips to hear you better. “What was that honey?”

“I said,” you crane your neck, lifting out of his side, “you really are the ‘world’s best uncle’.”

A ripple of confusion twists over his features before you bat your eyes up to meet his, shooting a glance over to that exact phrase wrapping itself around the ceramic cup beside him.

You got stuck with it at some terrible white elephant exchange last Christmas. It’s fucking tacky and aggressively large—not even you - you, in all your caffeine dependency - can chug that much coffee fast enough in one sitting without it going cold— and neither of you have any nieces or nephews to speak of…

Naturally, it’s become your favorite mug.

Frankie barks out a laugh, his stomach flexing against your grasp. “Oh yeah? Is that all I am?” he smirks, a glint of mischievousness reflecting in his irises as he bores down at you.

You quirk an eyebrow, a coy tug blooming across your lips. “I dunno,” you drawl sweetly, “you going to prove me otherwise?”

His face is split into a grin now, wide and aching and unnecessarily endearing. His hair is a mess, wavy tufts jutting out every which way, and his eyelids are still puffy from what little slumber he was lucky enough to get in your hot, cramped apartment.

You really can’t keep putting it off—you need to buy an AC unit.

His focus dances from your eyes to your mouth, breath hitching as he watches you skip your tongue over the plush mound there. “I just might,” he growls playfully, maneuvering you onto your back with one broad swoop, pinning you to the bed.

/

He makes love to you like a man unburdened - untouched - by time. He fucks into you slowly, unhurriedly—at a pace that’s mind numbingly measured and patient. Frankie devastates you, dragging himself through your walls from head to hilt, letting you feel every ridge, every vein of him; filling you up so impossibly well—his thick cock sauntering in and out, and in and out again. Each roll of his hips makes you gasp, his blunt tip brushing against that deep, uncharted chasm within you that tempts you into oblivion. Your legs are locked around him, crossed at the ankles, and the perspiration at the pits of your knees slicks his sides.

Frankie’s palms dimple the fitted sheet as he brackets your head, burying himself into the crook of your neck. He moans—hot breath ghosting over the prickled skin there, babbling disjointed strings of guttural praise into your ear.

Fuck baby—fuck you feel good

How’d I get so lucky, how’d I-

God, you’re a— fuck

You’ve got the perfect pussy—made for me

Made for me, made for me, made for-

You turn your head and capture his mouth with your own, whimpering into him as he nips at your bottom lip and bites. You scrape your fingers through his scalp, pulling at his locks, and Frankie whines a tortured noise—giving an especially hard thrust that pries a yelp from your throat. He rears his head back, catching your gaze, a concerned line creased into his brow. “Y-You okay?”

“No- nono, yes Frankie. Again, right there,” you beg, lashes fluttering.

He darkens—the timbre of his voice made husky and raw as he drinks in the sights and sounds of you mewling for him, splayed and needy. “You like that?” Frankie drives into you again, sharp and searing as he bottoms out, the smattering of curls at the base of him soaked with your gloss. “You need it hard, baby? You want it rough?”

You whimper, clawing desperately at the nape of his neck. “I just—I just want you, all of you,” you pant as you hold his stare—the gorgeous, chestnut gleam of it—and the wordless expression that crests over his features makes you want to cry. The precious indent in his cheek, the stubble littering his jaw, his sculpted nose and clever lips, the sad rings under his eyes—the grooves he thinks you don’t notice, the grooves he tries to mask by always taking care of you, always putting you first, even when he shouldn’t.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful—he’s so beautiful you could weep.

“You have me,” he rasps breathlessly, bowing to meet you in a messy whirl of tongue and teeth before breaking away—forcing himself up off his hands and back onto his shins. He hooks an elbow under your knee, letting the other frame the outside of his hip. “I’m right here—you have me, you have me-”

Frankie’s hips are frantic now, pulsing in short, strong bursts as he grinds into you. He dips a hand to your center, pad of his thumb working erratic, sloppy flicks over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit. Your feet arch, the muscles there constricting as the tension in you mounts.

“Babe.” You’re whining now, vulnerable and shaking and fuck, you’re going to come apart—any moment now, any unbearable second, you’ll snap. “F-Frankie, baby oh god—”

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes screwing shut as you shatter. Like a vase crashing onto kitchen tile, you break into a million jagged fragments. Your cunt seizes, legs spasming against him as he fucks you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for the tight contractions of your heat to yank him right off that same ledge. The both of you—tumbling and fracturing into terrible, perfect shards—to be intermingled and scattered among each other’s glass pieces.

Indiscernible. The same.

When you glue yourself back together again, you will find parts of him there - here, within you - filling your jigsawed cracks like golden ore.

Frankie slips out of you with a squelch and a huffed groan, collapsing to the mattress in a panting heap. His cum dribbles from your apex and you shiver at the feeling of it—at the feeling of him, warm and wet and lingering inside you. He rests his cheek on your breast while you both catch your breath—rising, falling. Waxing, waning. Two pitter-pattering hearts beating in time.

The sheets have been sloughed, lazy and forgotten, to a crumpled pile on the wood floor and the steam once rising from the mug on the nightstand has long since disappeared. It’s too muggy for you two to be this entwined—his leg draped over you, a big arm slung across your belly—but neither of you dare move. Neither of you have the energy, never mind the desire.

The clock whispers in the morning quiet.

A new bird claims the branch the finch left—she sings now, roosting there in the birch.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily, drawing patterns into the valley of his spine, mapping out his freckles and moles and scars. “Thank you,” you say. Thank you for putting up with me, thank you for understanding me, thank you for listening even when I cannot speak. “I love you so much.”

Gently, silently, Frankie tilts his head, bristled hair peppering your flesh as he mattes your skin with his lips; laving along your breasts, across your clavicle and up the plain of your neck—each kiss a response, each kiss a truth.

You don’t have to apologize

You don’t have to thank me

I love you

I love you

I’m right here

I love you

tags:

@pedros-mustache @roxypeanut @frannyzooey @djarinsbeskar @read-and-rec @keeper0fthestars @krissology @greatcircle79

[doctorbeth]

Stripes the 50 year old tiger

This will be a longer post, because it’s all about the details, and there was a lot of going back and forth with photos and emails to get Stripes and his stripes just right.  So be sure you’re comfy when you sit down to read it. :-)

***************

Stripes person first wrote to me back in December about her tiger, Stripes, and his companion RedEye the snake.  Both were starting to feel their age, but as she said,

“ As you can see Stripes is in the most need of repairs. Personally, I’m guessing that a full recovering is needed, but I’m certainly no expert and will follow your advice.  Here are some pics which show Stripes fur disappearing and soon he will be bald.  Amazingly he has no damage that I can find. His ears need some stuffing, but they have never been tall, firm standing Teddy Bear ears.”

Here are the diagnosis photos she sent:

As you can see, his belly section was pretty good, but his furry parts were wearing and fading.  His person really wanted his fur recovered, in an orangier rather than tanner fur, and she opted for him to have a spa too.

Here he is in his bubble bath:

Once he was dry, he got restuffed and of course, got a heart with a bit of his original stuffing.  Here’s his heart being made:

Then it was time to choose furs.  As some of you know who’ve been reading for a while, usually with tigers we use a solid fur of the preferred background color, then add the stripes by hand afterwards.  Here were the best fur options:

His person opted for the orangier, furrier one.

Stripes got recovered, and some smaller wounds on his belly were sewn.  Then, it was time for hand striping.  I did some basic  striping, and then sent photos for feedback:

His person’s first response was:

Beth, you’ve made me cry at work.  I’m absolutely over the moon with Stripes new look!!!  Holy cats he’s looking beautiful!!  You are AMAZING!

But I was asking for striping feedback, and she happily provided it:

The stripes.  Thank you for being so conservative. :) I would like to add some more stripes. I’ve included an updated pic that shows where I would like some stripes added.

Tail:   Could you put 2 stripes in a ring pattern around the tail? They continue the black spots you started. I also noticed with other Gund tigers that the ring was painted at a slight angle or sprayed as 2 “halves”, not a straight ring that looked like a raccoon’s tail. (pics)  I know that there was more black at the tip of the tail, but I don’t think the whole tip was black.

Back Leg:   I’ve continued your 3 spots into stripes.

Body:  I’ve added 2 stripes, but if you will notice stripe #2 is in the shape of a ‘V”. (I remember this detail as a child)  The stripes do NOT have to line up with the fabric underneath.  They didn’t before.  :D

Face: I’ve added a short stripe above Stripes’ right eye. This detail always gave him a slight serious look without being mean. (not a lot of slant to the line, if any) I have always loved this detail about him.  And I’ve elongated the stripe on his forhead.

Beth, I’m pretty sure we will be adding some more stripes to the back, especially his head but I thought we might tackle this bit first.

She closed with:

Again, I just absolutely can’t thank you enough for your beautiful and loving work on my best friend. I have been showing people the before and after pics for the last 5 hours.  I’m so happy!!!

So back to drawing stripes on Stripes I went.  Here are the next batch of photos:

Stripes person was thrilled:

Stripes looks spectacular!!  I mean he is just awesome with the stripes that you’ve filled out.

She wanted just one more stripe.  She sent a photo, but it was in another format, so I won’t put it here, but she also described what she wanted very well:

So I just have 1 more stripe for you.  If you look at my pic, you will see that I’ve drawn a line over the small black dot that is on his forehead.  In the last pic you sent me you can still see that it’s just a spot and not a stripe.  Could you lengthen that spot into a stripe for me?

Please note the position. When you are seated facing Stripes, this stripe includes/starts at the black spot and runs towards the right.  You have a pretty stripe that’s higher on the head already placed on the left so this one goes off to the right and is the same length as that one.

Adjustment made, I sent another photo (you can see the printout with her line instruction next to him):

Her response:

Perfection Achieved!  I’m so so happy!!!!   How many exclamation points can I put in an email to show you how perfect Stripes is!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So Stripes got packed up and headed home to a grateful human and snake.  Here he is at home with his pal, RedEye:

His person was soooo happy!  She wrote a very long thank you, with a history of Stripes and RedEye, and I don’t want to edit it, so I’m copying it entirely here for you to read.  But you can skip it if you want and just know she was happy!

Hi Beth,

Sit back and relax.  This may be a little bit of a long happy read.  :D   Please feel free to use any content or pics from my emails for your blog.

I waited anxiously for Stripes to arrive.  Yes, my husband signed for the box and I couldn’t wait to get home!

And so the moment has arrived.  I brought Stripes best friend Redeye in from the bedroom to help me open the package. We open,  I close my eyes dig in past the packing peanuts and pull out our best friend.  Oh My Goodness!  He is beautiful! bright! and colorful! He practically glows! I see his face. Yes, yes! It’s Stripes!  I see the same face I’ve gazed into and loved for 50 years. And that’s when the tears start. Crying, mouth open in shock but my husband says he’s never seen me happier.  ..After many long years, I can finally cuddle my friend again.

Beth you have given me back something I thought I would never have again.  I love Stripes so, but I couldn’t, didn’t dare to pet him or cuddle him. I had to be so gentle, so afraid that I was doing more damage to him. But now all that is over!  I can sleep with my buddy by my side. I can take him on vacations again!  I’m tearing up just writing this.  I can’t express my joy…absolute joy over the work you have done. Stripes looks like a beautiful and bright toy again.  Thank you Beth.  Thank you so very much.

…And I’ll be sending Redeye to you some time in February.  I’ll be sure to email you first to start the process.

And here’s a little history about Stripes.  Stripes was a Christmas present in 1969. I have always loved tigers and I was in deep love the moment I saw him. He has enjoyed play tea parties with me, and watched drive-in movies sitting in the back window. He has looked over the candy hauls that I collected during Halloween and been in a beautiful oak tree during the crisp dry autumn. (Carefully placed on a towel, but he needed to experience a tree. He is a tiger after all.)   He has been with me in Japan for a year and traveled all over the US northwest  looking out of a train window. And he has done all these things with Redeye by his side.

--But let’s face the facts, in the last few years my friend was disappearing before my eyes. There was good fortune that his seams were okay but the fur was coming off. His stripes were completely gone in areas. He was looking more yellow everywhere. And I dared only to pat him. That’s when I began to search for help to restore my friend and so I found Realms of Gold on the internet.

Beth has been wonderful, corresponding with emails and working out details by sending pictures back and forth. She listened to my input and was absolutely amazing at applying the stripes in the right places. We actually discussed exactly where to put them.  :D  I trust Beth’s skills so much that I will be sending Stripes best friend Redeye along soon.  He was amazed and so happy with Stripes look, that he can’t wait to go to Realms of Gold!

Okay Beth, this may be a little serious but I wanted to express my honest feelings, and let you know why this has been so important to me.

With my 2 stuffed animals loosing hair and looking tired a sobering thought occurred to me. If something happened to me, what would happen to them? We have no children to give them to. We can’t donate them because being so worn out, no one would take them. And the thought that they might end up in a garbage bin was too much. Of course for me, my goal was to pet, play and enjoy them again.  That goes without saying.  But now, seeing Stripes beautiful bright colors, I am happy and secure in knowing that years from now, I can donate or will him to a children’s home where he will continue to be loved. (I have several friends who grew up in orphanages and we think it’s a wonderful idea.)

Thank you so much Beth!!!!!!

I don’t know about all of you, but that made me smile all day. :-)

[nekowriteshaikyuu]

 - mistletoe with middle blockers -

 𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕒 , 𝕜𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕠 , 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕦 ,

 — slight nsfw, fluff, not proofread

 word count : i’m so lazy to copy and paste so uh..alot u^u

 a/n : it was so difficult having little to no connection at home, but all’s good now ! anyways this was pretty last minute but nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy this !! decided to create this after impulsively buying the christmas dlc for mystic messenger aksksk. also i tried to write for more than one person so yeah, do give me any feedback so i could improve:) ngl writing kuroos’ is so heartwarming, his one is the best out all three uwu (that’s why is a little longer lolol)  anyways enjoy and merry christmas !! 

—

𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕒 𝕜𝕖𝕚

he’s not really into christmas because of the blinding lights that littered everywhere, so he often stays home

his house is no where near festive so you’d hang some decorations every single day you come over.

on christmas itself, you saved the mistletoe last to kind of give off a finishing touch

tsukki would just mock you when you constantly jump to hang the mistletoe by the door, in the end he helped you and sighed because he know what’s coming.

“yaay !!” you threw your hands up in the air, eyeing on the last deco that was put up. tsukki leaned by the door, hands crossed over as he stared blankly on the floor. inching a little closer, you looked at him with your gleaming eyes, hinting him.

“i’m not kissing you.” he said coldly, walking away from the door to the kitchen. you pout as you trail along behind him, begging for even just a peck on the cheek.

“tsukki please ~ it’s christmas !!” your arms cling onto his as you rubbed your head onto it. tsukki wasn’t reacting much but inside, he’s dying by how adorable you were to desperately beg for a kiss. he wouldn’t mind kissing you, but he know very well that the minute his lips touch yours, there’s no way it will end then and there. he sighed as he took a sip of water, slowly getting annoyed by your constant whine and you pulling his sweater.

“stop pulling my shirt.” you eventually let loose before stomping into the room and closing the door shut, the mistletoe dropping to the ground. tsukki slowly made his way back and noticed the fallen mistletoe. picking it up, he opened the door slowly before hanging it back. you sat on the bed, face smooshed into the pillow as you laid completely still. he sighed, before walking up to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out.

you groaned, trying to pry from his grip but only for him to tightened it. he stopped by the door, having a moment of thoughts

“you don’t have to do it, i’m not asking anymo-” you couldn’t finish your sentence before tsukki turns to face you, cupping your cheeks and pecking your lips. you stood there, your face burning up and turning red. tsukki pushed his hair backwards before picking you up and throwing you to the bed.

“i knew this was gonna happen, you’re gonna accept it no matter what.” taking his glasses off, he glared down at you, his brows furrowing. 

what a night you could say ~

—

𝕜𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕠 𝕥𝕖𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕦

this guy- istg. 

any mistletoe, like any, EVEN THE ONES PLACED INFRONT OF A BUSY MALL, he’d sneakily give you a kiss.

your face will burn like hell but aint gonna lie though you liked it alot

he’ll go out to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close to him, giving you a very long and passionate kiss

so long sometimes people just awes the both of you and wish you both the best of luck (you’re face will be as red as a tomato by now)

every year, he’d always hand you a gift after kissing below a mistletoe, just to spice things up (what a gentleman uwu)

maybe this year...i guess you could say you’ll never forget this year’s christmas. ever.

walking around the mall with your hand intertwined with your boyfriend’s, it was the most romantic date out of all the dates you’ve went with him. you could have spent your day at his place, binge watching every christmas movie he downloaded online. but he felt a little special and decided to bring you out to see the lights and do some shopping here and there.

you stopped after eyeing on the huge christmas tree deco that was centered at the mall. you pulled out your phone, dragging kuroo in as you snapped pictures of the both of you with the beautifully lit tree as your background. you heart melt as you take short glances to your boyfriend who was smiling as you snapped the pictures. after a few takes, you switched the camera around to take pictures of the lights and your surrounding. you were so engrossed with the atmosphere you weren’t aware of what’s was anticipating upon you.

you felt a hand gripping onto your arm and pulling you back. turning, kuroo only smiled before his eyes looked up. you followed his eyes to see the little plant hanging above the both of you. your cheeks grew red, knowing very well that he’d devour your lips even if you both are in public. kuroo took your phone from your hands, pocketing it into his coat. his hand snaked around your waist, while the other cupped the side of your cheek. his face slowly inched closer to yours, feeling the tip of your noses touching each other. your eyes were shut close as you felt his soft lips colliding with yours. as per usual, the kiss was slow, passionate, filled with love. you could hear couples behind aweing the both of you. a rush of embarrassment started to creep upon you, making you try to pull away from the kiss. it only made kuroo deepened the kiss, his grip around your waist tightening. after a solid seven minutes of endless love, he broke it off, his eyes looking straight into yours. you gave him a weak smile, still slightly embarrassed that this all occurred in public. he tucked your hair that was covering your face, lifting your chin up slightly higher to see your every feature.

“i love, y/n.” he said cheekily. you only lightly punched his chest, before saying it back. he took a step back away from you, pulling a small black box from the inside of his coat. oh my god. is this really happening? is it what you think it is? you watched every move he did, where he got down on one of his knee, slowly opening the box revealing a diamond ring nicely tucked in the sponge placed inside. a swam of people soon crowd around, some with their phones out recording.

“my dearest y/n, spending my high school years with you till this very day has never once been a bore to me. every moment, i cherish it. every memory, i kept it secure within my heart. you are my everything, and for that, i want to create more memories with you, each better than the one before. “ he took the ring out the box, reaching out for your hand.

“y/n, will you marry me ?” you could the lights reflecting from his eyes, his smile never leaving his face. everyone crowding around slowly waited for your respond, some clenching their hands into each other in hopes of this public engagement to be successful. you giggled, a tear shedding from your eyes. you looked at kuroo, stepping a little closer to him, before nodding with a smile pasted on your face.

“i would love to.” the crowd was cheering, applauding as kuroo slipped the ring onto your finger. he got up from his kneel, pulling you in for a hug. you sighed in relief as you bury your face onto his chest.

“god, this is embarrassing !!” you screamed into his chest, bringing him to laugh while caressing your hair. 

hands down, this was the best christmas day ever.

—

𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕚

honestly, he has never once walk by a mistletoe.

n e v e r

either he avoids it or just pays no attention to it

with that, he doesn’t get why couples kiss in certain locations that has a small plant hanging above them.

you thought you could use this as an advantage to get him to give you a little kiss.

you went to the deco shop and bought a mistletoe, hiding it in your bag as you went back into the dorm he was living in.

you waited for a perfect time before you could pull  it out and kiss him

but i guess not all plans work out, huh ?

“satori !!” you cheered as he opened the front door, his smile growing just as you arrived. he let you in, closing the door behind him before plopping back in bed, reading his weekly shounen jump magazine. now is the perfect time. you quietly took the mistletoe out of your back, tiptoeing you way behind tendou who was busy reading. you held the mistletoe above in between both of you, preparing youself. you cleared your throat loud and clear for tendou to hear, which worked and he turned around.

you inched closer, eyes close as you slowly move closer to tendou to kiss him.

“wakatoshi ?” he said before moving out of your way, making you fall face flat onto his pillow. you groaned, turning to realise wakatoshi was standing at the door. tendou walked up to him, conversing away as you lay on the bed, upset that your plan did not work. you toyed with the mistletoe on your hand, tempting to throw it away. you were downplayed the idea of kissing him. despite dating him for over 5 months now, he never really showed much affection aside from hugs or just head pats.

after a while, ushijima left the dorm after handing tendou a gift. tendou turned to see you in the midst of chucking the mistletoe in the bin, which caught his attention.

“oh ? isn’t that the plant thingy that couples kiss under ?” you were surprised he knew despite not seeing one is real life. he walked over to you, taking it from your hands and observing it. he was mesmerised, fondling with it for a while. he placed ushijima’s gift on the table before resuming to inspect the little ornament.

you started to grow a little annoyed that we was taking too long playing with it. your hands were crossed and one of your knee popped out as you spoke in a very cold manner.

“look, it’s trash, just throw it out.” to your surprised, tendou stretches his arm that was holding the mistletoe up high above, before his lips pecking yours. his sudden action kind of caught you off guard. you could not react fast before he smashed his lips back to yours, a hand snaked around your waste to pull you closer. your hands cupped his cheeks as you slowly melt from the kiss. you’ve anticipated this long enough and now you got it.

tendou broke the kiss, chucking the mistletoe straight into the bin before pushing you down to the bed. he hovered above you, his hands caging you. he lowered his body closer to yours. you shiver slightly which made him grin from your reaction.

“you were hoping for this weren’t you, hmph?” he whispered to your ear. this was a whole new side of tendou you’re experiencing. however, you were rather fond of his more dominant side, instead of his cheerful loud side he portrayed since the beginning of your relationship. 

your noses touch, his lips slightly brushing over yours. he got back up, removing his shirt before tossing it to the ground and caging you back with his hands.

“i guess our christmas is gonna be a wild one, huh?” he giggled before nibbling on your earlobe. 

i’ll let your imagination roam further~

but let’s just say, you were satisfied at the end despite your plan backfiring<3

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Late Night Thoughts

Word Count: 2,956 Rating: E Ship: Kiyomi/Madara/Tobirama Characters: Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama, Fujihara Kiyomi (OC) Genre: Smut ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ It was late- far too late for any civilian to be walking about alone at night. The streets were empty, save for the lone shinobi rushing home from a mission, or leaving in the dead of night to attend to a mission passed down from their kage. The occasional stray dog or cat would dart across the street and into an alleyway, chasing after it’s prey. Quiet; calm- one could even venture to say it was peaceful, though that word was nearly taboo to speak within a shinobi village. To speak of peace is to bring the omen of war to the border.

And no one wanted a war, not now.

A sigh slipped past ruby painted lips as Fujihara Kiyomi settled against the railing of the balcony. The hotel was nice- then again, she’d expect nothing less of the Hokage. Tomorrow, she’d meet with Hashirama to decide whether or not Konoha could offer a decent trade route through the Land of Fire- something that was debated quite a lot. Kiri needed the wood; Konoha needed the iron ore that Kiri had within it’s mountains. These negotiations were tiring, but she was good at her job. She’d always been good at negotiating- her life, others lives.

It was fun- dangerous, but fun.

Her gaze drifted from the horizon to the streets, watching as the Hokage finally left his office, his little retinue in tow. Uzumaki Mito- a beautiful woman with a terrifying beast that lived within. She was fierce, respected, a terror on the field. Senju Tobirama- his younger brother who managed to master all five elements; he was handsome, but cold. Smart, too. And at the back, Uchiha Madara, who laughed at something Hashirama had said. Now that was a man- the long hair, the prowess both on and off of the field, the reputation alone was terrifying, but the man himself? Not as terrifying, not off of the field.

One could even say he was handsome.

She watched like a wraith in the shadows as they passed beneath her balcony before rounding a corner, Madara going left, the Senju clan going right. If she squinted, she could see the Uchiha clan compound from her room. How peculiar- then again, all of the clans here were spread out.

No one was close to one another. Smart; clans needed their space, lest they begin to feud over land once more.

But the Uchiha Clan, from what she had gathered in her three weeks of being here, were treated differently- as if they had created some sort of awful creature and were now being shunned for it. It made her skin crawl in an unpleasant sort of way.

Konoha could act as if it were high and mighty, better than the other nations because it looks like it has its act together, but scrape away the surface layer of varnish, and you see the painting for what it truly is. This village was no different from Kiri- and time would certainly tell the truth of that.

She gathered herself, slipping back into her rooms and closing the doors behind her, drawing the sheer curtains. The moonlight spilled softly through the thin fabric, illuminating the room in a gentle silver light. Konoha summers were different from Kiri summers; the air was neither dry nor wet. A strange mixture of the two that left her night robe clinging to her skin like it was trying to become one with her. Disgusting. She felt restless; sleep would not come, not yet. Her mind was clouded with a hundred different thoughts; it made tension rise in her neck. She could go to the Onsen, but given the late hour, it would be difficult to get in.

Scowling, she all but flopped onto her bed, groaning into the mattress. If Jushiro were here, he'd already have her pinned to the mattress, fucking her until she was sobbing. And then he'd clean up and go to his own room, because they slept separately. Their marriage was not one of love- they did love one another, but not in any form of romanticism.

But that wasn't what she wanted- not what she craved. Sure, she wanted to be pinned down and made to sob- she always enjoyed that. She enjoyed many different things. But she wanted more than just one quick round. She wanted to be taken, to be held, to be used until she forgot her own name. Now THAT would put her to sleep without issue.

Rolling over, she studied the ceiling for a moment. It wasn't as if she didn't come prepared- she did! In many senses of the word! She wouldn’t dare go to the Entertainment District that Konoha had up and working- no, she couldn’t be seen there. It would ruin her reputation. She could henge, but fucking with a henge on never felt the same- too detached, not truly her skin.

Nimble fingers worked on the knot of her robe, making quick work of it before she peeled the robe from her form, a pleased noise escaping as the slightly cooled air of the bedroom graced her skin at long last. No bindings wrapped around her chest, her breasts free. She ached- her ribs ached as her hands reached up, rubbing over the slowly fading red marks of her bindings. She couldn’t wait to return home, where she did not have to bind beneath the layers of her formal robes. But for now, she couldn’t walk around unbound- that would be a touch too distracting.

And she had already caught the Hokage looking at her chest.

Hashirama was a handsome man, she’d give him that. But not her type- something about him made her squirm, and not in a pleasant way. How his gaze lingered a touch too long, how his smiles never reached his eyes. Snake, that’s what he was. A snake hiding beneath a bouquet of roses.

She leaned down, taking hold of her rucksack, and tugged it up onto the bed. She knew she’d be here for an extended period- and like hell she’d be stuck here without bringing along some entertainment. And teas- those were necessary to aid with the pains that came with her cycle.

Her hand took hold of a bottle first, cool to the touch as she pulled it out. It was clear, filled with a clear liquid that was thicker than water, yet not a solid. She set it aside for a moment- that would be necessary soon. Her nose scrunched as impatience settled in- where was it? Oh! Her lips spread into a grin as she took hold of the phallic shape, tugging the toy free. Perfect!

Excitement coursed through her veins as she settled onto the bed, propping herself up with the pillows the hotel provided. Now- she wasn’t wet enough to not bother with any foreplay, sadly. But foreplay always had been her forte- both for herself and her partners. Working people up is what she did best, after all.

Eyes closing, she allowed herself to relax, breathing deeply for a moment before her hands raised, slowly trailing along her sides. An image swam into view of calloused hands larger than her own and dark hair, a pair of gentle lips caressing her throat. Her head tilted back, a soft sigh pulled free as a hand massaged her breast, giving gentle squeezes. Sensitive- much more than normal. Perhaps from wearing the bindings too tightly- or if her cycle was close… She’d need to check later, but for now, it was not her hand squeezing her breasts but another’s.

“Yes,” she whispered, hips shifting thighs spreading for the phantom. A hand slipped down, dragging nails across her left thigh, drawing free a gasp from her lips, her back arching up and into the phantom lips she pictured closing around a nipple. A different hand was on her thigh, one belonging to another man- one with hair the color of starlight and eyes the shade of blood. “Please- don’t tease…” She whined, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

The hand on her breast crept upwards, pausing at her throat to squeeze- to test the waters. It had her thighs squeezing shut, hips shifting, breath quickening. She could hear his chuckle in her ear as the hand lifted to her mouth, two fingers slipping inside, pressing down against her tongue. "Be a good girl for us, Kiyomi," Madara murmured against the shell of her ear. A keen, high in her throat, filled the room as her thighs rubbed against one another, hoping to gain some friction.

"No, no," the swat to her thigh nearly startled her out of her fantasy, but she quickly slipped back in. "Did I say you could move?" Tobirama asked, his gaze hard as her legs spread once more.

“No, sir,” she breathed, though her fantasy quickly stills at the sound of footsteps outside of her room. She held her breath, gaze trained on the ceiling as she listened- someone returning to their room down the hall. The door opens, then clicks shut. Silence in the hall once more. Her breath leaves her in a rush as she shakes her head. She’s a grown woman, and yet she still jumps the moment she fears getting caught being intimate with herself.

How amusing.

Her gaze drifts, studying the vague shapes in the dark room. A desk- oh. Oh-

Her mind runs wild with that thought. Both of those men have their own desk- hell, she has a desk back in Kiri that has certainly seen plenty of things during its use. Her eyes slip shut once again, dark lashes casting soft shadows against the apples of her cheeks as her fantasy comes back to the forefront of her mind.

Madara, his front pressed to her back, his hands wandering across her skin, grabbing handfuls. "Look at this- you're already wet for us," he crooned, rocking his hips forward to press against her. Hard- oh, Gods, he was hard as a rock. It draws a moan out of her lips as her hand dips down, slipping beneath the dark, lace fabric of her underwear. Her fingers were hesitant at first before confidence took hold, picturing not her own hand but rather his. How the fingers would dip low, spreading her lips to fully feel how wet she had grown. "My, my, what have we here?" He’d ask as his middle finger teased at her entrance.

"Someone's excited," Tobirama would murmur, watching from his desk, leaning back in his chair. So casual, even though his yukata was open, baring his chest- and giving her the smallest peak of what lay below. "So needy already."

“Just for you two,” Kiyomi whispered into the air of the bedroom, lost in her fantasy as her fingers slipped in, curling upwards. The feeling had her toes curling, a keen rising high in her throat. “Madara-” she whined, voice wavering as her hips rolled into her touch.

Oh, his fingers would be larger than her own, thicker- the hands of a shinobi. “There, there!” She gasped as her fingers curled, pulling backwards before pushing forwards once more. He’d be cruel like this, she imagined, teasing and taunting her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Pressing against that one spot, his thumb against her clit, rubbing tight circles as Tobirama watched from his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. Unimpressed, he’d be- but his ruby gaze would be growing hazy, especially as Madara would reach up to cup one of her breasts through her kimono. “Don’t- Madara, please, don’t stop!”

Wet, so very wet, her hips raised off of the bed as she cried out, a hand against her chest. “There! Right- right there! Yes!” Madara would be grinning against her shoulder, gaze trained on Tobirama across from them as she jolted, knees threatening to give out from the harsh pleasure.

"Should I let her cum?" He would ask, watching as Tobirama’s gaze darkened. Predatory.

"Not yet." Tobirama would respond, leaning forward to reach out, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen into her flushed face. "I want her to cry. I want to see how she looks with her makeup ruined."

“No, no, no,” she pleaded, whining as the fingers left her. Empty- she felt so empty suddenly, her lip jutting out in a pout. “I was so close, don’t do this!”

"Do what, little snake?" Tobirama asked as Madara chuckled, reaching down to undo his trousers. No armor- none of them were wearing any. Too much in the way for hands to touch. And oh, she would love to be able to touch- from the few instances in which she’d been close enough to Madara, she’d felt how solid he was. How sturdy, how much those robes hid the muscles that laid beneath. And Tobirama- she’d gotten a good feel after being tripped by one of the elder council members, causing her to fall against him. He was solid, too- taller than Madara, a touch more lithe, but still solid.

What she wouldn’t give to be stuck between those two…

“Oh- oh!” She had to slap a hand over her mouth as her middle finger worked over her clit quickly, her breaths coming in harsh pants. “Good, good, good,” she whispered, brows furrowing, toes curling as the pleasure built higher, higher, higher-

Her hand withdrew, leaving her teetering on the edge before backing away. So close, so very close. “Tobirama,” she whispered as a hand raised to settle around her throat. In her mind, it was his- large, strong, squeezing as he loomed over her. “Fuck me, please- please-” her voice bordered on a sob before she reached out, taking hold of the bottle of lube. She made quick work of slicking the toy up, of ripping off her underwear and tossing them aside, of spreading her legs and settling a pillow beneath the small of her back.

“Oh-” she squeaked as the toy pushed in slowly, her brow furrowing at the slight sting of stretch. It was larger than her husband, that much was certain- the length almost the same as his. But oh, how good it felt as it sank in. “Yes,” came the soft sigh as it bottomed out, settled deep within.

"So tight," Madara would groan, his brows drawn inward, panting softly. He’d have laid her out on the desk, her head resting at the edge, giving her the perfect view of Tobirama’s face. "Should feel how tight she is, Tobi. Gripping my cock..." his voice trails off as he leans down, pressing kiss after lingering kiss to her throat, letting her get used to the stretch.

Her gaze settles upon ruby hues, watching how his gaze trails across her and Madara’s joined forms. His hand reaches down, cupping himself. She could reach down and help him out if her hands weren’t captured in Madara’s own. His lips part as he begins to stroke the same moment Madara begins to move.

“Oh- oh, yes, Gods, yes,” she gasps, eyes widening at the slow, deep thrusts. The drag against her inner walls is wonderful, creating sparks that cause her to jolt. “Madara- Madara, please, faster,” she begs, but her gaze doesn’t leave Tobirama’s. “Fuck me faster, Madara!”

The growl she gets in response is one she swears is real, rumbling against her ear as she moves the toy faster in her cunt, not bothering to hide her sounds any longer. If she were a more innocent woman, she’d be embarrassed by how wet she was- how she could hear it with each movement of the toy. But she wasn’t innocent, hadn’t been in many years, and god, did it feel good. “Ah! Yes- yes, Tobira-Mada-ah!” She cried out, hips rutting down against the toy. “Please, please, please-”

"Please what, little snake?" Tobirama murmured as Madara moaned against her throat, getting lost in the pleasure himself. "Use your words, pet."

“Wanna cum!” She keens, back arching. “Please, lemme cum, lemme cum, please, please-”

"Gonna be a good girl and cum for us?" Madara whispered against the shell of her ear. "Gonna cum on cock like a good girl? Let me fill you up?" He asked, hand slipping between them to toy with her clit.

She whines, biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. Tobirama would have laughed at that- oh, she could see it so clearly, how he would have reached up to pull her lip free, to swipe at the blood before leaning down for a kiss- how he would groan into the kiss, his own fist moving faster.

“Close, close- gonna cum, gonna-” Her voice catches in her throat as she tips over the edge, back arching, mouth dropping open into a silent scream. Her hand doesn’t stop despite how jerky the movements have become. “Don’t stop, don’t sto-ah-ah!” Kiyomi gasps, hand finally stilling as the aftershocks begin to subside. After a moment, she pulls the toy out and all but tosses it aside.

Her hands drop to her sides, a laugh trickling free as she shakes her head. “What a shame,” she murmured, voice hoarse. A shame it was only her imagination and not the real thing. She rolls onto her side, nose scrunching up at the wet little puddle she’d left on the bed. That could be fixed later.

For now, a hot shower sounded lovely. She rose and stretched with cat-like grace, her hands high above her head. She slipped into the en suite bathroom, door closing behind her. Not once had she noticed how the temperature had cooled, how the curtains had begun to dance with the light summer breeze.

Old window latches were oh so tricky, after all.

[legendarymasterwolf]

My Top Games of 2021

Another year in the books, another great selection of games to choose from. For this list, I’ll be counting down my top games from this year. I’ll only include releases I played from this year, so no Yakuza 7, Hades, or Miles Morales, as fantastic as both those games were. Last gen games with a PS5 port don’t count unless it’s a revamped version like Death Stranding. Enjoy!

20: Returnal

Sorry to everyone who really enjoyed this game, I just didn’t gel with it. Sure, the roguelike gameplay was awesome and the story intrigued me, but still, it just wasn’t fun to try and beat. Getting through runs seemed to be a matter of luck, with no upgrades to give your character between runs, unlike with Hades or Deathloop. I eventually returned this one since it was becoming a bore and just took up space on my system. Will I reattempt it in the future? Maybe, but that’s not likely at the moment.

19: Lost Judgement

I played Judgement earlier this year and I loved it. I enjoyed the gritty and personal detective story with the usual Yakuza insanity. As for the sequel, it seemed to vary. The School Stories missions were some of my favorite parts of the game (Amasawa is my apprentice, you cannot convince me otherwise) and I loved the new Snake fighting style. The parkour mechanics could have been implemented better, but the improved stealth was definitely welcome. As for the story, well, I’m mixed. While the game tackles heavy themes like suicide, bullying, and Japan’s justice system perfectly, it horribly fucks up when it comes to sexual assault. I won’t spoil how, but it’s not given nearly the same level of attention as the other themes it addresses, settling for bringing it up and tossing it aside by the final act. That aside, I enjoyed everything else about the game, even if the story wasn’t as personal to Yagami.

18: Persona 5: Strikers

I finally finished Persona 5 Royal earlier this year, my first game I played since my PS4 got bricked. I got the sequel right after I beat Royal and I loved it. I loved getting another chance to hang with the Phantom Thieves, have a ferris wheel date with Makoto, and imagine inventive scenarios for fanfics. Plus the new characters Sophie and Zenkichi are a blast to hang and play with, especially with the hack-and-slash gamepley that permeates the spinoff. It was one hell of a summer vacation. 

17: Death Stranding: Director’s Cut

Okay, I’ve only done the prologue and started the first chapter, but this looks spectacular so far. Can’t wait to play the rest of it, because it looks gorgeous on the PS5. And if the quality of life updates are anything to go by, I may enjoy this a lot more than I did the first time around.

16: The Dark Pictures Anthology: House of Ashes

I finally relented and picked up a copy of the latest entry in this choice driven horror series. It’s a pretty solid game, a horror story set during the Iraq War in 2003. Sure, the dialogue isn’t perfect and some characters annoyed the hell out of me (looking at you, Eric), but I still enjoyed the tense atmosphere and pressure to keep everyone alive till the end of the game. There are some solid performances in this game as well as some great character arcs, especially for Jason. I can’t wait for that next entry in the series.

15: Scarlett Nexus

I’ll be honest, I’ve only finished half of this game, still need to play and finish Kasane’s storyline, but I still dug the story even if it got pretty nuts at certain points. The characters are endearing, the action is a blast to play, the voice acting was on point, and I was so invested for all of it. Now I need to finish Kasane's arc to get the full experience.

14: Deathloop

I got into rogue-like games this year with Hades and this gem of a game. I enjoyed the Dishonored games, but damn, did they stress me out when it came to going nonlethal. Enter Deathloop, and all my problems are gone. This game is fast-paced, entertaining as hell when it comes to dialogue, and incredibly replayable. Still need to finish it, but it’s freaking great so far.

13: Tales of Arise

Still need to finish this, but what a great introduction to the Tales franchise all the same. With gorgeous looking graphics, an incredibly likeable group of main characters, amazing voice acting, exciting combat, and heavy themes like prejudice and self-hate, this has been an amazing JRPG to play. Just need to finish it to get the full experience.

12: Alan Wake: Remastered

Hello, old friend. I’m glad I was able to revisit this gem of a game, even if some mechanics hadn’t aged as well as other parts of the game. Also glad we’re getting a sequel in a couple years, and an M-rated survival horror game at that.

11: Demon Slayer: The Hinokami Chronicles

This was basically the Naruto games with a better story, not that I’m complaining. Definitely keeping this one for a while, especially as a Demon Slayer fan.

10: Kena: Bridge of Spirits

Only started playing this one recently, but I’m glad I did all the same. It feels like the old PS2 games I played as a kid, simple linear games with cute protagonists and sidekicks and an evil monster to defeat. Granted, I’m not that far into it and my experience may change later, but for now, it’s in my top 10.

9: Resident Evil: Village

This one has gone up on the list as the months since it came out have gone by. It’s an excellent horror game that will scare you shitless as well as entertain. With some fantastic sequences, like House Beneviento, it cements itself as one of Resident Evil’s best entries. Can’t wait for what comes next!

8: Mass Effect: Legendary Edition

This was one of the worst kept secrets of last year, and I loved every minute of it. From revisiting old planets like Tuchanka and Illium to participating in events like the Genophage Cure and the Fall of Thessia to romances and friendships, it was a blast to return to this series and I sobbed when it was over. And it looked gorgeous as well. I need that new Mass Effect game.

7: The Medium

A simple, yet incredibly effective horror game that shook me with its morally grey story, this stayed on my mind throughout the year. Top it off with one hell of a cliffhanger ending and a masterful performance by Troy Baker as The Maw, I couldn’t put this game down. Definitely pre-ordering a copy of a sequel if anything is announced.

6: Hitman 3

I can’t believe it took me this long to get into the series. It was just so enjoyable to kill my targets, especially when the method was creative as hell. Add to that an impressive story, careful preplanning, and the ability to play the missions from the past two games on PS5, and you’ve got a winning combination when it comes to a stealth game.

5: Far Cry 6

My expectations for this game were high and it did not disappoint. Not only was Giancarlo Esposito’s performance of Anton Castillo a masterclass in playing a villain, it was also Ubisoft’s first actually political game. While not all of it seemed to hit perfectly, the game’s message of fighting fascism hit home, especially in the wake of all that has happened these past two years. Also, the game’s protagonist, Dani Rojas, is definitely the best Far Cry protagonist I’ve seen in a while. And some post credit audio may have confirmed that a certain villain is still alive in the Far Cry universe.

4: Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy

I beat this game quickly because I was addicted from the first scene aboard the Milano. Everything about this game is amazing, from the story to the combat to the banter between the Guardians to the lore. It was a wild ride that made me tear up several times. Plus, it was set to an amazing score and soundtrack, and that’s a win for any Guardians game.

3: Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart

The first showcase of what the PS5 could really do with its games did not fall short at all. From the incredibly short load times to the stellar graphics to the engaging action sequences, I loved this adventure from start to finish. Plus, the legendary Jennifer Hale voices new protagonist Rivet and she is amazing at her job. For anyone on the fence about getting a PS5, here is your reason for buying one, provided you’re able to.

2: Psychonauts 2

I played and finished the first game years ago and was incredibly impressed by the sequel. Not only has it been the best looking Double Fine game I’ve ever played, it’s been one of the best action-adventure games, especially when it comes to dealing with mental health issues. The Bob Zanotto sequence that dealt with alcoholism was especially poignant for me, since I seem to have increased my alcohol intake since a dear friend of mine died this past April. Also, Jack Black was spectacular as the Brain in a Jar, I need more of Jack Black in video games.

1: Life is Strange: True Colors

It was a tough choice, but in the end, I had to pick that game that had me sobbing from start to finish. It was my first time playing a Life is Strange game from start to finish and I adored it. With the romance and the empathetic abilities, plus an incredibly likeable protagonist in Alex Chen thanks to a fantastic performance from Erika Mori, this game easily cemented itself as my personal pick for game of the year.

What were your picks for game of the year for 2021? Leave your answer in the comments!

[childrenofthenightt]

heart of gold (chapter two)

pairing: robert plant x florence bennett (oc)

warnings: domestic abuse, sexual assault (short scene, over the clothes), depictions of violence, jonesy and jimmy being partners in crime 

words: 3.4k

summary: trapped in a loveless marriage to a powerful man, florence bennett lives every day in despair. after a chance encounter with a golden-haired actor, florence finds that her life will never be the same again.

author’s note: this was... more fun to write than it should have been. once again, please note that the views of that bitch named allen are not my own. hope you enjoy!! :) feedback, as always, is so appreciated!

chapter one

masterlist

playlist

------

Walking out of that theatre, arm linked with that of her cruel husband, Florence knew her life had changed. A cosmic shift, perhaps. 

Whatever it had been, she had felt it. The blond performer, with the crown of perfect silken ringlets, was the catalyst, clearly. When Florence had laid eyes on him, she found herself completely unable to look away. He was mesmerizing and she was trapped yet again. This time, though, she welcomed it, this beautiful creature an escape for the young woman, from her unhappiness. Florence, looking towards her husband once more, is struck by scorching anger, largely directed at herself. She had let herself get sucked in, thwarted by her own choices.

“...His hair is much too long. And that blasted bird landed right in his palm! Wasn’t that just…Florence, love, are you listening?”

She hadn’t been, mind too focused on the ethereal stranger that had caught her eye. This has left her staring every now and again at the door of the theatre, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who had stolen her heart. “Yes, of course, dear.”

“I should hope so,” he whispers into Florence’s ear, voice threatenly low. “As I was saying… Was it not utterly laughable, how that bird landed right in the performer’s hand? It appears you can now teach birds tricks as well as dogs.”

“I don’t believe there was any intent behind that. He looked as surprised as we were. Regardless, this was a very enjoyable showing, wouldn't you agree?”

“I would. Come now, our carriage will be here any moment.”

“Did you already have your… negotiations? You had mentioned this was business-related.”

“It has been taken care of. I am aware that you enjoy the atmosphere of this theatre,” he says, sharp, white teeth baring as condescension drips from his gaze, “But you realize we must return home at some point, correct?”

“Of course, of course…” Florence sends one last glance behind her at the door to the theatre. No luck, of course. The evening air nips at her exposed skin, and the sun is setting, the sky flushed pink. Stepping into the carriage, she sighs lightly, weighed down by the fact that she would never see the gorgeous actor again.

Surprisingly enough, though, it had been a rare enjoyable outing with the infamous Allen Bennett. He hadn't been overly rude to her, and he conducted himself relatively well; she couldn't exactly complain. However, she was foolish to believe that this good humour would last.

Once the couple return home, they find a wonderful roast dinner on the table, the house completely spotless, servants milling about to complete supplementary tasks. Two young servants appear in front of Allen and Florence, poised to take their coats, while James and John, with a subtle smile at the woman, escort them to the dining table, revealing a rich supper fit for a king. An appetizing cherry wine in their goblets, food on their plates, what could go wrong?

“My love, I would like to bed you tonight. Be ready after we finish our meal.”

Suffocating silence fills the room, until a shocked voice permeates it, soft, as to not anger Bennett further.

“Allen, I am quite tired. I was hoping to retire early.”

Snaking a palm up the length of his wife’s leg, the man smirks, quirked lips revealing gleaming picture-perfect white teeth. He reaches the curve of her hip and moves inward, palming her through her floor-length gown. Florence shifts, discomfort painting her features.

“Allen, please—”

This utterance captures the attention of John and James, who had been standing at attention, in case of any requests by the couple. Florence glances around the room, locking eyes with her friends as she opens her mouth to speak. She is interrupted by the roaming hands of her husband creeping further.

“You will return to our quarters, Florence. There isn’t a choice to be made here.”

“Stop touching her, Sir. It’s clear she’s uncomfortable.” John steps forward, anger pinching his aristocratic features. His gaze never wavers as Allen turns to face him, scoff tumbling out of his throat as the owner of the mansion stares back. The daggers that seemed poised to cut were almost visible in those murky black depths.

“What did you say, servant boy? Surely, you did not give me orders.”

“I said, don’t touch her. I was not aware that something as simple as that would be so hard for you to understand, Sir,” John's face is stony and cold as he locks eyes with Bennett. A smirk is painted upon his lips as he continues, treading through unknown territory. Nobody ever talks back to Mr. Allen Bennett, after all. “I apologize wholeheartedly for my indiscretion.”

Allen stands, finally knocking the goblet to the floor, a red river flowing from the overturned cup, and advances on the servant. He moves in close, a hand flying to John’s windpipe, squeezing warningly. Bennett gazes at the other man with amusement at home in his coal eyes, and John stills, returning the stare with utter contempt.

“Miss Florence was not comfortable with the way you were treating her, and I will not let you continue touching her in that manner.” John says, voice as hard as the look in his slate eyes.

Bennett, smiling now, squeezes harder, John choking on air that will never come. Florence lunges towards her husband, a cry of panic leaving her lips, fearing for John. For the second time that day, Florence is struck by the ringed hand, slashing her cheek once more. Unable to sit back and leave her friend, though, she throws herself at her husband once again, and is pushed backward, slamming into the table and falling to the floor.

James, frozen with anxiety, snaps out of his stupor at the sight of the blood dripping from Florence’s bruised cheek, and the pitiful sounds of his friend.

“Get your filthy hands off of him,” He snarks, pulling the man roughly to face him.

Allen, surprised at the uncharacteristic display of anger from the quiet, yet brutally stubborn young man, finally drops John, who struggles to draw a full breath. Florence, headache a jackhammer against her skull, crawls over to John. James, still gripping the lapels of his superior’s shirt, is thrown back into the wall. Bennett had switched their positions swiftly, catching the other’s arms in a vice-grip. He throws a solid punch, ring and all, at James. Unable to dodge, he would crumple to the floor if not for the hands pulling him up for another taste of violence. Florence, dazed slightly due to the blow to her head, grabs at her husband, willing him to stop, though he does not hear her, or even react to her touch. His eyes are a haze of horrid rage, fist connecting with James's pale face again and again, cracking the porcelain skin.

Finally finished with James after what seemed like an eternity, Bennett lets him slide to the floor, kicking once at the man’s stomach, a pitiful groan floating past his lips. Backing away after the last assault, Allen, a smirk playing about his thin lips, takes in the destruction he has caused: his wife bleeding and bruised and two of his servants injured, the rest cowering in fear, not wishing to end up like those who had defied him.

“I hope this serves as a lesson to all of you: Do not cross me.”

------

John and Florence, both sore and bruised, pull James, unconscious as he is, into their arms, rushing as quickly as they can to Florence’s room. Depositing James gently on the smooth, soft fabric, Florence runs into the ensuite to wet a washcloth at the ivory sink, and hurries back into the room, breaths coming in sharp gasps. Carefully wiping the ruby-red stains from the man’s ashen face, the woman sets about stitching him up.

“Maybe sewing really does come in handy sometimes…” croaks John, throat an abstract painting of blues and purples and blacks. The attempt at lightening the mood had fallen flat, as the man could barely get the words out. The pair sit in silence while Florence works on their fallen friend, occasionally brushing his sable curls off of his forehead, her attempt at comfort.

James adequately cared for, she walks over to John, inspecting his throat with a featherlight touch. Tears spring to the woman’s eyes at the wheezing breaths of her friend, and he pulls her into his arms. Her river of tears soak into his threadbare top, which has come unbuttoned in the chaos that had transpired.

“Florence, save for some bruises and some difficulty speaking, which are both temporary, might I add, I will be just fine. James will heal too, thanks to you.”

“My dear friend, this is all my fault.”

“Your fault? Florence, you did absolutely nothing wrong. Your husband attempted to take advantage of you, and as unforgivable as that may be, it is not your fault in any way.” John insists, handsome face solemn.

“It is my fault, John,” Florence sighs, pulling away from her friend to wipe at her eyes, the waterfall of her tears flowing once again. “I angered him this morning, as you know. I can’t meet any of his expectations as a wife, and it led to this anger. This violence.”

“Ah, yes. James was not very happy to see that mark on your cheek,” John reaches to touch the unmarked side of the woman’s face, bringing her comfort once again. “For as quiet and mysterious as he claims to be, he was all but frothing at the mouth when he heard. I doubt he will be any less angry when he wakes. Thankfully Mr. Bennett didn't hit that mark again.”

“If James wakes…” Florence says, forlorn expression gracing her face as she looks at the man in question, who remains still.

“Florence, you took care of him. You got him this far. As for tonight, that was not your fault. You did not make him the way he is, and you are not responsible,” John turns Florence’s face towards him, an earnest look on his face as he speaks. “Regarding his ludicrous expectations, you are your own person. You need only meet your own.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, John, I do, but I do not know how I can continue with this,” Florence says, furrowing her brow. “I cannot divorce him, or he will retaliate. I cannot run away either. He has so many connections, everywhere. I just wish for us to be free.”

“Maybe the three of us can run away and live in that beloved theatre of yours. I do believe you mentioned a piano?”

At this, James begins to groan, finally stirring, and the two friends dash to his side. He is still heavily bruised, but Florence will always take that over the alternative.

“Florence? John? T-thank goodness you are both alright…”

“James, we are the ones that should be worrying about you. You wouldn't wakeー”

“I am fine, truly. Bruised, but not broken. I am just glad you are both okay as well,”  James breaks out in a cheeky smile, revealing his true age, rather than the mystic persona he tries so hard to show. “I believe I heard talk of moving to the theatre? There are myths of a guitar hidden there. I used to play, when I was young... Maybe we’ll have our own group.”

His playful laughter soon turns into a wince, as his ribs scream at him to stop. Florence notices the movement, and locks eyes with him, offering a sympathetic smile. James waves it away with a nod and a hand in the air, and the conversation continues.

“Speaking of the theatre, how was the performance? Surely it can’t have been terrible. You came home in such high spirits.”

“It was wonderful, John! Truly wonderful. The plot was so well-written, and the acting was phenomenal. The man cast as the lead was purely magical! I do not know his name, sadly. He made me laugh and cry and smile,” Florence gushed, a smile of her own growing at the thought of her haloed stranger. “Not to mention he was beautiful, as well.  There was a moment where he had let a dove out of its cage, a wonderful stylistic choice no doubt…”

“My goodness, Florence,” James interrupted, smile sitting happily upon his bruised face. “There must be something wrong with him, there simply must be!”

“I am telling you James, he was perfect! His delivery was simply wondrous, and his stage presence was truly arresting…”

The two men watched their friend speak of this stranger with more love than she ever had in regards to her husband. With a knowing look shared between them, James interrupts her rant, a smile on his face, “Florence… Why don’t you write the man a letter? John and I must go into town for groceries tomorrow anyways, we can drop it off at the theatre.”

“Do you… do you think it would work? Would he even read it? A man like him has better things to do, I reckon.”

“I do think you should try, at least. You are not happy with Mr. Bennett, it is plain to see. This may be a solution,” John chuckles, spotting Florence, who had been twiddling her thumbs in an anxious flurry, eyes wide.  “Goodness, you haven't written anything to him yet and you're already in a panic!”

“You know… You may be right. It is worth it to try, at the very least.” Florence says, voice almost a whisper, a warm smile at home on her face. Cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, she rushes to grab a slip of paper as well as the fountain pen sitting on the desk across the room. Narrowly avoiding a spill of ink across the paper from the bottle next to her, Florence situates herself at her desk, and composes a letter to her lovely stranger:

‘Dear Angel, halo of golden curls…’

------

“You are an escape from the hell I am confined to, and every thought of you makes my heart sing… Goodness, someone has it bad for you, Robert. I’ve no particular idea why...”

“Oh, come off it, Bonzo. We all know jealousy is not a good look for you. Now, give me that!”

“Fine, fine…”

“Ah, the Great John Bonham is capable of listening! Who knew?”

John Bonham, a tall, muscular man with chestnut hair and an impressive moustache, sits lazily on a theatre seat, having just finished a rehearsal. His long legs extended over the seat in front of him, he drums a staccato beat on his lap. Brash, and rather impudent, John, or ‘Bonzo’, as he prefers, had gotten himself involved in acting by way of necessity. Down on his luck in a rough area of town, his intimidating physique had kept him out of trouble, though funds were scarce. He went where the money was, and a boatload of it was waiting for him in the acting industry. He had always been rather comical, after all.

Quickly rising through the ranks of the theatre industry along with Robert, a fast friend from the very beginning, the two became a sort of package deal. Rarely would you see one without the other. Looking at them now, arms thrown across the other’s shoulder, bright laughter permeating the tense air that seemingly haunts the theatre, it only becomes clearer.

“Robert, don’t stop on my account. Finish your letter. It seems important.” A waggle of Bonoz’s eyebrows follows, and he laughs heartily at the glare on Robert’s handsome features.

Robert can only shake his head in response. Eyes floating over the letters painted midnight blue with expensive ink, Robert can feel his cheeks warm at the kind words that flow across the page, a river of reverence. Luck is not his friend, as he is unable to glean any information from the glimmering syllables that glided out of her pen. The actor receives letters from content audience-members each day, but this one… is different.

Robert is intrigued by the words of this faceless admirer.

“Bonzo,” The blond starts, golden curls glinting in the late afternoon sun. His hand raises, only to rest upon his chin. He’s lost in thought, and Bonzo grunts out an affirmative noise. The sound snaps Robert out of his reverie, and he continues, “Are you aware of how this note found its way here? Who brought it, perhaps?”

“I’m not quite sure. I believe it was already here when we arrived,” Bonzo replies, face pinched in thought. As if a lightbulb had gone off in his mind, his features light up, and he snaps his fingers. The smile on his face is brighter than any spotlight. “Though… I do remember seeing some unfamiliar guests leaving earlier. They wore servants’ clothing, and their hair was rather shaggy, if I’m honest. One of them, the taller of the two, carried groceries.”

“Would you be able to point them out if we see them again?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Robert hums, eyes far off. The blond is distracted, only broken out of his stupor by the sharp sound of snapping fingers near his ear. Glancing over at the perpetrator, he meets Bonzo’s concerned gaze. His large hand claps Robert on the shoulder, and a wry smile graces Bonzo’s features as Robert searches his face.

“What are you planning to do, Robert?”

The man stands, leaving the brunet without a response, and glides into the dressing room. Bonzo flies after him, hot on his heels, his dark eyes full of questions. Reaching for a slip of paper, slightly careworn, and his trusty fountain pen, Robert writes back.

------

Rushing into the manor, James and John search around for any sign of Mr. Bennett. The bruises painting their skin shades of purple haven’t faded in the slightest, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. If he found out what they’d done, they wouldn’t live to see the next day. On their way to drop off a suit of Mr. Bennett’s at the tailor’s, they had encountered the blond actor again, and he had a letter of his own to exchange.

Deeming it safe, John pulls out a crisp ivory envelope, bent slightly in one corner from its place hidden under his coat. James’ lips curl upwards in a playful smirk, and John returns it, a bright smile upon his split lip. He had sliced it during his fall to the floor the night before, and it served as yet another physical reminder of Bennett’s tyranny. John lays a hand against James’ back, conversing quietly as they search for the lady of the house.

Soft, simple notes shimmer through the air from the hallway next to them, and an enchanting hum accompanies it, alto in pitch. Shuffling closer to the ornate door of the music room, the servants peer in. Sitting at the sleek black grand piano, somewhat out of place in the gold-tinted room, sits Florence, plunking away. Glorious sunlight shines through the glassy surface of the window, making her golden brown locks, pulled into a loose bun, almost glow. She looked reverent; almost godly, in a flowing royal blue gown. The woman looks up from the keys, finally noticing the duo watching from the doorway.

“H-how long have you been standing there?”

“Your playing is improving by the hour, my friend.”

“I must have had a good teacher,” Florence grins at John, earning herself a warm smile in response, before turning to face James. The ebony-haired man stands just behind John, and steps forward as the woman’s face lights up. “Oh, James, I’m glad you’re truly alright! The damage, yesterday… No matter. It’s good to see you both.”

“Likewise, Florence.”

Finally noticing the envelope half-hidden in John’s hands, the woman cocks her head to the side, confusion clear in the furrowing of her brow. Gesturing towards it, she looks up at the men, a smile blossoming slowly on her lips. Almost as if she hadn’t wished to hope, in case she was let down.

“What’s… what’s that, John?” Blue-gray eyes flit down to the envelope, as twin smiles bloom on the faces of her friends. A glance passes between John and James, a silent communication between the two, and almost simultaneously, they turn to face Florence once more. Silence fills the room, until a light chuckle shatters it.

“It seems,” John starts, eyes alight with mischief. He approaches, smirk never wavering, as he hands the note to Florence. “That your beloved has written you back. You were right, of course. He was very handsome. Quite kind as well, if his treatment of James and I means anything.”

“You mean to say…”

“Open it, Florence.” That was James, now. The man was getting rather impatient, shifting his weight from foot to foot in barely caged anticipation.

The light crinkle of paper tearing is the only sound in the room, as its occupants hold their breath in wait. Clearing her throat, Florence casts her eyes across the paper, and begins to read aloud.

“Dearest stranger, I was grateful to receive your letter. I wish, though, that I could put a name, perhaps a face, to your lovely words. You, no doubt, must be as beautiful as they are…”

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taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages @kyunisixx (let me know if you want to be added!)

[tomhardydallasstarsgirl]

FUCK.YOU.ANGEL.REYES.

CHAPTER 2

Characters: Angel Reyes x black reader

Summary: You return to Santo Padre after being gone for nearly 15 years. Your life and also others will change. Affecting everything you hold dear including your Mayan MC Family.

Warnings: Language and Angel Reyes being a sexy nasty fuck as Angel Reyes always is. And there’s soft and sweet Angel that you’ll see a bit of this time. Sex/Oral Sex Female Receiving

Its getting hotter with this one.

Pic Credit: @angels-reyes​

“Mujer Fenomenal” Angel says reading the front of your t-shirt as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, hello Reyes” you say as he towers over you in such close proximity his body heat is making you nervous as suddenly his eyes are in a trance staring at your droolworthy cleavage

“Oye Chico Monstruo my eyes are up here”, you tell Angel snapping your fingers bringing him back to reality.

“Give me a hug Phenomenal Woman” as Angel snakes his long arms around your body.

“You look good enough to eat girl” whispers Angel as you gasp in his arms making you blush.

He finally releases the hug as he is still looking at you with his beautiful eyes making your body temperature rise.

“You smell even better gorgeous” he says making you feel shy and suddenly small in his presence.

“You look dashing yourself there Reyes” you say as he kissed your hand he has not let go yet while Ezekiel, Coco and Gilly have grins on their faces.

Looks like the “Lady Killer is at it again”, says Creeper while standing with Tranq and Taza. Who both shake their heads while laughing at the same time.

He takes his time twirling you around checking you out for the second time. Taking in your beautiful curves of your soft perfect body.

“Dude why you keep twirling me around?”, you ask laughing as he spins you again.

“Mmmm, so nice I had to do it twice querida”, as your soft body meets his hard one.  

“15 years have been a blessing to you I see”, says Angel kissing your cheek as you inhale his cologne and leather.

“Thank you, Angel,”, you say as your friends look on giggling and teasing you.

“Hey beautiful, can we go somewhere and talk some more”, asks Angel as a huge smile spreads over your face showing your deep dimples.

Angel suddenly has a look on his face as if his brains overheats as he rubs the back of his neck looking nervous.

“Damn, this girl is so fucking gorgeous”, whispers Angel thinking to himself as he looks up to the starry night sky sighing heavily.  

“Hey dreamer. You okay”, you ask lacing your fingers with his pulling him towards you.

“Come on tough guy let’s go talk somewhere”, as you two head toward the clubhouse.

You two sit at the bar and talk for what seems to be a long time. Just a simple and casual conversation as he made you laugh like you never have in a long time. He also apologizes for how he treated you in school when you two were younger. You could not help but notice the big silver rings he had on both hands. You wonder what his long thick ringed fingers would feel like mingled on the curves of your body or pushed inside your deep into your core.

‘I was a fat little fucker then” says Angel as he laces his fingers between yours kissing the back of your hand warming your insides and awaking the butterflies again in your stomach.

“I have a question for you to answer Angel and you must be honest with me okay?”

“Sure, carino what is it?”

“Did you come to your father’s last night and were you watching me sleep?”

Angel’s mind jumped to the visions he had as he watched you sleep. The scent of your body, softness of your skin and your beautiful legs. Which stumped him as you laughed at him.

Then as the conversation went on, he is standing up with your hand in his.

“Damn your tall Angel your making my neck do extra work right now” you say as you rub it.

Without hesitation he grabs you by the waist picking you up and setting you down on top of the bar with little to no effort.

“Is that better gorgeous?” asks Angel as he look you in the eye causing you to smile and roll your eyes. Angel notices a small tattoo on your wrist that reads “Colibri”. Making lazy circles and caressing your palm which was doing an assault on your stomach and lower regions. He brings your wrist close to his lips kissing your tattoo as his beard tickles your skin as goosebumps show on your skin.

“Did someone use to call you that when you were younger?”

“Yes, my father use to call me that. Because when I was fast, small and beautiful just like a Hummingbird”.

“Well your pops was a very smart man”, says Angel kissing it again.

“But he was right about one thing though”.

“What’s that Reyes?”, you ask playfully tilting you head to the side.

“You are indeed beautiful. Curious to understand why no one has put it on lock and gave you a house full of children?”

“I’m going to tell you just like what I said to Gilly and Coco earlier. I haven’t found the right man yet.”

Angel rest his hand on one of your thighs giving it a squeeze as he steps between your legs.  The bartender steps away from the bar as she sees this exchange heading in the opposite direction. Your breath is held in a bit as Angel’s eyes look directly at your luscious red ruby kissable lips as he inches away from your face.

“Who knows he could be standing right in front of you”, rubbing your legs and kissing your tattoo. Suddenly you hear a noise as you turn away. But soon as you turn back to face Angel his hand grabs your neck gently as he pulls you in for a kiss. One of those type of kisses that is scorching hot. That rocks your body back and forth which causes you short circuit you brain momentarily. You wrap your arms around his solid and hard upper body as he grunts while kissing you. Running your hands up and down his long torso as you get a feel of his warm tatted arms. You two are so busy kissing that you do not realize that the front door opens and your homegirls along with the rest of Angel’s Mayan brothers sneak inside to the sound of your moaning noises filling the bar.

Suddenly a throat is cleared loudly behind you both breaking the kiss.

“Mierda” whispers Angel as everyone is whooping and hollering carrying on as you giggle looking at Angel’s not so pleased face as he needs a few minutes to calm his erection down to relax.

You point at Angel’s lips as he has your lipstick on his.

“We’re finishing this later Colibri”, says Angel as he kisses you again before he pulls out his handkerchief wiping away your lipstick as he follows Coco and Gilly to grab food for you all to eat.

Everyone is eating as Angel and you steal looks from across the way at each other as he winks at you causing you to giggle.

“We’ll have none of that young lady”, shouts Scarlett bringing you back to reality.

“Uh, so aren’t you going to touch up your lipstick”, asks Danielle.

“Yeah, bonita aren’t you going to put on some more lipstick” says Angel grabbing you by the waist as you yelp in such surprise.

You two are back at the bar and alone in the clubhouse. He has you sitting up on the bar again as he is whispering naughty things in Spanish to you. You’re giddy right at this point because of the invisible spell Angel Reyes has cast upon you. You cannot deny that he has it going on and is more dangerous than a five-alarm fire in progress. You cannot place what it is about this man in front of you. Is it his swagger, his charisma, that dirty and sexy sense of humor he has or merely his “Larger than Life” presence he has over you right now? Hell, the tattoos running up and down his arms and one on his hand makes it even worse by turning you on. You picture those tatted strong arms around you. You hate to admit it but, Angel Reyes is beginning to make you melt and fall for him which you do not know if it’s a good thing or a bad one.

“Where did you just go right then Colibri?” asks Angel as he stands between your legs kneeding your thighs with his thick ringed fingers causing you to pool between your legs again. Staring at your lips as he bit down on his own bottom lip as goosebumps appear on your overheated skin again.

“Oh, I was thinking about something. Nothing serious though.”, you say to yourself knowing damn well your mind just turned curious and dirty.

It’s like he could tell you were lying because he asks you that one question you didn’t want to answer.

“Am I making you nervous querida?” he asks as his solid body is now occupying your space causing you to put your hands on his chest to alleviate some space. You can feel his harden muscles of his chest and rock-hard abs as you attempt to push him away making him chuckle under his breath. You wonder how his body will feel on top you. Or how would his beard feel between your legs taking your very spirit as his tongue is lapping at your sweet honeypot bringing you to endless orgasms that would reach the ends of the cosmos.

“You gotta do better than that gatita” says Angel not moving an itch as you feel his rock-hard length on your thigh. You try your best to not have a reaction as your breathe hitches.  

He takes a firm grip of your neck again massaging it as his soulful eyes look into yours as both of your foreheads touch.  He rests his face in the curve of your neck as he inhales your body scent placing a soft kiss on your neck.

“Let me look at your feet gorgeous. I want to see them.” says Angel as he reaches down grabbing your feet. Removing your shoes, he notices your perfect pedicure and cute toes as he massages your foot with his rough hands sending tingles all over your body. He rubs his rough thumb over your Yoshi tattoo giving you a look of question.

“The dinosaur from Super Mario? Really carino?”, says Angel.

“Hey, don’t judge me Reyes”.

“You have your tats and I have mine”, you say flicking out your tongue out at him as he laughs.

“So we sticking out tongues now? Fuck around baby-girl and I’ll do something you won’t expect” gloats Angel as you roll your eyes.

“You talking shit shorty?” says Angel as out of nowhere runs his tongue at the heel of your foot up to your toes as you scream and shout. Running his tongue along your toes as he keeps his eyes on you as you become antsy. He sticks your big toe in his mouth as he rolls his tongue around it. He finally pulls it out by making a big pop leaving you speechless as you hold your breath.  

“Are you ticklish anywhere else?” he says as you hop off the bar trying to make a run for it.

With two long strides to your four paces Angel catches you as he tosses you over his shoulder with a  smack to your ass before settling you back down on the bar.

“You gotta run faster than that if you want to get away from me Colibri” says Angel as you grab his kutte pulling him in for a long kiss.

Now you leave him woozy and at a loss for words as your girls come in looking for you.

“Damn will you two ever come up for any air instead sucking each other’s face off?”, shouts Riz with Scarlett hot on his trail.

“Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.” says Angel.

“The party is winding down now but, some of us are going for drinks. Do you two want to come along with us? Or be alone and play catch up?” says Scarlett as Riz hugs her from behind kissing her neck.

“Catch up alone” you two say simultaneously as Scarlett holds her hand out towards Riz as he sighs heavily reaching into his back pocket pulling out a $100 dollar bill slapping it into her hand.

“HA!!! Thank yoooooouu”, sings Scarlett taking the money happily from Riz.

“You can buy a round of drinks then big baller/shot caller”, says Riz playfully.

“You have to wrestle me for it”, giggles Scarlett.

“You playing with fire nina traviesa”, says Riz kissing her on the nose.

“Let me say goodbye to my girls”, you say as Angel helps you put your shoes back on.

“Don’t take too long Bonita”.

“Yes daddy” you whisper to Angel as you walk away with a bit more shake in your hips as you know he’s watching you from behind.

“That’s my girl”, says Scarlett as you two head outside of the clubhouse.

You see Coco and Gilly talking to Ezekiel and Danielle who are still joined at the hip. While Naomi is sitting in Bishop’s lap facing him as she strokes his salt and pepper beard being all cute and giggly.

Danielle whispers to Ezekiel as she kisses him on the cheek leaving his side to join her girls.

“Where’s Naomi?”, you ask.

“Over there playing house with Daddy Bishop” says Scarlett pointing towards them.

“When I see them two y’all know what song comes to mind?” says Danielle.

“What song girl?” you ask.

Danielle: “I will be your Father Figure”, snapping her fingers and shaking her hips as you and Scarlett sing the lyrics.

You: (OH BABY)

Scarlett: “Put your tiny hand in mine”.

You: (I’D LOVE TO)

Danielle: “I will be your preacher teacher”.

You: (BE YOUR DADDY)

Scarlett: “Anything you have in mind”.

You: (IT WOULD MAKE ME HAPPY)

Danielle: “I will be your Father Figure”.

You: (VERY HAPPY)

Scarlett: “I have had enough of crime”.

You: (PLEASE LET ME BE)

Danielle: “I will be the one who loves you”

All three of you shout: “‘TIL THE END OF TIME”

“HEEEEYYYY NOOOOOWW” you yell getting into the groove.

“What you tricks got going on about over here” says Naomi joining the group.

“Oh, don’t act brand new?”, says Scarlett.

“We were singing about you and El Presidente over there”, says Danielle as all four of you look in Bishop’s direction to see that he’s joined now by Riz, Angel, Coco, and Gilly.

“Were you telling Daddy Claus Obispo your Christmas list while he was bouncing you on his knee Telling him you’ve been a good girl all year?” you ask making Naomi blush with embarrassment.

“Hopefully, I will be bouncing on his lap tonight. Butt ass naked and getting felt the fuck up”, says Naomi as you all hoot and howl laughing out loud.

“So, I take it you felt it while sitting there huh?”, you ask.

“Hell, yeah I did”, says Naomi circling her hips like she has a hola hoop.

“Girl, you better keep that dime between your legs like what your granny told you honey” says Danielle.

“Too late. Bishop done already asked for change” says Naomi gyrating her hips causing you all to laugh louder.

“You ladies ready to go now?”, asks Ezekiel grabbing Danielle by the hand as your girls are joined by Riz and Bishop.

“Y/N sweetheart thank you for coming and having a good time. I’m sure Angel wasn’t too difficult for you, tonight, was he?” says Bishop as he snakes his arm around Naomi pulling her towards him.

“Oh, he was practically a house kitten”, you say as a shy smile crept up on your face and your cheeks warm up.

Your so preoccupied with talking that you didn’t hear Angel stalking you slowly behind you. Like the King of the Jungle with his sights set on his prey. Of course, no one says a word to you so of course your totally oblivious to it.

SMACK!!! “Maldicion, that is beautiful”, shouts Angel smacking your ass startling you.

“Cochino! No te soporto”, you yell as Angel bellows with laughter.

“Did you just say that you can’t stand me Mujer Fenomenal?” asks Angel coming up behind you peppering soft kisses on your neck as a moan escapes from your lips.

“Yes, I did”, you say rolling your eyes.

“You ready to leave Colibri?” Angel whispers in your ear.

“Thought you’d never ask Angel. But, first let me visit the ladies’ room”, you say kissing him on the lips as he watches you walk away.

“We’ll go with you sis”, says Danielle as she is followed by Scarlett and Naomi.

  “Ughhhh, I’m really nervous y’all”, you say washing your hands.

“Why honey?”, asks Naomi.

“I’m afraid something is going to go wrong tonight”, you say biting your bottom lip nervously.

“This isn’t Marcus from 4 years ago. This is Angel Ignacio Reyes. A totally whole different breed of Man”.

“AKA The Maintenance Man”, says Scarlett in the bathroom stall.

“Wench stay your ass on that damn porcelain in there” you shout to Scarlett as everyone else laughs.

“Hell, who knows. On the other hand, I might turn into a slut bucket and try to hop on his dick tonight”, you say as Naomi and Danielle giggle under their breath.

Suddenly the toilet flushes as Scarlett steps out to wash her hands.

“Do you remember that game on the Price Is Right with the little mountain climber?”, says Scarlett as she wraps her arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah I do.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Well sweetie if you chose to do so just make sure you have your hard hat, your waist harness and ropes okay. So, when you do reach the top of Mount Reyes just make sure you go YO DE LOOOOO LEEE LOOOOOOO”, says your girls teasing you again laughing at you.

“I really can’t stand you salty wenches right now”, you say stomping off playing like your upset.

You all leave the ladies room arm in arm to outside the clubhouse as you see your men ready to go. Bishop and Riz are talking to one another waiting on Naomi and Scarlett by their motorcycles.  As Danielle gets tossed over Ezekiel’s shoulder as she screams with surprise as he walks to his own. You stand alone as you watch your friends leave on the back of roaring Harleys with hot Mayan guys as you wait for Angel.

Angel surprises you as he comes up from behind kissing your temple.

“You ready precioso?” he asks as you two sway from side to side as he holds you.

“Si!!”, you say as you turn to face his tall frame as you pull his face towards you to kiss the tip of his nose. Giving him your signature heart swelling smile showing your deep dimples.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful Y/N”, says Angel as he grabs your hand kissing the top of it.

“Come on baby, let’s go for a Midnight Drive” as you two head toward a 1962 Black 2 door Ford Falcon as he helps you in on the passenger side.

“You want some ice cream Colibri?”, he asks as he starts the engine as it purrs around you.

“Sure. Then what after that”, you ask raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll see. The night is still young beautiful”, as he pulls out from the clubhouse.

You both arrive at a local spot which happens to be popular in Santo Padre as you sit in the car while Angel is in line outside the building to get your frozen treats. You get out of the car as you lean against the passenger door watching him. Every so often Angel would look in your direction making goofy faces at you as you smile and giggle. You could not help but, notice how sweet, playful and sexy Angel can be as he was chatting with the older lady at the window as she took his order.  But you know what the Mayans are all about. Which if course was not just full of motorcycle enthusiasts. These dudes were the real deal and of course you knew it was in Drugs, Guns and money. When your parents were alive, they gave you the rundown of what your father did for the Mayans and even SOA from Charming when he was called upon. So, you already know in your heart that all these people you grew up with who are all Mayans have done some terrible things to survive and take care of their loved ones. So, you know Angel has done the very same things for his family of Mayan brothers along with Ezekiel and Mr. Reyes. You thought of this many times over when you first back here in Santo Padre. Your decision was to let it go completely and take it for what it is. Which you assume it will not be nothing serious and just strictly physical and fun between 2 consenting adults with no strings attached. But then again that is only what your mind is thinking. Your heart and body have different plans for you.

“Gracias Maria”, says Angel as he walks back to you with the ice cream.

A few minutes later you both are on the highest point of Santo Padre over-looking the entire town as you look up at the starry night sky finding the biggest moon you’ve ever seen.

“Mind if I turn on the radio?”, he asks you.

“Sure no problem”, as he turns it to an oldies station.

“Oh, thank you Angel”, you say as you as he finally hands you your frozen treat licking your lips ready to dive in.

“De Nada Colibri”, says Angel as he stands beside you eating his swirl ice cream cone.

“My god this shit is soooo fucking good”, you say as Angel stares at you with his mouth gaped open as you eat your sundae.

“Damn mama”, is that how you sound when you cum on some good dick?

You nearly choke at his comment causing you to cough as Angel pat and rubs down your back.

You sit down your sundae on the hood of the car as you step to Angel leaning your soft body against his hard one looking into his dark sexy eyes. You run your fingers through his soft raven locks as a low growl rumble from his lips.

“Thank you, Angel. And for the record Papasito honestly, I wouldn’t know any good dick since I’ve never really had any”, you say removing yourself from Angel as you stand back next to him as you finished your sundae.

You hear you cellphone ring as Angel hands you your purse from inside the car as he grabs his cigarettes for a quick smoke. You reach inside to answer your call as other contents fall out hitting the ground without you noticing. You hop off the car to answer the call and you notice its Naomi calling as your back is facing Angel.

“Is everything okay honey?”, you whisper to her as you have her on speaker.

You hear a lot of giggling in the background as a male voice gives a quick command.

“Don’t take too long baby girl. I might start the second round without you”, goes Bishop yelling to Naomi.

“I won’t daddy, Just checking up on Y/N”, she shouts back sounding breathless and all giddy.

“Really cow you want to talk to me all post-coital and shit. I smell the sex through this damn phone”, as you both giggle.

“Have you had your legs up in the air tonight?” asks Naomi.

“No there won’t be any of that from me tonight darling just catching up with Angel that’s all”, as you here giggling and rustling in the background.

“I guess daddy gotta take whats his”, says Bishop grabbing and tickling Naomi.

“Wait daddy wa-”, says Naomi as Bishop cuts the conversation by kissing which turns to moaning as Naomi drops the phone. As you can hear them fucking Naomi moan Bishop’s name as you quickly hang up.

“Uhhhh Colibri do these belong to you?”, says Angel as you turn around to see him holding a line of Magnum XL Condoms as your mouth drops open as your face dead pans.

“WHAT THE FUCK? These are not mine Reyes”, as you snatch them from as he bellows with laughter out loud.

“Goddammit Scarlett”, you mutter to yourself stuffing them back into your purse as Angel is now staring at you. Backing you up against the car again. His warm tall figure has you pinned against the car as you suddenly feel his hardened bulge on your stomach.

“Damn mami you looking to go some rounds with me? I mean all you have to do is just ask querida”, as he continues to laugh as you smack his arm.

“You playing with fire little girl. Don’t make me put you over my knee and give you a nasty ass spanking gorgeous” says Angel as he looks at you with a hot rage in his eyes. As he runs his thumb across your lips again as a squeak escapes your lips as he bits down on his bottom one again.

Your entire body shudders as you toss your empty container in a trash can nearby as you needed to distance yourself from the tall man himself.

“In order to do that you have to catch me first speedy”, you say slowly back away attempting to run.

“You already know I will slow-poke”, says Angel as you break out running and he starts to chase after you around the car as you laugh and scream.

“Damn my feet hurt”, you wince as you stop running as you bump right into Angel stopping you in your tracks.

“Come here babygirl”, says Angel as he picks you up settling you back on the hood on the car.

“Here let me help you mama”, says Angel as he removes your heels massaging your feet with his rough hands sending chills all over your body.

“Hmmm, is that better mi amor?”, asks Angel as helps rub your feet again.

“Gracias Guapo”, as you grab Angel by his leather kutte pulling him into your space.

Suddenly music tickles your ears as the night D.J. introduces “These Arms of Mine” by Otis Redding.

“This use to be my mom and dad favorite song when I was a kid. A lot of times I would catch them slow dancing to this being all CUTE, SWEET and AFFECTIONATE”, you say as Angel listens to you.

“Should I turn it off?”, asks Angel as you grab his forearm stopping him.

“Please let it play”, as you pull him back towards you body as you two become silent listening to Otis crooning from the radio.

“These arms of mine, they are lonely. Lonely and feeling blue

These arms of mine, they are yearning. Yearning from wanting you

And if you would let them hold you. Oh, how grateful I will be

These arms of mine, they are burning. Burning from wanting you”

You smile up at him flashing those dimples of yours again as he remains silent taking in the contours and angles of your beautiful face. He notices the tiny mole you have just above your top lip on the left side of your face. His burning gaze stops at your full soft lips as he traces them with the pad of his thumb as he takes your lips in for another kiss. Slowly drags his long thick ringed fingers down your arms as your body shivers. But lingers with your bottom lip as he sucks and nibbles on it deepening the long kiss causing goosebumps to form on your body as you can not help but to grab onto his soft mane again. Suddenly your face is warm as you turn away from staring into his warm and extremely dangerous eyes. He grabs your chin forcing you to look at him again.

“Please don’t shrink from me baby girl. I know you are afraid of being hurt again. I overheard you and your girls talk about how you were treated like shit and I am sorry for that. But, let me reassure you that I am not him. Okay sweetheart?” says Angel as he kisses you on the lips.

“Si Papi,” you say as Angel’s forehead is resting against yours as you are playing with his hair again.

“Come on let’s get out of here”, as Angel helps you back into the car.

“Heading over to my place. Is that a problem colibri?” asks Angel as he looks at you.

“Uhhh, no problem. You can even toss the condoms if you want”, says Angel as he detects right off that you are a little uneasy about it.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do”, says Angel as he grabs your hand kissing it and pulling you closer to him across the long front seat.  While driving, he wraps one long arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. Suddenly you are sleepy as you rest your eyes a bit.

You arrive at Angel’s place as he lets you take a shower and get ready for bed. You find that he’s left you a black wife beater for you to wear as you pull an extra pair of boyshorts from you purse you keep for emergencies.

“Damn mama you were right about keeping extra underwear”, you say as you remember what she told as you were growing up.

Finally dressed for bed you crawl in under Angel’s sheets taking in his natural scent of sandalwood and leathery smoke. Suddenly you hear the shower turn off as you feel nervous for no damn reason.

“Damn it keep yourself together Y/N”, you say chastising yourself.

You couldn’t sleep so you sat up and noticed the moon again beaming bright through his bedroom blinds. You just stared at it as your back was facing the bedroom door. So, you were not aware that Angel walked in quietly as his lower half was wrapped in a bath towel hanging just below his Adonis belt. He was still damp from the shower as his hair was in his face. Your legs were folded to your chest as you let your hair down from the messy bun you had. Angel stopped and stared as you just did something that was so mundane but, to him it was so rare and beautiful. You felt the bed dip behind as Angel pulled you close as your back was too his shirtless chest.

“You smell nice querida” whispers Angel as he moves your hair aside to kiss your neck.

“Your body is so warm Angel”, you say as you stare at the moon in amazement.

“Look at me Y/N”, says Angel as you turn to face him.

“You’re doing it again colibri”, says Angel looking at you.

“Doing what Angel?”, you say as you roll your eyes.

“Hiding from me again is what you’re doing”.

“I have good reason to”, you say as a scowl forms on your face as Angel raises his eyebrows.

“How many women have you fucked from those parties or brought back here?”, you quizzed him.

“Whoa like what the fuck Y/N? That was some random as shit”, he says shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it Reyes you don’t need to tell me. You probably lost count by now”, you say as you turn away from him. He grabs your arm pulling you to face him again as he’s inches away.

“I take it that every man after this Marcus motherfucker has to pay for what the fuck, he did to you right?”, he says as he rubs his face in frustration.

“Doesn’t matter Reyes. I’m sure you’re looking to add another notch to your long belt”, you as you try to get out of bed. Angel grabs you by the waist tossing you on your back as his weight is on top of you.

“I’m not him querida”, he says leaning close to your face as you both are breathing heavy.

He kisses you and you don’t stop him at all. He grabs your small hands with his one large one holding them above your head. You whine as he kisses as you so desperately wanted to run your fingers through his soft locks again. He releases your hands as he roughly removes his shirt from your body exposing your perfect breasts.

“Man fuck this shit”, he grumbles taking one of your chocolate pearls into his mouth as your entire body nearly arches off the bed.

“Ugggghhhh Fuck Angel”, you squeal as he drags his thick fingers slowly to your center as he releases one dark pearl and devours the other as you grab onto his hair.

With a pop he releases your hardened nipple as he elevates his upper half. The moon shining through the blinds has cast a glow about him as you can see every beautiful line in his face. His thick dark eyebrows that compliment his eyes. Which are probably the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen as they take your breath away every time. You notice that he has two scars on his face that are healing. You sit up as your inches away as he bits his lower lip. You trail your thumb along those two scars as you hear a growl. As if your face to face with a wild Lion that remains calm only to your soft touch. You two switch spots as his back is to the headboard and you are in his lap with your back against his chest. He pinches a nipple as he whispers into your ear.

“Ride my leg mama.” he says as his hand disappears into your boy-shorts.

“Think of me having you on your back. Sucking on the beautiful fat pussy of yours. Just taking the very soul that belongs to me mi dulce”, he says as you move back and forth on his thigh.

“That’s it babygirl. Fuck daddy’s thigh. Just like that mama”, he says as his thick fingers make tiny circles on your clit as your body starts to sweat.

“I see daddy is making you work huh? You don’t mind that now do you amor?”, as he pinches one of your nipples as you gasp.

“Damn girl, you wetting up my fucking fingers. Here bonita, lick my finger like its cake frosting from a spoon”, he says as you suck your juice off his finger.  

“My fat pussy taste good Colibri”, whispers Angel as the first wave of an orgasm hits you.

“I’m going to cum Angel. Just keep rubbing my clit like that daddy”, you pant.

“HA!!! What you just say girl? Did I hear that right? Your clit? Your pussy?” says Angel with a dark chuckle as he rubs you faster as your moans get louder and out of control.

“Looks like I gotta put my mouth where my pussy is. Prove to you who this pussy belongs to”, says Angel as he ripped your boy-shorts to shreds flipping you onto your back as he dives in head-first throwing your legs over his shoulders.

You grab onto his hair as you ride toward that first orgasm. Your body becomes stiff as a board as the first orgasm washes over you taking some of your energy with it.

“That’s one mi amor. How many more can I get from my fat pussy before this night is over?” he asked as he dives right in again adding a thick ringed finger making you moan again. Feeling his beard against your core just heightened you toward the edge as another orgasm nears. It comes at you fierce as flashes of light appear from behind your eyes as you scream his name.

“Let me switch this up baby girl”, says Angel as your face was on the mattress as he continued his assault on your clit sliding a second-thick finger causing you to wail again. You swear this time the neighbors can hear you at this point but, all cares flew to the wind as he dragged a third earth shattering orgasm from you. You tried to push his mouth from your center.

“Are you running from my mouth-piece baby? Because that’s number 3. Guess I gotta make you pay for pushing me from my pussy”, laughs Angel.

“Ride daddy’s beard carino. Wet it up for me”, as he pulls you onto his face holding you there with his strong arms as your body is facing the window.

Between his scratchy beard, hot mouth and stiff tongue he latches onto it like it’s his only life source. Continues with sucking and humming driving you into a frenzy as you shake and rock against his mouth as you hold on to the headboard. Your body is on fire as from the sweat Angel caused your body to react. Your making incoherent noises as he pulls the fourth orgasm from you as your body is humming and your mind is in a daze of confusion. Little did you have time to react as he pulls a fifth orgasm from you as you know for sure with the half brain cell you have left you yell his name at the top of your lungs. He watches you open like a rose before him as he sucks the last of you as he catches you.

“Hey. Hey Colibri. Are you okay”, whispers Angel as he snaps his fingers to bring you down from that Euphoric Multi Orgasmic trip he just sent you on.

As he’s looking you in the face you notice that his beard is covered with your essence and his face is a shade of red smiling at you. Kissing you deeply as your body is still hot but, you still can’t talk. You lick his beard for extra measure as you taste yourself getting a throaty growl from him as he winks at you.

“You must ate some Pineapple today because that beautiful pussy tastes delicious” says Angel your knees go weak again from his comment.

“Here baby, let daddy take care of you” says Angel while bringing a warm washcloth to rub you down cooling your overheated body down.

Your voice finally comes back as you tell him “Thank you daddy”, you say as he changes the sheets on his bed and taking your wet clothes to the washer.

When he returns to his bedroom, he sees that you are fast asleep with a light snore coming from you as he smiles looking at you. He notices you have other tats along your body. Stars, Beautiful Flowers and a Care Bear he sees in various spots on your smooth skin. He kind of feels mad that you would cover up your beautiful skin. It is something he had had to get use to. But one thing for certain is that he is not going to let you slip between his fingers now that you have come back into his life. He would dare hate to ruin everything with you. Especially since Bishop and Taza were very vocal on if Angel broke your heart that they would hack him up to pieces and leave his body for the coyotes in the desert if he fucks things up with you. Of course, Angel Reyes would move Earth and the Heavens to have you as his own on a deeper meaning. He finally strips down naked as he climbs into bed next to your sleeping form. He places covers over the both of you grabbing you from behind pulling you close to him as he softly kisses your shoulder.

“Buenos Noches princesa” as Angel falls asleep with you in his arms.

The next morning you wake up as you stare at the ceiling with a smile on your face. You look to the right and notice that the spot is empty. You sit up to the aroma of fresh coffee as you head to the bathroom to relieve yourself. Despite being a dark-skinned woman Angel left some noticeable marks upon your body.  You looked at yourself in the mirror as you studied your reflection. Love bites on your neck and hips as you looked at yourself furthermore in the mirror. Your curly coif was all over your head as your eyes were satiated from the night before while your lips were puffy as you smiled and headed to the kitchen. His back was facing you as a dish towel was draped over his tatted shoulder as you stood still taking in the glorious view behind him. Wearing only black basketball shorts and barefoot.  

“You know I could smell you coming querida” says Angel separating eggs, bacon and potatoes onto two separate plates as you sit on a stool watching him move around the kitchen. You could not help it as you stepped down from the stool and walked into the kitchen.  

“You must be part wolf or something because you can always smell me coming towards you”, you say as Angel turns toward you gently kissing your forehead and smacking you on the ass as you hopped up onto the counter.

“Oh, and your phone has been going off all morning baby, You might want to check it”, says Angel.

You head to the coffee table in his living room to check your phone. You have 12 missed called and a shit load of texts from your girls. You already know what it’s about.

“Bitch are you dead or just haven’t come up for air yet” from Scarlett.

“You reach the top of Mount Reyes yet? Yodeling all over that dick”, asks Naomi with smiling emoji.

“Are you limping for last night with El Presidente”, you ask Naomi as she responds with a woman on crutches emoji followed by an emoji with a huge ass smile on its face as you laugh at her response.

“You look sexy in my black wife beater mami. I might just buy a shit load more of those to have on hand”, he says as his eyes feasted on you.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap baby girl”, says Angel as he pats his lap for you to sit on it.

“Why is he doing this?”, you whisper to yourself as you try your best to eat what Angel has prepared but how can you do this simple task.

Of course, last night at the clubhouse and with Angel after it was different before he bought you back to his house. Now you are swimming in uncharted territory as you think about what can possibly come being with Angel. You can attest that so far he is nothing like that fucking douche bag Marcus from 4 years ago.

All you want to do is eat your breakfast and be on your way. Not when this man is eating his food quietly with one hand while the other keeps rubbing your thigh by making lazy circles on it. You dare not look him in the eye because he is watching you like a hawk.

“Can I eat without you watching me like a fucking hawk dude”, you say as you slip up and look him in the eye as he sips his coffee as he remains completely silent as breakfast goes on.

“FUCK”, you think to yourself as you realized that you slipped up and looked at him. And the fucked-up thing is that he really didn’t do anything just took a drink of his coffee as you saw his dark dangerous eyes of the rim of his cup. You can’t help it, but your mind goes back to Angel’s bedroom of what transpired between you two.  Maybe it’s because he watched that coil inside pop and butterflies flap like crazy as you came multiple times last night as he watched you unravel, shed tears and beg for him to stop. You remember you wanted to stop just after the first orgasm that sent you over the edge.  

“Do you want daddy to feed you gorgeous?”, asks Angel bringing you back to the present.

“No, uhhh I got it Angel. Tttthank you”, you say as you dig in and try your best to eat but, you can still feel his hard-on under your ass from his basketball shorts as you try your hardest not to moan and grind on his lap.

You cannot enjoy the food like how you want to because Angel is assaulting your senses by being who he is and, in his presence, now. Which is 6’3” of sexiness on a fucking stick, a man’s man and a Lady Killer with his charm. Dudes wanted to be him, and women of course wanted to be fucked by him including yourself. You cannot deny that you are curious what his dick would feel like inside your slippery walls as you would collapse around him. Begging for him to fuck you harder, spank you, and pull your hair. Making you sweat and quiver at his touch. Demanding you to swallow his fat dick in your mouth catching his pearly essence.

“You care to share what’s going on mi amor?”, says Angel making you jump at his deep voice.    

“Honestly Colibri I want us to have breakfast first then I was gonna lick that sweet tasting pussy and fuck you into oblivion until you wet up my brown dick so you can pass out again”, says Angel as he’s semi hard right under you again as you dare not to speak of it.

[sadachmesarthim]

For the sentence starters I need 16 and 34 please!

this has porn in it, so ur all aware. links are sfw, text is not

for you, my dear, anything. sorry it took so long, i'm giving you what i have now. 'm gonna come back to it n do a second part when i can 😘

song for this one is UGH! by the 1975

@longlivestarker some light plug content 4 u! @bluestarker i love u for this one

he’s got peter pinned, yet again overtaking the younger superhero. they’d been training for a few hours at this point, and both were feeling the effects of such an intense workout.

it was tony that insisted they all start rigorous combat training. after stitching the universe back together, a good majority of the avengers realized they weren’t exactly cut out for extraterrestrial hand-to-hand.

peter honestly didn’t see the point. he was stronger than anyone there, faster. he could swing or run away if he really needed to... but tony continued to hound him over it. he caved, finally, after a solid two weeks of pestering from the older man. he only conceded when tony’d promised to leave him alone after one (1) trial session.

one session turned into two, then four, and quickly became several hours every single day. peter really wasn’t complaining at that point, though - it was a great opportunity to get tony shirtless, and he genuinely was getting better at kicking ass unaided. street vigilantism doesn’t really facilitate developing finesse, and he enjoyed sparring without consequences. what could he say, he loved teachable moments.

apparently a bit too much, from the position he found himself in.

tony might have been a “normal” human man - no super strength or enhanced awareness to give him an edge over his coworkers. what he *did* have, though, were eyes, and enough situational awareness to pick up on the kid’s sudden enjoyment of their previously 'useless' training time. his exposed, sweaty form did quite a bit to the young man in front of him, and tony wasn’t upset about it. like, at all. quite the opposite, actually - why else would he have been so adamant about being the person peter trained with?

but now, having pinned peter’s wrists to the floor in an attempt to subdue him, tony was rethinking his motives decision.

the sight of peter below him - drenched in sweat, pink and red embarrassment quickly overtaking his cheeks, his ears, his neck... absolutely helpless and trembling in tony’s grasp...

he found himself hard. this wasn’t the way his tuesday was supposed to go, but jesus, he wasn't complaining.

and peter, christ. the poor kid. tony could feel the piqued interest under his hips, peter visibly trying (and failing, miserably) to restrain himself from pushing up into the presence above him. he whimpered, soft and pathetic, like he was begging for tony to stop and keep going and fuck, do anything, please, all at once.

tony smiled, entertained by his desperation. “come on, kid. i know for a fact you can be louder than that.”

peter groaned. it was overwhelming, so much and not enough all at once, and oh my god tony was on top of him. tony was grinding back down on peter’s dick and enjoying it. his flush deepened, a desperate ‘nggh, oh fuck, god, tony, please’ wrenching itself from peter’s throat before he could think to stop it.

"love the noises you make, pete, fuck. you gotta slow down, though, baby, and tell me what you want." tony continued directing as much smooth pressure he could down toward the writhing figure beneath him, laughing lightly. peter sounded delicious like this, so fucking needy, & tony wasn’t planning on letting him up any time soon.

peter, already way too frustrated and way too turned on, took the opportunity when he saw it - just as tony was shifting his hips backward, peter thrust up, hooking an arm around tony's elbow and using the leverage to flip their positions.

"can't just pin me here & tell me to slow down. don’t start something you can’t finish, old man.” heat flooded through tony at the quip - he wasn’t prepared for the display of power, for the sass. this was so much better than what he’d planned for, so much better than the writhing & submissive boy he'd had just a few seconds ago.

“i know you like this, baby, but i think you’d like it a lot more if we took off our clothes.” and christ, peter did. he liked seeing tony underneath him - liked feeling his ass pressing against tony's cock, clothed or otherwise. but the idea sounded phenomenal - getting tony out of those stupid fucking track pants, being able to feel so much more.

he released tony's hands, allowing him to reach down and undo the tie at his waist. peter did the same, sitting up on his knees and giving them both enough space to strip down.

"jesus fucking christ, you're kidding." of course tony'd be sparring commando. only him, peter thought.

"what, don't say you haven't pictured this before. can you blame me for wanting to show up prepared??"

that's the fucked part of it - he had pictured it before - so many times. even before they made it routine, he'd fantasized about it. tony grabbing him, pinning him down in the suit, metal fingers shredding his million dollar combat suit with little more than a thought. dreamt about it - tony fingering him stupid on the mats, doors unlocked and open for anyone to catch them. imagined webbing them up, riding tony while he was literally stuck to the ceiling. making him completely helpless to peter's wants and needs.

he'd shown up prepared, before, too - even today. he'd worked himself open, stretching enough to take his favorite plug. half of training is mental, anyway. seeing if he could fight with a plug in was both filthy fantasy and a challenge.

"fuck, no, but christ tony... if you don't do something i swear to god i'll do it for you." that earned him another laugh, broken & tinged with lust - confirmation that tony'd been waiting for this just as long.

"you have no idea how good that sounds kid," tony mused, taking the moment to finally get his hands on the poor little spider. every muscle was twitching, so incredibly responsive to the circles tony was rubbing into his ilium. peter jerked into the contact, falling forward onto tony's chest.

the pressure between them mounted, spurred on by the bare contact of their cocks against one another. it was heady, fogging peter's mind with need. he'd wanted this so desperately, and was so not looking forward to it being over.

tony, the gentleman that he was, pushed peter up a bit. he spit excessively into his hand and - oh fuck, tony please, oh god, - began pulling peter off in earnest. he was entirely unprepared for just how good it felt, arching into tony's grasp. peter lurched, grinding his bare ass down tony’s groin & fucking up into his fist.

peter looked down just as something feral flashed through tony’s eyes. suddenly aware of just how wide his legs were spread, he realized: tony felt his plug. there’s no way he missed it.

tony released the hair in his left hand, snaking it down between peter’s twitching cheeks. he toyed with the plug, smirking when peter’s movement stuttered. tony hooked two fingers around the base, damn near *tearing* it out of him.

another feeling - something like pride and lust and jealousy all mixed - surged through him when he saw exactly what he pulled from peter’s ass.

in his hand, he held a custom “iron slut” plug. tony’d seen things like it before - he wasn’t a stranger to weird social media photo replies. this was so much more, though - gold colored metal shining under the fluorescents, little red rhinestones encrusting the flared end. tony’s colors, peter had tony’s colors inside him.

he growled, tossing the plug to the side. he reached back down, excited to feel excess lube still leaking from peter’s hole. he pressed two fingers in, savoring the small stretch he still needed to fully enter peter.

the kid cursed, clawing down tony’s shoulders. he knew he was sensitive but fuck, he’d never experienced anything like it before. he could feel everything, every single ridge of his fingerprints, every press of flared knuckles against his prostate. it was perfect, so balanced on the edge of too much and not enough.

peter was splitting at the seams, close to drawing blood with how deep his nails had dug into tony’s flesh. he keened, whiny moans sprinkled between gasps and cries of "fuck, fuck me tony please, need you so bad”

tony twisted his fingers, forcing peter to feel the ridges of his fingers everywhere. "oh god, nngh tony, fuck, mr. stark please, i'm-"

"don't hold back, baby. you gonna cum from just my fingers in your greedy little hole? tell me just how much you want it, baby." he ended each phrase with the drag of his fingertips along peter's prostate, just enough to push him over.

peter’s whole body shook, entirely not used to being handled the way it just had. he fell forward, pleasure overriding strength.

peter came with tony's name on his lips, breathy little puffs of air just brushing the skin of his shoulder. tony fucked him through it, only letting up and pulling out when peter’s sounds turned painful.

once he’d come down enough, peter sat himself up, blushing at the man under him. “i can’t believe we just did that in the gym, tony!”

“what, was that not how you wanted to spend your morning, petey?” tony smirked, already aware of the answer.

“oh my good shut up!”