#or grab bars. id settle for grab bars.

[aliosne]

Every day I dream of a step-in bath tub

[rainrot4me]

I dunno if u do requests however ID FUCKING EAT UP A TOBY SMUT SO MUCH OMG I DONT HAVE ANY CONTEXT OR WHAT I WANT I JUST WOULD 104% SWALLOW DOWN A SMUT FOR TOBY ‼️‼️ anyway as yk i love ur works and ily and idk you but anyway have a nice day/night :3 <3 AND TY!!!!😈

carley ily this is for you 🫶

Refuge For Two

Summary: You decide to spend the weekend at your family’s cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Injury, blood, wounds, fingering, thigh fucking, tics, inexperience, kinda first time, vaginal, desperation, cumming on thighs, slight restraint, biting, virgin

Words: 5.7k

As the tires of your Jeep skidded down the gravel path that winded to the cabin, relief finally settled.

Winter was always a rough time for you. As if seasonal depression wasn’t kicking your ass, your job definitely was. Working at a hospital had always kept you on your toes, but with the snow and ice set in, more and more accidents piled up in every room. It was nothing short of exhausting. 

So when you eventually had enough and called your parents asking to borrow the family lodge for a little rest and relaxation, you could’ve cried when they dropped off the keys to you the next morning. The cabin wasn’t far from your own home. You lived in a small town nestled off the side of the highway and the cabin was just up the mountains about an hour away. It was a perfect distance from your tiring job and busy life, giving you the time you needed for the weekend. And the drive wasn’t terrible. Dark clouds had settled in the sky, rolling over and swirling at the peak of the heavily wooded mountain. It made you all giddy to think of how comfortable it would be nestled up by the fire while snow coated the ground. Yeah, you needed this.

Pulling the Jeep under the carport adjacent to the large cabin, you shut it off and hopped out. The cold wind whipped at your face making your hair fling wildly. You hugged yourself, teeth chattering as you flipped the hatch open, threw your duffle bag over your shoulder, and hurried to the front door. 

The sun sat just above the mountain range, casting a blue haze over the dense forest through the thick cloud cover. To you, it was beautiful. The calm before the snowstorm that was soon to set in. You unlocked the door, hurrying inside and tossing your stuff on the kitchen island. The inside of the cabin was nearly just as cold as the outside, offering you little relief from the wind. Hurrying over to the living room, you gripped the few logs nestled by the fireplace and tossed them in along with a a couple of matches you found on the mantle. Warmth engulfed you immediately, the fire casting a comforting glow to the rest of the room. A couch and a loveseat sat close to the fireplace, a large rug bringing the room together nicely. 

Shuffling your shoes off, you kicked them by the door and rustled through the contents of your bag. Random warm clothes, a book you intended on reading, some junk food, and your phone. As you flipped the screen on, you noticed the no service notice in the upper corner before flipping the screen back off and setting your phone down. Whether it be from the high altitude or the dense forest surrounding you, your phone was no use this weekend. Somehow that made you happy, knowing you wouldn't have to worry about getting called in suddenly. 

You flicked on the small light above the stove and flicked the gas eye on, blue flames erupting from under the metal bars. You filled the kettle resting on the counter with water, placing it on the eye and grabbing a mug with a bag of tea. You quickly brought your bag to the small bedroom down the hall, changing into some comfier clothes before heading back to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling. Pouring the piping water into the mug and letting the tea bag rest, you cupped the mug in your hand and turned to the living room. 

Through the pulled curtains, you could see the sun was setting low behind the dense trees, a dark pink tint painting the sky through the thick cloud cover. Snow had begun to fall, little flakes of white decorating the trees and ground. The sound of the fire crackling just pulled it all together, driving you to nestle into the corner of the couch with a blanket and sip your warm tea. This was the perfect retreat from your busy life. Nothing but the sounds of nature and fire to keep you company, an amazing contrast to the beeping of monitors and yelling of patients. This was the solitude you craved.

When finally the sun slipped under the ridge and the sky became completely dark, you flipped open your book and clicked on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The snow had piled up a couple of inches now, the wind whipping outside the cabin and creating a low whistle all around you. It was slightly unnerving, but in the security of your warm cabin, you didn’t mind it all that much. You became lost in the pages of your book, your tea and the fire creating an atmosphere where your brain slowly crept away. So when you heard a loud thunk outside, you had to close your book and lean forward, unsure if your brain was playing tricks on you. But when you heard another loud thunk just outside the cabin walls, you jumped out of your seat and tugged the curtain back, peering into the dark storm. It took you a minute to adjust your eyes, but when you saw the figure of someone curled up near a large tree, panic coursed through you. You had to double-take just to make sure you were seeing things correctly. What the hell was someone doing this far up the mountain?? 

You wanted to shut the curtains and hide under a blanket, more scared than anything. But being a nurse, your caring instincts took over and you slid on your boots and jacket, quickly hauling open the cabin door. The wind blinded you briefly, the heavy snow whipping against your face and chilling you to the bone. But as you rounded the cabin and trudged through the thick snow, you came up on the figure, realizing it was a boy, curled in on himself and shaking violently. Sliding your hands under his shoulders, you hauled his arm over your neck and hoisted him up. He rested his body weight against you, dragging his feet as he let you pull him to the cabin door. Hauling him inside, you slammed the door shut and brought him to the couch, laying him down quickly. 

His body still shook violently, the warmth of the fire fighting hard to warm his body. His blue lips chattered, the patches on his face dark and stuck against his skin. Under the light, you could now see the large tear in the arm of his heavy jacket, dark blood soaking through. He wore heavy boots and dark jeans, his curly brown hair stuck to his forehead as he panted for air. But what caught your attention was the hatchet strapped to his belt. Alarming. You quickly realized he was just a boy barely scraping his twenties, he was taller than you, but lanky and not much larger than you. He reminded you of your patients, feeble and sickly. 

Snapping back, you quickly slid his arms out of his jacket, his long-sleeved shirt underneath torn to shreds at the arm as you finally caught the wound: three large gash marks cut into his arms, tearing the flesh and bleeding quickly. You panicked at the sight, wondering what on earth could have caused that. You didn’t know of any mountain lions in the area, but even then the claw marks were too big for them. There was little time to think as you sprinted into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. Pulling it open, you groaned at the lack of sewing needles or sterilizing spray, just some alcohol wipes and rolled elastic bandages. It would have to do. You wet a wash cloth and brought the rest of the supplies back to the couch, where the boy was beginning to stir.

He tried to sit up, but your comforting hand pressed his chest back down against the couch. He was freezing and still shaking wildly, but at least his lips were returning to a somewhat normal color. “It’s okay. Lay down, I’m here to help.” You cooed to him, rolling his sleeve up to his shoulder and examining the scratches closer. They weren’t as deep as they seemed, but the blood was spilling quickly. If you didn’t hurry, he could likely pass out. You pressed the wet washcloth to the wound, the boy stirring immediately. He was mumbling something you couldn’t understand, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist in an attempt to pull yours away, but you resisted. You pressed a hand on his cheek, reassuring him softly as you cleaned at the wound, the blood slowly clotting under the warm rag. 

He was still mumbling, whispers of no and please falling from his lips, but he had quit tugging at your wrist. His eyes were still shut, pupils moving quickly underneath in a silent panic. When the wound was clean to your liking, you tossed the rag and tore open an alcohol wipe, bracing your arm against his chest. “This is going to hurt…” You warned, angling his arm and pressing the wipe against the wound and braced for the panic that you were sure would come. But when he barely flinched, his mumbles unwavering, you raised your eyebrows in alarm. It was odd, but you ultimately chalked it up to his body still being numb from the cold, his pain receptors not fully awake yet. Once the wound was sterile, you wrapped the flesh-colored bandages around his arm tightly, encasing the wound and hopefully stopping the bleeding. You secured them in place before looking at the boy’s face, slightly jostled when you caught him staring at you through hooded eyes.

You rolled his sleeve back down, sitting up and off of his chest and giving him a good once over, satisfied you couldn’t see any more injuries. “That should keep it clean.” He glanced between you and his arm, rising himself up slowly to lean his head against the armrest of the couch. When he did, his neck twitched violently, eyes squinting shut. It caught you off guard, but he seemed to ignore it as soon as it happened. He smiled at you lazily, reaching his arm to brush the hair from his forehead. “T- Thank you.” He said hoarsely, voice still raw from breathing in the cold outside. Stutters. Tics. So all the twitching his body was doing wasn’t just from the cold. You recognized the movements, seeing them in other patients. Who was this kid?

You sat across from him on the couch, catching your breath. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyes flicking between his sickly face and the hatchet strapped at his hip. He took notice of this, sitting up further onto his elbows. “Uhh… Hun- Hunting. For bobcats.” He smiled quietly, unsure of his own answer. You wanted to question further, wanted to press as to why he chose the night a snowstorm was coming through to go hunting. But you didn’t. You just watched the fire crackle. “What’s y- your name?” He caught your attention again as he fully sat up, sliding his legs off the couch and landing his feet on the floor. He was recovering fast, the warmth entering his face again, his strength rebuilding strangely quickly. “[Y/N].”

“Thank you, [Y/N]. I’m T- Toby.” His shoulder twitched at your name, his eyes trailing to the fire as well. The situation grew tense quickly, your mutual silence growing too loud. “I’m a nurse. Couldn’t just let you die out there.” You smiled at him, standing and shuffling to the kitchen where you repoured your cup of steaming hot water, this time grabbing another cup. You placed a tea bag into each, cupping them in your hands and bringing one to Toby. He took it reluctantly, staring into the liquid and swirling it around before taking a sip. He sunk into the couch as the warmth pressed his mouth, the taste comforting him. He drank the rest in two big gulps, setting the mug down before popping up. 

“Well, b- better get goi- going.” He laughed awkwardly, springing around as if he wasn’t just on the brink of hypothermia. You sat up quickly, swallowing the rest of the tea in your mouth. “What?! You were nearly frozen to death. Absolutely not.” You bit harshly, blocking his way to the door as he scooped up his jacket. Toby looked at you curiously, unsure why you were giving him the decency like it wasn’t common courtesy. “The storm won’t stop till morning. Till then, there’s no way you're going back out there.” You huffed, sitting him back down on the couch.

You didn’t trust him. The hatchet at his side and the uncertainty of his story made you very suspicious. But he was just a boy, definitely not much older than you. You couldn’t send him back out there on a good conscience. Although his constant ticcing and jerking were catching you off guard, the genuine concern for him overrode any fears you could have. After fighting with yourself, you made up your mind. He wasn’t anything to fear.

“So, Toby. Are you from around here?” You mused, sipping down the rest of your mug before grabbing him and bringing them to the sink. Sliding off your boots and jacket, you tossed them near the door, scooping up Toby’s and neatly folding them on the loveseat across from you. He smiled. “Yeah. Got so- some, uhm, family who live near h- here.” He stared out the window as he spoke, fingers fidgeting with each other as he watched the snow whip through the air. You deduced that he wasn’t a very good liar. But whatever, you didn’t know him and he didn’t know you. 

As the storm outside thickened, a shared silence hung over the two of you. Around an hour had passed since you brought him inside, but little had been discussed between you. Toby stared out the window, looking for something you didn’t know. He had kicked off his boots and sat them aside, laying into the couch comfortably. His hatchet perched on the coffee table beside him. You kept to your book, occasionally glancing up to study him. It was odd, even though he had warmed up, his skin was still a sickly pale color, and the only sign of life was the dark red tint over his cheeks and ears. The bandages still clung tightly to his cheeks, a large one on his left covering a rather large wound from what you could tell. Peeking through the shreds in his sleeve, you could see the bandages on his arm were stained dark with blood. Closing your book, you reached for the first aid kit, stirring Toby to look at you. “Need to change your bandages,” You sighed, unwrapping the roll of cloth. “What got you anyways?” He flinched, rubbing his hands together. He was way too nervous for such a simple question. “Bobcat.” Another lie. If he wasn’t going to tell you the truth, there was no reason for you to push further. You slid closer to him, rolling his sleeve up again but the shreds of cloth kept sliding down. “H- Here.” Toby leaned back, hooking his hands under his shirt pulling it over his head, and tossing it to the floor. 

What you were met with took you back with shock. This guy was decently ripped. Toby was thinner, but his abs and chest muscles complimented him perfectly. His shoulder and arms were thicker too, veins stretching down his arms and muscles pulsing under his weight. Clusters of freckles ran over his skin, hiding the deep blush he sported. The clothes he wore hid his figure nicely, who would’ve guessed he was secretly ripped? The twitch of his neck brought your attention back to his arm. You could see the small smirk on his lips as you blushed, embarrassment creeping over you as you unclipped his soiled bandages. The wound was a lighter color now, the dark bruising around the wound healing nicely but the puffiness of infection still remained. “You’ll probably need stitches. But it’s looking better.” You grinned, tearing open another alcohol wipe and sliding it over the damaged skin. When he didn’t flinch or hiss, your confusion only grew. Maybe he had a good pain tolerance. Or maybe the cut had severed a nerve. Either way, he was going to need to have this looked at professionally. 

“It’s o- okay. My fam- family has a doctor.” He answered, lifting his toned arm up to let you slide the bandage under and wrap it tightly around once clean. You snugged the bandage on, leaning back to make sure everything was in place before packing the kit up and sliding it back onto the coffee table. “I don’t have any painkillers. Hopefully, the pain isn’t too bad.” You leaned back into the couch, straining yourself not to glance down at his chest again. He smiled, running his hand through his curled hair. “I’ll be al- alright.” He leaned back as well, angling his body to face you as you curled your legs closer to yourself. There was that awkward silence again. The tension between you two was thick, your eyes refusing to look at him for fear of embarrassing yourself again. Toby, however, kept his eyes all over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him studying every inch of you. It made you blush. “How c- can I thank you?” He questioned, running his hand over his bandaged arm, admiring the neatness of it. You glanced at him, eyes flicking down to his stomach for a split second, but it was already too late. You caught the happy trail running up from under his belt line, his v-line angling lewdly against his pale skin. You blushed hard, eyes flicking up quickly, but by Toby’s expression, you knew you were caught.

He sat back smugly, pressing his back into the couch and spreading his legs just a little too far. The face you made was embarrassing. Your eyes wide, cheeks dark, and lips parted ever so slightly. Toby knew what he was doing. But he just started into your eyes, freckled cheeks rounded from his cheeky smile. “I think I- I know…” He cooed, pressing a hand flat on the cushion only inches from your knee. You shrunk into yourself, his soft words making you all kinds of squeamish. This was bad. You were young, sure. Your job was always your main focus, so you never really had time for relationships with someone, your experience only went as far as you did in high school with little hookups or sly touches. You were inexperienced, so to speak. You couldn’t embarrass yourself further by revealing how little game you got. You weren’t a virgin, but you definitely weren’t confident in yourself. And you definitely did not intend on getting laid this weekend. 

“Uhm… I’m not- not really…” You lost your words when his fingers brushed your knee, the cold digits sending chills through you. Toby sat up, looking nowhere but into your eyes, gauging every reaction as his hand slid over your knee and slowly up your leg. You placed your hands over him, stopping his trail mid-thigh. “Listen, you don’t, uh, have to…” His fingers gripped your thigh tightly, rubbing his thumb across the goosebumps on your skin. You glanced at his face, the deep blush on his cheeks heavy under the warm light. “I’ll st- stop if you say so, but I j- just want to thank y- you,” He mumbled quietly, eye flicking nervously between your face and the rest of your body. “Besides. It’s ju- just us out here.” 

You were insanely nervous, thoughts running a mile a minute as you contemplated your options. But when his fingers squeezed your thigh again, it made it harder to think. Your eyes flicked between his hand and that pretty face, his nervous smile making you flustered under his cold touch. Before you could stop yourself, you were nodding, slipping your bottom between your lips, and chewing nervously. Toby smiled, his bright eyes laying all over you. You slid your hands off him, gripping the couch underneath you as he slid both of his hands up your thighs, fingers brushing under the bottom of your shorts. He towered over you know, his tall figure encapsulating your easily as he ran his hands up your sides. You were a blushing mess, face burning when he brought his lips dangerously close to your skin. “Relax…” He cooed, arm jerking slightly before he slid his cold hand under the hem of your sweatshirt. He was met with goosebumps rising on your stomach, they trailed his fingers as he explored but his eyes were locked on yours. 

He brought his face down to press soft kisses against your cheeks. He perched on his knees, both hands now wandering over your body and reaching to unclasp your bra. You raised your back to help him, squirming when Toby dipped his head lower to kiss your neck. He slid your bra off, tossing it to the ground before he quickly palmed your tits, massaging the mounds under his cold hands. You gasped under the cold touch, nipples perking to attention in his hands as he sucked on your neck. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his tongue slid up your neck to your jaw, raising his head up to meet your eyes. He flicked at your nipples, squeezing the nubs under his fingers and smiling at your squirming. “So c- cute.” 

You were burning up, a dampness already showing on your panties from the excitement. You could barely contain yourself when he sat back against the couch, pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed against his bare chest. He slid his arms around you, the tight muscles tensing and releasing as he slid his left hand under your sweater and quickly grabbed your tit, massaging lazily. His lips met your neck again, sucking on the warm skin as he slid his right hand down the waistband of your shorts, messing with the elastic. You whined under his touch, feet perched on either side of his thighs as he slid his hand to your panties and pressed further still. When his fingers slid against your folds, you finally gasped, reaching a hand back to grip his hair as he continued to abuse your neck with kisses. “S- So wet already…” He groaned, biting softly on your shoulder. He pressed his fingers further, his digits sliding through the slick between your legs and spreading your lips further. He hummed against you, fingers finally landing on your clit and making you flinch. When he circled the nub, it was sloppy and rough, making you whine. The stimulation was a lot, making your knees close together tightly around his hand. When he refused to let up, you hissed your sensitivity. 

“Toby-” You whined, sliding your hand down his arm and under your shorts, gripping his hand to stop his movements against your sensitive clit. “Slow… please…” You hissed, pressing your fingers on top of his and rubbing slowly, beckoning him to follow your rhythm. When he repeated your movements, you gasped loudly, laying your head back on his shoulder. “Sorry…” He mumbled against your shoulder, peppering little kisses across the skin. He continued to slowly massage your clit, his cold fingers a wonderful sensation against your burning core. It didn’t take long until he got the rhythm, pinching your nipple and rubbing your clit deeply, enough to make you buck up into his hand. You slid your hand into his curly hair, moaning loudly when he slid his fingers deeper to press against your entrance. When his fingers slid inside, you gripped his hair tightly, your moans reverberating off the walls. His fingers stretched you nicely, the slow pump of his wrist making your mouth hang open. It was pure bliss. His fingers curled against your walls as he pressed his palm against your clit, rubbing quickly. “Toby… Oh my… oh my God…” You moaned, grinding your hips in time with his fingers curling into you. He was kissing behind your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he hummed. His pace only grew, fingers curling deeper as you felt your core knotting up wonderfully. His palm nudged against your clit harder, tugging the nub as his fingers pressed deeper against your walls. You felt the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you came on his fingers, walls gripping the digits tightly as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm. You were panting, leaning back against him as he slid his fingers out of your soaked cunt. 

Toby was smiling against your shoulder as he pulled his hand out of your shorts, admiring the way they glistened with your arousal. That’s when you felt it, his cock twitching under your back, trapped inside his jeans. You breathed deeply, pressing off of him and standing up. He whined for a moment, reaching for you until you began to slide down your shorts, then your panties. Toby sat back against the couch, blushing hard as your plump ass stood in front of him. It just made his cock twitch harder in his jeans, begging to be let out. Your sweater was next, pulled over your head, and tossed to the ground. It was all Toby could do not to just cum right there. Your body was so stunning, every curve and divot of your skin making him harder.

Before you could turn around, he pulled you back against him, setting you in his lap. He was quick to unzip his jeans, tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free and nudge against your back. You blushed hard, pulling your legs back to straddle his thighs, your bare ass pressed firmly against his twitching cock. You stabilized your hands on his knees, leaning forward lewdly as your arched your back. You glanced back, cunt pulsing with excitement as Toby spit into his hand and began to lazily pump his cock, eyes never leaving your ass. You pressed back against him, eyes pleading when he finally glanced up at you. “Toby…” You whined, grinding your ass down against his cock when he slid his hands to grip your hips. 

“Shit… Y- You’re so, so hot. Gunna fuc- fuck you soo good.” He mumbled, neck twitching with excitement. He gripped your hips tight, tugging them up so he could nudge his cock under you, pressing the head snugly against your entrance. You stared back at him, stomach fluttering at the desperate faces he was making. When he positioned himself, he gripped your hips again, pressing down slowly. The stretch was glorious, your pinched moans ringing as he pressed you down further and further on his cock. When he finally bottomed out, your warm walls pulsed tightly around him, adjusting to his thick length. He was groaning, fingernails digging into your hips as he pressed you to move, tugging you forward and back on his cock. You were a moaning mess, cunt throbbing around him as he ground your hips down on him. You gripped his knees tightly, grinding back against the length inside you as he pressed against your walls. It was heavenly.

This is exactly what you need. All of your stress of the week prior melted away as Toby tugged your hips up, sliding you up his length before pressing you back down. He kneaded your hips and ass, his cold hands massaging all of your sore spots and melting you into him. You were losing yourself on his cock as he thrusts up into you, your hips bouncing down to meet him. He was groaning, pressing his back against the couch so he could get a better angle to thrust up into you, his lips hanging open. His cock nudged deep inside of you, every thrust pressing against your walls and making you gasp. “You’re so- so pretty [Y/N]. Riding me so g- good.” He whined, gripping your hips tighter and jerking you on his cock. You could only brace yourself on his knees as he fucked you on his length, controlling your pace with his tight grip. 

“F- Faster, Toby… ahh-” You groaned, glancing back at him as your mouth hung open. He was focused on your ass, concentrating deeply to make sure he fucked you the best he could. Truth was, Toby was just as inexperienced as you. But he was bound and determined to treat you the best he could because, God, were you treating him good. He glanced up at your pleading face, hips stuttering as his arms twitched around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You laid your head back against his shoulder again, perching your feet into the couch and opening your knees wider. At this angle, Toby could thrust up into you better, nudging his cock deeper inside and sending you hollering. His cock stretched you wider, his thrusts pressing firmly against your g-spot with every move on his hips. You tried to arch, but Toby’s hand gripped you tightly around the waist, holding you still so he could piston up into you quickly. 

‘Oh my- oh my God!” You hissed, tangling your hands in his curly hair and tugging sharply. He moaned loudly into your shoulder, retaking his place of biting into your skin, but this time he didn’t hold back. His teeth pressed firmly against the muscle in your shoulder, making you roll your eyes. He slid his right hand down your waist, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and circling deeply. That’s what sent you over. You squealed, mouth hanging open as you stuttered up into his fingers, chasing your orgasm. Toby noticed this, holding you tighter and thrusting as deep as he could, relishing in the way your walls began to clamp down against him. “Co- Come on,” He groaned, sucking on the bite mark he planted on your skin. “Come f- for me…” His fingers slid on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

When you felt that familiar wave crash over you, Toby was quick to press deep inside of you and hold himself there, letting your walls constrict around him as you cried out. The tightness made him wince, using all of his willpower not to spill inside of you, groaning when you clenched down again. Your clit throbbed as Toby slowly rubbed you through your orgasm, his still-cold hands wrapping you tightly against him. Before you could catch your breath, Toby was pulling out of you and quickly pushing your legs together. He slid his cock in between the gap in your thighs, holding your legs still as he quickly stuttered his hips up, rubbing his length between your sensitive folds. You hissed, the quick pace making you squirm as he fucked your thighs, your ecstasy slick on his length.

Before you knew it, he was spilling on top of your thighs, moaning desperately into your ear as he held your waist tightly. There was… a lot. Several stripes of cum coated your legs as his thrusts slowed down to a dull grind, riding his orgasm out. “Oh my- y fuck…” He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. As you both caught your breath, he slowly sat you off of him, grabbing his torn shirt off the ground and wiping your legs clean. He was twitching all over, pleasure still riding through him as his tics became sporadic, almost intense. He grabbed a blanket and you grabbed him, your bodies laying snugged against each other as Toby threw the blanket over the both of you, surrounding you with warmth. He reached up, flicking off the lamp on the coffee table and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his body. 

“T- Thank you,” Toby mumbled, tucking your head under his chin as he breathed deeply. His twitching had calmed, only the slow stutter of his voice left. In the soft glow of the fireplace, you nuzzled into his chest, breathing his scent in deeply. The storm still raged outside, the wind whipping against the house and howling lowly. You could feel yourself drifting as Toby’s fingers drifted along your spine, little goosebumps rising in their wake. For the first time in a long time, you were relaxed and calm. The stress of work and life had left you as you just lay in Toby’s arms, swallowed by his scent. 

-

When you stirred awake from the sunlight shining through the windows, you immediately noticed the emptiness beside you. You sat up, the blanket sliding off your bare chest and sending cold chills across your skin. You pulled the blanket around you, shuffling to the window and peeking out. The snow was beginning to melt, the sunlight reflecting brightly off of what was left from the night before. As you turned back to the living room, there was no sign of Toby. No boots or shirts were scattered on the ground. No hatchet on the coffee table. But what you did see, was his hoodie still neatly folded on the loveseat across from you. You smiled to yourself, picking the clothing up and examining it. It was rather large, swallowing you whole as you slid it over your head. But it smelled like him. 

When the weekend was up and you packed your Jeep full, you sighed, craving desperately to stay and abandon work. You glanced into the thick forest, longing for some sign of Toby, but knowing you wouldn’t get one. Groaning, you slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the warm air relieving you from the cold outside. 

As you drove back down the mountain, you couldn’t help but stare into your rearview mirror at the early morning fog lying low amongst the trees. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or your desperation making you see things. But as you glanced back one more time, you could’ve sworn you saw a curly-haired boy amongst the trees. 

But when you looked back again, there was nothing there. Nothing but miles and miles of forest.

Even still, you smiled.

This was a request for @carmoronic!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[snoopychris]

introducing… dad’s best friend!chris x reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (DO. NOT. DO. THIS.), no use of y/n, reader has daddy issues, chris is 33 and has a daddy kink, a little dirty talk, dumbification if you squint. oh and also dad!chris.

“so you have kids? you look like one yourself but… maybe i’m just flattering you. but you gotta be at least 18 to be at the airport alone and you’ve got a vertical ID so you’re at least 21.” the bartender speaks, continuing to shake your drink all around.

you chuckle and shake your head, leaning your chin further into your chin. “no i don’t. i’m 23 though…i should probably get on that or something. i don’t even got a boyfriend… just visiting my dad and his new family for the new years. you? any kids?” he sends you a smile as he places the drink in front of you, tasting it from a straw before handing it off. “what is this again?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you take a sip.

the man across the counter chuckles as he grabs another drink ticket, making the beverage all while conversing with you. “i call it the chris. named after the best damn bartender this place has ever known. me. duh. but yes. i got a son. he’s 4. his names owen.”

“he probably looks up to you. don’t screw him up. but with all that aside, how can you be so sure of that?” you whisper, licking your lips as you grab the drink from the counter once more.

“i’ve been workin here since i was 18 years old. first 3 years i was only washing dishes but ive seen a good amount of bartenders come and go. i know im the best bartender that’s ever been here. 15 years of evidence.” his voice is more confident than cocky. a kind of attitude you’d kill to be in bed with. you hum in acknowledgment, looking at your suitcase besides you as the airport PA begins to speak again. the words are incomprehensible, but chris seems to understand them. some flight is leaving from gate B17.

“you think it’s weird or pathetic or something if im drinking at an airport bar at 2pm to avoid seeing my father?” you question, stirring the drink around with the small plastic straw.

“i’ve seen people here blackout drunk at 11am. i think you’re fine. what’s your name again, kid?” he asks, his lips parting as he pours a beer for a man besides you. you give him your name and he hums, handing you a piece of chocolate from behind the bar. “i think kid suits you better.” you furrow your brows at the gesture, reluctantly taking the sweet. “kid, just take it. it’s a piece of chocolate. no harm done if you take it. you don’t even gotta eat it. just get that look off your face. you look sad. you’re too pretty to look that sad.”

you blush at his words, popping the chocolate into your mouth. you slide your empty glass back across the bar, sending the bartender a smile- a real smile- and thank him honestly. “what time does your shift end?” you question, noticing another bartender begin to settle in.

“my shift? the second that you tab out. you want another and keep enjoying my company or you gonna head to your dad’s house?” he teases, washing the glass you handed to him. you shake your head and sigh, sitting up straight. “should probably head home. can i get the tab?” you whine, leaning your arm and head on the marble counter.

“nah i got it. get outta here. go see your dad. be nice to him.” he smiles, clocking out for the day. you slowly walk away, hesitantly pulling your bag with you.

when you finally make it out of the airport after an excruciatingly long walk, you let out a sigh. you knew you had four options. call a cab, call an uber, call one of your high school friends, or call your dad. you take a moment outside to gather your thoughts, only being brought back to reality when you bump into somebody behind you.

“shit i’m so sorry!” you groan, turning to profusely apologize to whoever was the victim. you smile when you notice that it’s chris. “oh. you again. following me are you?” you tease, poking at his shoulder.

“why you still here?” he questions. even though he hardly knew you, he felt like he still had an authority over you for no reason other than he was older than you by 10 years. you shrug as you let out a sigh, looking around. “i just don’t wanna see him yet. i mean… i dunno.”

chris sends you a look of remorse but then pulls you into a tight hug, one you clearly needed. he rubs a hand over his mouth before speaking. “you trust me enough to come back to my place? just till you feel good enough to go to your dads.” the look you gave him made him practically collapse.

your back was arched to a point that you didn’t even know you could reach. your face was buried into a pillow that was most definitely being stained with your mascara. “take it. thaaaaatts a good girl. take that dick. fuck you’re so tight.” chris speaks, his pants getting heavier with each of his thrusts. he’s holding your hands behind your back while you’re pushing yourself back onto his dick. it’s practically impossible for him to go any deeper into you, but you try to get him farther anyway. his grip on your wrists tightens when you let out another one of your whines. he can tell that you’re trying to spit out a sentence but that you’re unable to based on the cockdrunkness you’re experiencing. all you manage to achieve is a “c-cumming” and even that comes out all whiney and in chris’s words ‘pathetic.’ “y’gonna cum? fuck yeah you’re gonna cum. come on, pretty. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he whispers into your ear, leaving a mark on your neck as he lets go of your hands. your orgasm takes over your body, and any control of yourself you had left is out the window. you squirm and shake while chris is just smirking behind you, continuing his thrusts. he pulls out once you’ve settled down, spurts of cum falling onto your ass and lower back.

chris isn’t an asshole. he helps you clean yourself up and look presentable enough to go visit your dad. he even offered to drive you, but you refused because of how close it was. the arrival at your dads house was… fine. his new wife was fine and his four year old son was fine. it was all just fine. you could tell your dad tried cheering you up multiple times but it never worked.

the next day was the same shit, different day. you had to get through the day acting like you liked your step mother, had to get through the day acting like you tolerated children, and had to get through the day acting like your father didn’t hurt you when he left 6 years ago. you’re half tempted to go to the airport just to go to the bar. a knock on the door catches your attention, only furthered when your dad calls out to you. “hey honey can you get that? that must be your brothers friend and his dad, we’re buddies!. i invited them over for lunch!” he yells, to which you comply to almost immediately.

you open the door slowly, your eyes adjusting to the brightness of the outside world. a breath gets stuck in your throat when you’re met with the same eyes you saw at the bar. chris, whose eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, covers his sons ears as he speaks for both of you. “shit.”

a/n: new au who cheered! i did! i did! i finally get to write for chris thank GAWD cause as a chris girl i sure write a lot for matt.

tags(reply or message to be added): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @ayesha-eroticaa

[sagi-tori-ous]

INVASION OF PRIVACY

It was roughly 10 at night when Poppy stumbled into her shabby apartment. The sky was pitch black — winter was approaching so daylight seemed to lessen — and a chill swirled in with the wind that seemed to pick up a bit since Poppy had first departed.

She had gone out with a few friends who didn't know how to keep time the best and always somehow got alcohol to be the main hydration system for them — despite its dehydrating qualities. Poppy wasn't drunk but even the small amount of liquor in her body set it ablaze.

Poppy threw her jacket off and keys somewhere she'd curse herself for forgetting later and staggered into her quaint kitchen, she grabbed one of her glass cups and filled it up with tap water that was probably flooded with tons of metals and chemicals that a person's body shouldn't be filled with — but who was going to stop her.

She trailed her hands absentmindedly up and down her body, grasping at the side of her neck lightly before trailing that very same hand just over her breasts and keeping it flat on her stomach.

She guzzled the water down with small droplets escaping, wandering down her chin and almost making it to her neck before she wiped it off.

It wasn't until she finished her glass of water did she hear the light murmur of her tv playing in her conjoined living room.

“Fuck.” she cursed, making her way there but the blare of her phone stopped her, she dug her hand into the back pocket of jeans pulling it out and answering without looking at the caller id.

“Yelloo!” she slightly slurred into the phone, less from intoxication and more from the fact that her energy bar was draining fast at this point.

“Hello my ass!” it was Poppy's friend on the other end, her tone was scornful. “ You said you would call first thing when you got home!”

Poppy rolled her eyes,“Calm down.” She started walking back to the TV to turn it off, not wanting to run her bill up even more “ I literally just got here, I didn't do anything besides get a drink of water mom.” she was thankful for their concern and was going to for sure call them but she wanted to get settled before anything.

Poppy stood in front of the television, a Male news anchor gazed back at her —she turned the appliance off — just barely catching the headline which said something about ‘aliens’, which made poppy scrunch her face up and shake her head. The news seemed to lose its meaning more and more everyday.

Her friend was still lecturing her through the phone but Poppy's mind just trailed, “ Okay okay, I get it Mel, I love you, I'll talk to you tomorrow, goodbye.” she rushed and hung up the phone, not letting ‘Mel’ get another word in.

She let out an agitated sigh.

Poppy shut off the minimal lights that she had turned on when she returned and traversed her way towards her bedroom. Relaxation to the highest degree was the only thing on her mind.

She grasped at the light switch and scrolled through the many colors her LED lights had and stopped on the purple color, giving her room that tranquil lavender hue that she loved. It was relaxing yet sensual, somehow — it described how Poppy was feeling in the moment.

Poppy glided over towards her dresser, going into the exact drawer that held her vibrator — it was pink, it wasn't extremely long (about 6 inches) and it obviously vibrated — it got the job done and that's all that mattered, especially now.

“Hey buddy!” she cood at it, getting even more excited at the thought of her pussy dripping all over it while she fucked herself through as many orgasm as she could.

She threw it onto her queen sized mattress and started undressing, she already unknowingly took her shoes off somewhere near the door — she peeled her snug high waisted dark wash jeans off, leaving her standing only in her subtle yellow thong that contrasted beautifully on her bronze skin.

Next was the random cropped sweater she threw on just before leaving the house, under it was a matching bralette to the thong. The sheer imagery of herself turned her on more.

Poppy loved herself, some could say in a cocky way — but wasn't that the best. She knew her body like the back of her hand, as she should, and loved pleasing herself. She loved figuring something out with her body that nobody else could. The thrill was like none else.

She slid on top of her fluffy comforter, making sure her body was positioned in the most comfortable way — she also aligned herself so she could be facing the mirror that adorned her wall.

Poppy spread her legs and pushed them towards her chest, she could just make out her figure in the mirror due to the purple lights. It added a different layer of scenery, a sight Poppy loved.

Her left hand grasped at her left breast, she kneaded it through the thin cloth. Twisting her nipple between her fingers, a small whimper left her mouth. A small pool slowly seeped through her panties, making the fabric turn a bit sheer, outlining her pussy lips.

She moved the bralette down to let her nipples free, the clothing article still grasped the cusps of her breasts — the air hit the buds making them harden all the more. The same hand came back up and dipped into her mouth, she wet the fingers enough before bringing them back down and circling the erect nipple.

Her hips had a mind of their own, moving to cause some kind of friction. She was needy.

Poppy grabbed at the vibrator with her free hand — she instantly turned it on and delicately placed it over her clothed pussy.

“Oh.” she moaned, her back faintly arching. Applying much needed pressure, the vibrator slid between her restricted folds, brushing against her pulsing clit. The action caused a bit of a tremor in her legs.

“Fuck” tucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she kept a steady teasing pace, every now and then she would skim over her clit. The pace she was going was torturous.

Poppy eventually laid the toy down — although she didn't turn it off, it laid there while it lowly buzzed — she discarded the last pieces of clothing off her body with all speed. She needed to see every inch of her body, she needed to see all of her awaiting chest and the purple light to glisten off her pussy in all its entirety. She needed the full visual.

She disregarded the clothes and with no hesitation dipped two of her fingers into her slick folds. Poppy wanted, no needed a taste of her essence, she tucked those fingers into her mouth and moaned at the taste, she swirled her tongue around the digits before releasing them with a pop. A little saliva dripped down her body but she rubbed the rest right back onto her pussy, creating an — if even possible — wetter mess.

It didn't take long for the vibrator to be right back into her good grasp.

Poppy drug the toy from her clit to her leaky entrance and then back to her clit, she repeated this process two more times before dipping the head in. Throwing her head back, “Shit!” she hissed. She didn't dare to push it in all the way, she lived for the build up.

The way her stomach clenched and legs seemed to have a mind of their own, toes curling and pleasurable sounds getting caught in her throat. It was an euphoric feeling.

A — what she thought — was a familiar sound coming through the walls. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore her ignorant neighbors, this wasn't the first time that they've had a problem with controlling the volumes in their abode. It didn't help that the sound that had interrupted was loud and shook the walls a bit.

“Fuckers probably dropped something heavy.” Poppy seethed but nestled into her bed, pushing the vibrator in more and more. She'd be damned if she didn't get her orgasm tonight.

“Oh fuck~” she let out when it hit a certain point, if she curved it up just a tad more she was sure she could brush up against her g-spot.

‘BOOM!’ The building shook again, faint screams were heard and to anyone in their right state of mind — they would've known that those screams were not full of anger or passion but of fear, jumbles of genuine panic.

Maybe it was the few drinks she had earlier, maybe it was the orgasmic haze she was building to that clouded her better judgment — that made her think that the world was just trying to make sure she didn't reach her most high. “Please, shut the fuck up! Please!”

Poppy screamed. Her chest heaved and skin warmed with irritation, she was pissed. The buildup was gone and anger replaced it. She was so heated that she didn't notice the eerie silence … or the thunderous footsteps that sliced through it.

When she did notice the silence though, it was too late.

The same queen size bed she resided in slid forward, the wall behind it breaking with such force that it caused the piece of furniture to move like it weighed near to nothing — debris flew all over the room and a dusty cloud disturbed her vision, she wasn't able to make out anything but knew from the bottom of her heart she wasn't alone anymore. Poppy's chest heaved with a total different type of emotion, terror.

She was scared.

Her body shook but not with pleasure, not with urgency — well not with that specific urgency but the urgency to live. She knew she wanted to get out of this situation alive, she didn't know how she was going to go about that. Especially when she laid eyes on her guest. The smoke screen dispersed.

Through the mirror that still was across from her, just closer in space, she saw something. Something so tall that it bent down slightly to fully come into the makeshift door it made. Its face was covered with a mask and it had locs on its head, adorned with gold ringlets and other tribal jewelry. Its body was covered in armor and it held a spear in its hand, not like a wooden or traditional spear.

This spear looked Mechanical, it looked as if it wasn't just a spear and even if it was, Poppy didn't want to be on the bad end of it.

You could barely make out its beady eyes from the mask but it was close enough to Poppy to where she could see the light shine off the black orbs.

.”Please don't kill me.” a cry slipped from her lips, tears coming down wetting them in the process “ please, i'll do anything, please don't kill me.” she pleaded, her eyes conveying her vulnerability. It didn't matter that she and whatever stormed into her bedroom didn't remotely share any similar DNA, and the fact it most likely didn't understand a word she was saying.

She was going to beg. She was going to appease whatever sympathetic — if it even had one — bone it had in its body.

The tears continued to flow and her mind started to wander. She thought about how quickly her life had become in danger, she thought about her friend and how she so easily brushed her off. She thought about how rudely she said goodbye, not knowing how those words would literally be the last words shared between them.

The thoughts made her cry harder — the steps it took so casually towards her, made her go into hysterics.

Poppys' back was pressed against the headboard as if it could shield her, she wouldn't dare turn around and become so close within range, cutting off the mere moments of life she had left. She gazed into the mirror and watched it come closer with no worry. Why would it worry though? It knew where the superiority lied.

It was behind her, the only thing that separated them was the splintering wood of what was left of the headboard. Poppy watched it through her tears.

She watched as it gazed down at her like she was a foreign specimen, as its left appendage came and caressed her head — not as if to soothe her but to make an observation as of what she was. This didn't console her, not one bit.

She felt its rough armored covered hand trail its way down her body, tracing over her neck and coming down her chest — it grazed her nipple causing her breath to hitch. A familiar tingle making an appearance at inappropriate timing, Poppy just blamed it on how the human body worked, this is how the body functioned.

It didn't stop its journey. Only when it made its way down to the soppy mess between Poppy’s thighs did it momentarily halt. Detouring if you will.

Poppys clit throbbed as she watched through the mirror, fear entwined with need — a treacherous combination.

The rough hand came in contact with her folds, swiping through and collecting her present arousal. The action was so fast and powerful that a jolt shot through Poppy and she couldn't help the small whimper she had let out.

Tears falling sporadically now, but the full fledged sobbing stopped. She wanted to live but if she were to die, how could she save a life that wasn't hers any longer?

She was miniscule compared to this thing, even slightly bent and playing with her essence it still cast many shadows on her, staying heads above her.

She wasn't paying attention to what it had been studying as she had been studying it. So when it slid a thick, long digit into her soaking folds it had caught her by surprise — her hands shooting up to hold its armored arm and hips jutting forward to meet the calculative thrusts it gave.

“ mhm” she moaned out and rolled her hips at the sensation, her stomach clenching for numerous reasons. Its finger moved around inside, giving her the same fullness as the toy that was inside her mere moments ago.

It curled up, hitting her g-spot, “oh fuck” she cursed, her hips starting to run away on their own but the finger was never far behind and without mere moments to spare she orgasmed all over its fingers.

Her body twitching from the fresh release and her mind not really focusing on the important things. In a way she was almost relaxed.

Till her body flew forward half a foot, she was now on her stomach and face mere inches away from the same mirror that's been the only witness to tonight's ventures. It had smoothly landed on her bed, somehow without making much noise and crouched behind her. She took notice of its strong hind legs.

Poppy's mind went to the news anchor she had silenced, she thought about the headline — Alien. She mentally scoffed, of all things an alien would become the first honest thing anyone has reported in such a long time and yet because of the same deception they casted into homes, Poppy couldn't take the news seriously. She couldn't shield her life.

The alien grasped at the sheathing that adorned its abdomen and nether region, it clicked around before the armor popped off with an almost undetectable hiss.

The covering slid off its chiseled body and Poppy could not help the strangled gasp that left her — when her eyes made contact with its outwardly cock. She didn't know why it astonished her as much, seeing as its stature was much larger than hers.

Its skin was a pale-ish yellow color, and she couldn't help to compare its structure to that of a humans, the way that the muscles were accentuated became vaguely familiar. From its chest, to its abs, the only thing she could honestly differentiate — its bulbous penis — the shape was similar but the size was scary, to say the least.

The otherworldly creature grasped at her hips and tugged her lower half towards it, its cock stood at gruesome attention — its arousal crystal clear. Poppy grasped at her bed covering, she couldn't believe that something like this was happening. How much she wanted it was the craziest part.

She had yet to say a word besides her begging fit earlier and pleasurable sounds from when it had finger fucked her — she was too embarrassed to say anything, she would rather wallow in her shame and its cum quietly. Well as quietly as she could be.

Snatching her from her pitiful thoughts — it dragged its pulsing pre cum dripping head across her wet slit, mixing both of their juices together to create the best lubricant. It let out a hum of approval, the first sound it had made tonight and dare she say, Poppy loved it. How deep and guttural it was made Poppy's stomach clench in the best way.

The alien dipped the head of its hungry cock into her awaiting opening, “oh fuck” Poppy's head lolled forward into the mattress, her mouth was agape and eyes closed as it slid its length inside her. She knew that it wouldn't be able to fit entirely and the thought saddened her, she wanted it all.

When it got in as much as it could it started to move in and out of her wetness, barely giving her time to adjust. Its movements were not humane, yet still calculative. It didn't look down at her with care but as if it were a Predator and she was its prey.

She could feel every groove, bump and vein as it plunged into her — her pussy clenching around it like a glove.

Poppy was so confident in her ability to know her body that it wreaked havoc on her that every time that it pushed into her awaiting pussy it touched her g spot, every time — but yet, she could just merely brush against it.

She couldn't even form coherent words as her second, more powerful orgasm washed over her. Her pussy tightened over its length — which made it growl louder — and creamed all over the resilient alien. It never let up, never gave her a break.

Her body lay limp as she took everything it gave to her, even when it decided to push more of its length inside her battered womb. She could feel her stomach expand everytime it pushed forward, she could only tiredly lay her hand over her stomach as it fucked her into oblivion.

“ Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! “ Each orgasm was more powerful than the last, each one did more and more of the impossible.

With a loud rumble, it grabbed her hips so tightly that she knew they were bruised and the skin most likely scratched and raw — ropes and ropes of cum were dumped into her. It's like they were shooting straight at her g spot, her legs shook fiercely and her pussy squirted — not only her juices but the cum that stained her walls gushed out as well.

Black spots painted her vision, her chest heaving at a worrisome rate.

She knew somewhere in her mind that it knew that she was spent — but this wasn't about her.

Its right arm came around her waist to hoist up her pliable body, it grabbed at her legs so that they sat on its muscular thighs — giving a much better access point.

Poppy was basically sitting on the alien's lap with its cock still stuffed inside, still hard and throbbing as if it didn't just fill her to the brim.

She just leaned back and shivered once her back made contact with some cold metal — her eyes barely able to stay open — she could just about make out their figures in the mirror, she could see the mixtures of cum dripping from where their bodies met. She could see how puffy her pussy was and how glossy its cock was as it maneuvered in and out of her.

Saliva slid out of her mouth and down her chin as the all too familiar feeling started to build back up within her. She knew this one would be the one to make her succumb to darkness and maybe even death, at least it was pleasurable.

She whimpered and whined, her legs planting on its steel thighs as she tried to run away from the feeling — she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

Poppy knew she lost, she knew when its arms circled around her — locking her in — and started pistoning inside her, it seemed as if its cock only knew to hit her g spot. She cried, tears sliding down her face as her pussy leaked and vision became blurry, breathing didn't come naturally and because of that she became lightheaded.

Sobs racked her body as she came, her hands grasping at the arms holding her. Her stomach cramping from her multiple orgasms and the appendage that has now claimed it as its own.

Not once did the Predator stop. It didn't stop when her legs slipped from their settled position. It didn't stop when her hands stopped squeezing its arms. It didn't stop when her head lolled to the right and eyes closed.

It just held her close to its conscious body and let her pussy envelope him with the warm welcome to its new home.

Dedications: @deunmiu-dessie

Banner/Divider: @cafekitsune @pwixi

[ecstarry]

"The Hunt" barty x monty x sirius

for @del-stars @moon-seas @velanavis & @star4daisy

“You pick.” Barty had been nursing the same glass for an hour. He was bored, horny, and at this point, desperate. It wasn’t even about finding someone to suck him off—he craved everything that came before that. He got off on the rush of the hunt.

Barty was a fucking town bicycle—everyone got a ride. He was a whore, but as soon as he’d burned through an entire bar’s clientele, the novelty wore off, and he’d find a new pool of people to entertain him.

Which had brought him here. A shitty bar with a hot bartender who, no matter how much Barty batted his eyelashes, wouldn’t so much as smirk.

“Why do you want me to pick? I’m not the one fucking them,” Sirius said, laughing.

Barty’s curiosity piqued. He leaned against the counter, meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I want to know who your type is.”

“Why?”

“Indulge me.”

“Fine.” Sirius put down the last glass he’d been cleaning and cracked open a beer for himself. “I like them older.”

Barty pointed at a guy who seemed to be in his mid-thirties.

“Come on, Barty.” Sirius took a sip of his drink.

“I mean actually older. Like ‘they know how to make you come quickly because they get tired after ten minutes of fucking you’ older.” Sirius’ pupils dilated as his gaze locked on someone across the bar.

A man—easily pushing fifty—emerged from the bathroom. He was tall, his button-down slightly unbuttoned to reveal a hint of collarbone and a gold necklace. Barty scanned him, taking particular interest in his hands. No wedding ring. A shame—Barty had a thing for corrupting married men.

“Okay,” Barty said with a grin.

“I don’t even know if he’s gay.”

Barty shot Sirius a mocking look.

“Fine. Of course, he’s gay,” Sirius muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the man. “But he’s not interested.”

Barty slid off his seat and walked toward the man, settling on the stool next to him.

“Buy me a drink,” Barty said, pushing his empty glass forward.

“I’m gonna need to see some ID, kid.”

Obedient as ever, Barty pulled out his ID, licked the back of the card, and pressed it to his forehead. He could feel Sirius’ heavy gaze from across the room—no doubt blushing, and under those loose jeans, probably sporting a growing bulge.

“Nice picture—” The man leaned in slightly, squinting at the card. “—Bartemius.”

“Barty,” he corrected.

“Junior,” the man added. “I’m Fleamont.”

“You know another one?”

Fleamont smirked. “Something like that.” He finished the last of his drink in one swallow. “What are you drinking, Barty?”

“Whatever the pretty boy over there wants,” Barty said, gesturing toward Sirius, who hadn’t taken his eyes off them for a second.

A glint sparked in Fleamont’s eye as he glanced at Sirius, clearly clocking how pink his cheeks had turned under the attention.

“What are we having?” Fleamont asked.

Sirius grabbed his drink and poured it down the sink. “I’m on the clock. I can’t drink.”

Fleamont smirked. “Good boy.”

As if summoned, Sirius began walking toward them. Barty was still horny and fucking desperate—but now, he wasn’t bored.

The rest of the night blurred into a haze. The last customers left, leaving just the three of them. Sirius was no longer behind the bar but sitting beside Barty.

“I think we should play spin the bottle,” Barty said. The suggestion earned a loud laugh from Fleamont and a sharp glare from Sirius.

“I know you’re probably someone’s daddy and have no idea how the game works, so let me show you.”

Barty spun the bottle. Without waiting for it to stop, he turned and yanked Sirius’ shirt, pulling their lips together. Sirius moaned into the kiss. His lips were soft, and Barty wanted to bite them, to open him up. Sirius’ hands slid to Barty’s thighs, gripping tightly. The more Barty pulled back, the closer Sirius leaned in, his mouth chasing him.

Barty tugged on Sirius’ hair, guiding his mouth to his neck. Fleamont’s dark eyes gleamed with lust as he watched. Sirius lost himself, shifting closer and closer until he was practically seated on Barty’s lap.

With one hand, Barty pulled Fleamont toward the other side of his neck. Slowly, he dropped his head back, letting their tongues, teeth, and hands explore him—and each other.

The high of the hunt was intoxicating, but sometimes, the prey tasted just as sweet.

[gogogodzilla]

day 16, toys

natasha romanoff x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, jealous!reader, use of ball gag, use of double-sided vibrator, reader has electricity powers, slight dom! natasha, takes place during Black Widow, afab reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You rested your head against the cool glass of the window as Natasha drove you to a safe house she knew. You’d just lost the only family you ever knew, and the loss still stung deeply in your chest. 

She grabbed your thigh and rubbed soothing circles on it, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” you commented, giving her a small smile. 

“Just wait until you see where we’re staying,” she grinned, and the lilt in her voice made you nervous. 

You’d stayed in some sketchy places before, and maybe you’d gone a little soft lately. But, nervousness gnawed at you regardless. 

As Natasha drove, the area surrounding you became more and more desolate. She came to a stop down a winding path. Your eyes widened as you took in the small metal trailer settled in the middle of a clearing. 

Natasha got out of her seat as you sat bewildered. 

“C’mon, hun,” she urged before shutting the driver’s side door, pistol held at her side. You joined her with a sigh, electricity arcing through your fingers as the both of you approached the trailer. 

Natasha’s footsteps were silent as she stalked toward the door. She opened it with one hand and made her way into the trailer. You followed wordlessly as she scanned the inside of the trailer. Finally, she kicked open the door to the bedroom and chuckled at the man sleeping soundly in the bed. 

You raised a brow and she put a finger to her lips. She leaned over the foot of the bed and tapped the man’s foot, a smile dancing on her lips. He jumped up, eyes flicking between the two of you. 

“You’re in my bed,” she noted, straightening. 

“I’m not even under the covers,” the man defended himself as he slowly got up. He led the two of you toward the front of the trailer. 

They talked for a few moments, and you observed as the man explained all the facilities that came with the trailer. Natasha stood at the bar and thumbed through the various IDs the man provided for both of you. You stood behind her, looking out the window in front of the sink. 

A lull fell over the two, and he leaned in, “Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Natasha answered, her voice wavering. You straightened and hovered protectively behind her. 

The man shrugged, “I hear things. Something about the Avengers getting divorced…” 

You scowled, and Natasha placed a placating hand on your thigh. Rick was someone you could trust, she’d said. He’d done her a huge favor by helping the two of you. Still, you didn’t like him poking around in your business. 

Natasha bowed her head for a moment. “It’s fine. Besides, I have all I need right here,” she said, snaking a hand around your hip. A warm feeling swelled in your chest at Natasha’s display of endearment. 

The man’s eyes flicked between the two of you. You’d never made your relationship known to the public, but you also weren’t exactly hiding your feelings for each other. 

“Well,” the man clapped his hands together, “seems like you’re all set. Don’t call me if you need anything.” 

The man headed toward the door, chucking a little at his own joke. You narrowed your eyes at his back as he walked to his own car. Natasha pulled you away from the door, shutting it and blocking your view of the man. 

“No need to get your hackles raised, baby,” she joked, grabbing your chin with one hand. 

You pursed your lips and tugged your chin out of her grasp, pouting. She pulled you to her, bringing you into a tight hug. You stood there for a few moments with your arms at your side. Finally, you relented and wrapped your arms begrudgingly around her.

She released you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. “I like it when you get jealous, babe,” she teased before heading out the door to grab your bags from the car. You rolled your eyes before following her. 

Later that night, you sat on Natasha’s bed going through her dresser drawers, curiosity and boredom pushing you forward. Your hand landed on an array of leather attached to a silicone ball neatly coiled in the back of the bottom drawer. Your fingers danced over the gag, insides alight with excitement. You lifted it out of the drawer and nearly jumped out of your skin as Natasha’s footsteps neared. 

She watched you from the doorway, a black plastic bag in one hand and a beer in the other. You raised a brow, “You use this on all the girls you bring here?”

She smirked and moved forward to grab your chin, “Only for your pretty little mouth.” She pressed the bag into your palm, took the gag from you, and set it on the dresser. The bed squeaked slightly as she sat next to you, “I figured that if we’re going to be out here for the foreseeable future, the least we could do is have a little fun.”

You were skeptical, but nonetheless opened the bag. Your hand wrapped around the smooth surface of the small cardboard box and you pulled it out. The box was white with a blue device on the front. You gave Natasha a quizzical look as you attempted to decipher the Norwegian on the back of the box. 

“It’s a vibrator, baby,” she chuckled and your cheeks flamed. Her fingertips flitted over the top of your thigh, and you weren’t sure if it was nervousness or excitement bubbling in your chest. 

The bed creaked slightly as you both shifted and before you knew it her lips were on yours. You’d thrown the box to the side, too focused on the taste of Natasha. The air around you crackled with tension, and Natasha’s hands drifted up to cup your face and bring you impossibly closer. 

You scooted back, your lips still tangled with Natasha’s as you reclined on the plush mattress. She threw a leg over your abdomen, straddling you and trapping you between her thighs. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

She gripped your chin and turned your head, allowing her to brush feverish kisses along the soft skin of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as she sucked a lovebite against your pulse point, and your hands ventured under the hem of her shirt. 

She trailed kisses up the side of your neck. A peck on your jaw, then your cheek, and finally your lips. You sit up and tug her shirt up and over her head, your lips immediately returning to hers. 

Your hands snake around her back and undo the clasp of her bra, which she eagerly slid off. Your fingers trailed up to fondle her breasts, and her hips jutted against your own. 

You pulled away panting and tapped her thigh, “Let’s get these off.” 

Her lips curved into a smile, “Look at you being bossy.” Nevertheless, she hopped off of you long enough to remove her jeans. The bed sunk under her weight as she crawled forward and helped remove the clothes that were separating her from your flushed skin.

Natasha pushed you backward and hovered over you.

“So perfect,” she murmured as her eyes raked over your naked form. She moved to touch where she could, tracing her hands over the column of your throat, down to the valley of your breasts, over your ribs, then over your hip bones. A soft whine left you as she avoided everywhere you needed her. 

She tsked and leaned over you to grab the ball gag. “As much as I love those pretty little noises you make…” she trailed off, and you opened your mouth for her. She was gentle as she clasped the buckle behind your head. Your lips wrapped around the silicone ball, and you took a deep breath through your nose. She took the vibrator out of its packaging, her eyes glued to yours. 

 Her hands skirted over the insides of your thighs as she positioned herself between them. She hooked her arms around your thighs, keeping you in place. She pressed kisses along your inner thighs, and you bucked your hips against her grasp. 

She pulled you towards her and licked a tentative stripe through your folds. Your whine reverberated against the ball gag. Her fingertips dug into your thighs as she latched onto your core. You arched your back against the mattress as her tongue expertly circled your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. 

You tangled a hand into her scarlet locks, aching for something to ground you. She kept her plush lips attached to your clit as she slid a finger through your folds, gathering your slick. 

Slowly, she sunk a finger inside of you and you gasped as much as you could against the gag. She pumped her finger a few times before swiftly adding another one. Her pace was brutal, quickly rocking her fingers against you while her tongue continued its ministrations. 

She pulled away and the whine that escaped you was almost pathetic. She placed a placating kiss on your inner thigh before grabbing the vibrator and running it through your folds. 

You bucked your hips and clenched against nothing, desperate for anything she’d give you. Drool was slipping out the sides of your mouth, and you huffed a breath through your nose. 

She turned the vibrator on and circled it around your clit, and your hips jumped against her. The vibrator quickly replaced her fingers inside you, and you felt your release rapidly building within you. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Natasha lifted her hips and lined the other end of the vibrator up with her entrance. She threw her head back and let out a soft moan as she sunk down onto the vibrator. 

She grabbed the backs of your thighs and snapped her hips against yours. You let out a breathy moan against the gag, and she reached down to knead your breasts. She trailed her fingers up to wrap lightly around your neck as she ground against you. 

Your moans were increasing in pitch and frequency, and the air seemed to crackle around you. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” she panted as her her hips stuttered against your own. You furiously nodded your head as that familiar coil tightened inside you, seconds away from snapping. 

You gripped her forearm as your orgasm ripped throughout your body. The energy within the air made your hair stand on edge, and a high-pitched whine escaped you as the ceiling light above you brightened and then blew with a loud pop. 

Natasha jolted against you but continued her movements as she followed you over the edge. Once pleasure edged into overstimulation she pulled out of you, panting. 

She turned off the vibrator as she slowly pulled it out of you. You arched your back at the loss, and she rubbed a soothing hand across your thigh. She hovered over you to undo the buckle of the gag. 

Natasha pressed a kiss against your temple and then your jaw as she set the gag to the side. “Did so good for me, baby,” she praised, trailing her fingertips up your side. 

“That was fun,” you grinned. Your gaze moved up to survey the damage you did to the light. “Got any spares?” 

Natasha laughed and shook her head, “Nope.” 

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Guess we gotta head into town.” 

“Yep.” 

[obsidianimagines]

See You Around

You meet Jack for the first time after one of his shows

Jack Mercer x f!reader

Warnings: cursing, drinking, smoking

Notes: I assumed the Spares tattoo on his arm was for his band because idk what else it could mean so let's just pretend that's it ❤️

New York City, October 31st, 2001

"Court, you told me you were taking care of the tickets."

Your friend and roommate huffed as she walked next to you, the heels of her boots clicking on the sidewalk. "Yeah, I meant I was going to buy them at the door. I didn't think they'd be sold out already."

"The Strokes are pretty big now. Their album came out a few months ago, and they've been touring all over the place." You shrugged, shifting gears to help cheer her up. She'd been so excited to go to the show. "But hey, it's Halloween in New York City. I'm sure we can find something else to do tonight."

After a block or so of walking, you noticed some people entering a bar, and the chalkboard sign out front: TONIGHT: SPARES. "Hey, look!" You pointed at the sign. "Let's check it out."

"I guess we could. I didn't dress to be outside for too long." Courtney gestured to the short, tight dress she wore, with only a thin sweater covering her arms. She looked very cute, but definitely not too suited for the late October weather. As you stopped at the door, she looked in through the window and noticed the type of crowd inside. "Is this going to be one of those shows you like with the mush pits or whatever?"

"Mosh pits. And I don't know, I've never heard of this band before. But there has to be at least one hot guy, right?" You knew exactly what to say to convince your friend, and it worked.

"Alright, let's go in. Just don't leave me, okay?"

Courtney held onto your arm as the two of you walked inside, the bouncer waving you both past after checking your IDs and taking the few dollars for your cover. It was yet another bar with a tiny stage, nothing you hadn't seen before. Maybe 100 people could fit if they really squeezed in, but there was only about half of that at the moment.

After grabbing some drinks, you and your friend settled a little closer to the back because you knew Courtney would run for the hills if people started throwing elbows anywhere near her. And you wanted to see some kind of live music that night after hyping yourself up so much.

When the band came out dressed like punk rockers, Courtney's eyes went wide, and you gave her a reassuring smile.

You stepped out of the front door of the bar after the show, your ears still ringing from the guitars and drums. Your friend had loosened up and actually started having fun, so she was at the bar chatting up one of the band members. But you just needed a little air after being in that hot, stuffy room.

Once you took a breath, you noticed the lead singer of the band—he'd introduced himself on stage as Jack—leaning against the bricks with the last remains of a cigarette between his lips. Since you were at the back of the bar, you hadn't been able to see him well, only hear his nice voice and the way he played his guitar. Now that you could make out his features, he was actually pretty cute.

"That was a great show," you said, breaking the silence.

Jack's blue eyes flicked up towards you, and he took the cigarette from his mouth to put it out on the wall and toss the butt in the trash can a few feet away. "Thanks."

You expected that he'd go back inside with the rest of his band, but he simply took out another cigarette and lit it with a zippo. Something came over you, and you also rested your back against the wall, leaving about four feet between you. "I'm surprised you're not getting a drink with your band."

"The bar had to kick me out when the show ended."

It took a moment for you to realize what he meant, and you laughed. "You're in a band and you don't have a fake ID?"

"That asshole at the door took it." He could get another one, but that would require money, which he wasn't exactly swimming in.

"Damn, that's rough. He let me and my friend in with ours."

"Well, you've got an advantage. Most bars don't care about your ID when you're a pretty college girl."

"What makes you think I'm in college?" you asked, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket and definitely not thinking about the fact that he called you pretty.

He shrugged. "Just a guess."

"It was a good one. I'm an art student. You?"

It was Jack's turn to laugh. "Hell no. School's not my thing." College usually required a lot of money or very good grades, and he'd never had either of those things. Even if he had, the idea of sitting in classrooms all day again was fucking torture to him.

The front door to the bar opened as someone exited, and you heard Courtney's distinct laugh among the music and chatter. You looked in the window and noticed that she hadn't moved from her barstool. "My friend's still flirting with your drummer."

"Shit, I bet he's loving that." Jack chuckled as he joined you in peering through the glass, finding his bandmate, Ben, and a cute blonde at the bar. Despite a local following, the band wasn't anywhere near the level of fame that had girls throwing themselves at them, so Ben would probably be bragging about this for at least a week.

"I'm just glad she's having a good time after what happened earlier." You glanced over at him and realized he didn't know what had brought you there in the first place. "We were supposed to see The Strokes tonight, but it didn't work out. Your show was the first one we found."

Jack ashed his cigarette and took another drag. "Probably a bit of a shock, huh?" He'd seen The Strokes before, and the crowds weren't quite as rowdy as the small ones at his shows.

"For her, yeah. But I've been listening to punk and metal my whole life. If I were here on my own, I would've been right there in the pit."

"Really?" He'd only met you a few minutes ago, but you didn't seem like the type.

"Really."

His eyes lingered on you a moment before they turned back to the window. "We're playing another show here Friday night. You should come."

"I'll think about it."

You didn't even notice that Courtney had left the bar until she walked out of the front door.

"We've got class in the morning, we gotta go!" She grabbed your arm, tipsy and giggling. "I gave the drummer my number. You were so right about finding hot guys here!"

Your cheeks burned at her words as Jack smirked.

Courtney started pulling you down the sidewalk, searching for an empty cab to hail, and you turned back towards him to give a little wave with your free hand. "See you around, Jack."

Only once you were gone did Jack realize that he hadn't even gotten your name...

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x period!reader

title: im a baby you're holding

warnings: descriptions of blood, nudity (not sexual), pain, fluff that will make your heart ache!

a/n: sorry not sorry, this is cute and I know I should've done a period comfort sooner. posted this at three am btw. as always sorry for typos, this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. enjoy babes.

-

It as rainy out, I could tell by the small window up by the ceiling of the basement, it was grey outside, the sky and the clouds gave me a feeling of home along with the smell of dirt. I was huddled against a corner of the basement, my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them, I was bleeding... Yes it is as it may seem. I moved to the cold uncomfy ground because God knows how Albert would respond if I had bled on the mattress.

Though the mattress is already quite dirty, I didn't want it to be blood. He could think so many things and one of them would be my self harm, he didn't believe me when I said I wanted to stay with him, at least not yet, and time again he'd show me how much he trusted me and id show how much I trusted him. But today was different, I was waiting for dinner, for him to unlock that door and see the bloody mess on the blood.

Would he get mad? Hed punish me by leaving me alone in the dark in which he knew I feared, but only time will tell how he'd react and I waited, my heart calm pounding in my chest. But then I heard that door unlock it fluttered like a moth, it wanted out. I flinched but kept my head down. He entered, he set the tray down on the hard floor and squatted down to my level, he was close I could hear his breathing through the mask.

He pet my hair, he hummed softly. "Hmh, bunny?"

I looked up my eyes teary and glossy as I did, his eye grew soft in his mask and looked down to the blood below us, I immediately felt the tension and guilt. He titled his head at this but didn't say anything about it. But he spoke once again.

"You've earned so much trust from me, I don't want you to be scared over something that is bound to happen." I couldn't help it, I started crying even more. He sighed and pulled me close. "Shh, I gotcha." He put my head on his chest, he rocked side to side gently.

"I suppose you'd want to get cleaned up?" I nodded a little, his voice became lighter like he was happy and almost amused. "Yeah?" I knew he was smiling under the mask.

He helped me up to my feet, it was clear I was sitting in the same spot for a while, my nightgown was soaked in blood. He walked to he basement door and opened it, he looked back at me. "Come on... I promise it's alright." 

I walked towards him and as we walked up the steps he kept his hands over my eyes, making sure I didn't trip over a step and made sure I walked to the bathroom without looking, I understood why he didn't want me to. There was a flick of a light switch and a closing of a door. He uncovered my eyes. I was in a bathroom, the toilet next to the sink and in front of the sink was the bath, he turned on the water. 

He put the plug in the drain, "I'll have to stay here with you while you bathe. I can't have you trying anything can I?" He patted my head.

I titled my head a little, he laughed at this. "Don't worry Bunny, I won't do anything you won't like. What's important is we get you clean." 

The water went, I was feeling a little shy, he sighed at this and spoke once again. "I'll be back. You get undressed and in the water."

He left the bathroom, I did what I was told. I got undressed and slipped into the hot water it made my body relax and I settled but I kept my knees pressed against my chest. He came back in with a new nightgown. "I suppose I can say I was prepared for this." 

He also had some new underwear for me... And a pad. I felt loved, so loved. He crouched down from the outside of the bath and grabbed a bar of soap. "Now, I can't do this unless you tell me it's alright." His voice was stern like he meant it.

"It's okay..." I said. He looked at me to double check it was really okay before he started to rub my back with the bar of soap, and brought it to the front of my chest on my collarbone. I slowly put my knees down. 

It's not like I felt uncomfortable but I was in a vulnerable state. He didn't want to make me uncomfortable nor did he have any intentions of it. He just made sure I got clean before getting my hair wet and he was trying to be very gentle, he's never done this before and it showed. I giggled a little and I saw his eyes look at me through his mask. 

He didn't say anything but I knew he smiled a little as he continued to wash my hair. He rinsed me and that's when he started speaking again. "Feel good?" His voice was light. 

I nod a little and once he got me rinces he stood up, putting his hands on his knees and he grabbed a towel... His towel from the wrack and held it open. "Let's get you dry." 

I stood up slowly, it was clear I was in some pain, he dried me gently and he me some privacy to get dressed and situated. Once I was done he sighed. "I understand... Cramps may be a problem."

I didn't say anything but he knew it was a very likely possibility and didn't need my word to take action. He held out his hand for me to take. Almost like you would a child, and I took it. He led me back to the basement and got me back on the mattress. 

He sighed, "I'll get you something for the pain." He whispered like he didn't want me to hear but at the same time he did.

When he came back he had a hot water bottle, he sat next to me again. "lay down." His voice is soft once again, I do so. He gently placed it on my lower tummy and rubbed the side of my hip. 

He didn't want to leave me alone, he felt so sad I had to stay down here in the dark, in pain. He knew periods weren't fun and he just had a spot in his heart to want to stay, so he did. He lied next to me but he didn't touch me, not wanting me to be uncomfortable but I didn't want him to think it would so I scooted closer to him.

I knew he was smiling a bit under his mask. He put his hand on my forehead and stroked me gently till I was able to relax from the pain and go to sleep.

And through the night he made sure that hot water bottle stayed warm, even if it meant him having to get up the stairs and all the way back down. 

He kissed my forehead and slept next to me, he was a light sleeper and when he heard me start to whine from the pain he immediately woke. "Oh. Shh, shh, shh." He cooed.

He stroked my cheek, he whispers gently. "Breathe, focus on my voice."

I sniffled, I was subconsciously holding onto his sleeve but he didn't mind. He smiled at how much he was able to help and he kissed and rested his lips on my forehead for about five seconds before rubbing my tummy gently. Making sure I fell asleep once again.

[amnestria-the-elf]

BG3 Companions at Halloween

Wyll volunteers at the city-wide Halloween festival, performing pantomimes of various exploits of The Blade of Frontiers. He patiently gets pictures with every single kid who wants one and goes out of his way to compliment the kids who dress up as him. He has been stocking up on full-sized candy bars since May and makes sure that every kid who visits him gets one.

Karlach loves trick-or-treating. She’s spent the past three months helping the kids from the Grove get their costumes together– even Mol, with a little cajoling– and she’ll be taking them around all night. She won’t let them stop until their bags are full, and then she’ll pull out new bags and make them keep going while she carries all the full ones.

Gale puts a couple of uncarved pumpkins on his porch and stays home to answer the door to all the trick-or-treaters in his neighborhood. When the candy runs out, he turns off the lights and settles down with Tara to watch old black-and-white monster movies on TV and has a good laugh with her about how completely inaccurate they are.

Lae’zel wants nothing to do with this istik holiday until Shadowheart explains to her that it’s a holiday devoted to scaring people (Wyll clarifies that she is not allowed to touch anyone while scaring them). She then spends a lot of time coming up with the most horrifying costume imaginable and hides in the bushes outside Gale’s house to scare the children as they’re leaving. 

Astarion throws an ostentatious, adults-only masquerade. There are hors d'oeuvres, fancy desserts, and fine wine. The only candy available is hand-made by a French chocolatier and candy corn is explicitly forbidden. He has carefully curated a rumor among the children in his neighborhood that he’s a vampire who eats kids, so nobody ever tries to trick-or-treat at his house.

Shadowheart leaves candy on her porch in one of those bowls with the animatronic hands that grab you when you try to take candy from it. She goes to Astarion’s party in an elaborate gown and beautiful mask, and wins the costume contest by a landslide. Hers is the most-sought after hand on the dance floor. 

Halsin goes trick-or-treating with Karlach’s group in his bear form. Every single house makes a comment about how incredibly realistic that bear suit is. One by one the kids climb up for a ride as they get tired, and eventually he has to tell Karlach that twelve pounds of candy is enough and they need to go home.

Jaheira works security at the city-wide Halloween festival. Eventually Wyll makes her join him onstage for a pantomime about the time that The Blade of Frontiers and The High Harper teamed up and it’s the most popular performance of the day. It’s hard to miss the proud smile on her face when kids who dressed up as her crowd around for a picture.

Minthara runs the most notorious haunted house in the city. You know, the one where you have to show ID to prove you’re over eighteen and sign a waiver affirming you don’t have some kind of heart problem before they let you in. The actors inside are allowed to touch you, and rumor has it that somebody went inside and was so traumatized that they didn’t speak for a week afterwards.

Minsc feels conflicted about the holiday, because on the one hand, he greatly dislikes those who are tricksome with the truth, but on the other hand, he loves to see kids dress up as someone who spends their time in the smiting of evil. Boo tells him it is ok to be tricksome with the truth as long as it is in the service of getting treats, and so he goes around yelling “Tricksome or Treating!” and laughing his arse off all night long.

[hayakawalove]

A Little Pain Never Hurt Nobody

Summary: Life was dull lately. You needed something to jump start you. You figure you may as well check out the local sex club, cause why not? You meet "professional" dom Suguru and he shows you a whole new world of pain and pleasure. You're in for a ride.

A/N: This is. Um. Yeah.

I purposefully didn't make it too extreme as this is your first time engaging in anything like this. I hope you enjoy.

P.S I've never been to a sex club so excuse me if this is completely wrong

CW: Smut, Masochism, Sadism, Impact Play, Flogging, Dacryphilia, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Spanking, Slapping, Face Slapping, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Sex Club, Top Getou Suguru, Alcohol, Choking, Dominance, Submission, Humiliation, Degradation, Biting, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Creampie, Praise Kink, Pain, AFAB Reader, Female Reader

W/C: 7,232

Credit to @benkeibear for the divider

Why were you doing this again? To be honest, you didn’t really know the answer yourself. Everything had just been so boring lately. You needed something to spice up your life. That’s what you told yourself at least, when you were standing in front of the club with blacked out windows. 

It was a sex club specifically. It had always piqued your interest, but you were never crazy enough to actually check it out. 

Not until now, apparently. 

You wrap your trembling hand around the door handle, pulling it open to feel a blast of warm air. At least it was better than staying outside in the freezing temperature. 

I’ll just check it out, I won’t stay for long. You told yourself.

When you entered you were greeted by a woman standing at a desk. She wore a bright white smile and a black choker. 

“Welcome! ID please.” 

“Oh, right.”

You fish in your purse to grab your ID to show to her. Were kids really dumb enough to try to sneak into this place? Scratch that, you remember being young and stupid. 

“Have a good time!” She bids you, passing your ID back. 

You give a nervous smile before walking further in, a blast of stimulation coming at you from all angles. 

The lights were dim, but you noticed colorful shapes being projected around the room, dancing. In tandem with the lights, there were women and men on platforms moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music. And the music, it wasn’t as loud as a normal club, but it still just added to everything. It was almost too much. 

You walk in, the exciting energy drawing you in further. People were in various stages of undress, but no one seemed bothered by the nudity. 

A man passes you, his neck collared and leashed as he follows a woman in high heels. He smiles at you before the girl tugs the leash, pulling him further. 

Okay, that’s new. 

You hear a shrill sound, a woman screaming. 

Your head whips to the direction of the noise, fear briefly settling in your veins before you remember where you are. 

The sight that greets you confuses you. 

A woman was strapped to a metallic x, her body completely nude baring her ass for the small crowd to see. Her bottom was tinged bright red. If you looked close enough, you thought you could see her skin begin to split open. 

A man stood behind her, a crop held tightly in his hand. His eyes flicked to her face before back down, slamming the crop against her again. 

She let out a wail causing you to jump. It looked like it hurt so bad. 

And that excited you. 

The man runs the crop over her skin, her sobs echoing as he teased her tender flesh. Long black hair cascaded down his back, thin eyes scrutinizing her. 

Just as you were admiring his beauty, you noticed his gaze settle on you. You wanted to look away, but you just couldn’t. Not when his demanding authority had captured you. 

The moment was over as soon as it started, and his attention was back to the woman. You force yourself to look away and head to the bar, suddenly feeling light headed. 

You stand next to the shiny counter and the bartender struts up to you. 

“What can I get you?”

“Just water.” You croak out, your throat feeling dry. 

He turns around and passes you a bottle of water, free of charge, before attending to a different customer. 

The cool liquid slides down your throat while you watch the scenes before you. The performance was seemingly over as the masses of people surrounding it had dispersed. Your gaze flickers across the dancers in front of you. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” 

“Yes they,” you start, turning towards the source of the voice. 

The man from earlier stood next to you, eyes on the dancers. 

“Are.” You finish. 

He was even more stunning up close. His hair was like satin, flowing down his back. Dark golden eyes, and he was tall. 

He turns his head to you and smiles, seeing the way you admire him. 

“You’re new here.” He strikes up a conversation. 

You shuffle in place, looking down at your water bottle and back up. 

“That obvious, huh?” 

He gifts you a serene smile. 

“I’ve never seen your face before, and you weren’t as calloused to the play scene.” 

You fumble with the bottle, the sound of it crinkling filling the space. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, everyone needs to start somewhere.” He comforts you. 

One look at how genuine he seemed soothed your nerves. Earlier he exuded power, quiet dominance leaking from his pores. But now he seemed like a regular guy. 

“I suppose you’re right.” You finish the water bottle and set it beside you. 

“So what brings you here?” 

“I was bored.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle at your response, his eyes closing. 

“You were bored so you decided to go to a sex club for the first time?” 

Heat floods through your cheeks, you were unsure if he was teasing you or not. 

“I mean I’ve always been interested, just never got around to it.” 

Another scene was unfolding, drawing most of the people away from you as they gathered to observe it. You almost thought you were going to have more breathing room that way, but somehow it was even more stifling. All of this man’s attention was on you, and there was no one around you to dull it out. 

“What do you think so far?” 

You played with your opinions in your head. It was strange, but you liked it. Everyone seemed happy here, and there were no aspects of a normal club that weighed it down. 

“I like it. It’s a bit more than I expected, but it’s exciting.” 

He seems satisfied with your answer. He flags down the bartender and orders a whiskey, before turning his attention back to you. 

“And what did you think of the scene?” 

The question jolts you. The air around it felt different than his first question. It almost felt like he was asking you to rate him. 

“I-it was good. I liked it a lot actually.” 

The air shifted around you, you were beginning to feel that commanding presence of his again. 

“I’m glad.” 

His voice runs a shiver up your spine and you have to will yourself to contain it. 

His drink arrives and you watch as he brings his mouth to the rim, a small sip of brown liquid kissing his lips. 

“Why did you start coming here?” You can’t help but ask. 

The man turns to you with a smile. 

“I like making people happy, and it’s something I enjoy.” 

You press him further and he reveals more. 

“People feel much more open here, like they don’t have to hide their true selves. It’s refreshing. I like seeing people’s genuine smiles.”

The answer simmers in your brain. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. What a kind man. It was almost unbelievable he was the same one hitting the woman earlier. 

“I’ve actually always wanted to do something like that.”

He sets his glass down and cocks a brow at you. 

“From your scene, I mean.” 

He turns his full attention to you. You piqued his interest. 

“Why haven’t you?”

“I just didn’t know where to start. It’s kind of a bit scary.” 

He seems to be contemplating something, eyes looking up. You watch as his finger taps the glass. 

“I could always help, if you’re still interested.” He offers, swirling the amber liquid before tossing his head back, taking another swig. 

It feels like gravel is in your throat now, settled somewhere between your voice box and tongue. The mushy pink muscle refuses to cooperate inside your mouth. 

“It doesn’t have to be me of course. I can always see if someone else here would help if you would prefer that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“N-no! I mean yes! That would be great, trying it with you, I mean.” You rush out, an overwhelming amount of heat rushing to your cheeks. 

You think you see something akin to a smirk spark over his features before he nurses the reaction back down to something more neutral. 

“Great.” 

“So, are you like a professional or something?” You fiddle with your hair. 

“More or less.” 

He stands up and leans over the bar, rummaging around until he finds what he’s looking for. Orange post it notes and a pen. 

You study his face while he looks down, scribbling his number onto the paper. His penmanship is surprisingly neat, something you weren’t used to seeing from men. Then again, something told you he wasn’t like most men. 

“Here, text me if you decide you’re still interested. We can set something up and discuss hard and soft limits, and also share our results as we both should get tested first.” 

You grip the paper once he hands it to you, eyes dancing across the conglomerate of numbers. 

“You don’t have like, a business card or something?” 

He lets out a chuckle, leaning against his chin as he watches you. 

“I’m not that professional. I have a full time job and a life outside of this, it’s just something I do for fun. Although, I do have lots of experience, probably more than anyone else here.” 

You clear your throat and look back down at the note. At the top, he wrote his name. 

“Suguru.” You taste the sound of his name, letting the syllables fall from your lips. 

“That would be me.” He says with a smile. “What would your name be?” 

You tell him your name and try to not run away when you hear him repeat it back to you. Your name had never sounded so good before, you were sure of it. 

“Alright, well if you decide you want to go forward just text me. We’ll get something figured out.” He drinks the rest of his whiskey, sliding a couple of dollar bills down before standing up. 

You wave goodbye, your skin buzzing off the high from talking to him. He was such a good looking guy, and he seemed so kind. Was this real? Was he really going to help you experience something new? 

There was only one way to find out. 

~~~

You and Suguru had been texting for several days ironing everything out. He asked you what you were interested in trying, and it took you longer than you were willing to admit to come up with a list. 

It was partly because you had no idea what you wanted to try. How could you pick? The other part of it was that it felt embarrassing sending him the list. Sure you met him at a sex club, and he offered to help, but it almost felt too vulnerable. You hadn’t even shared these fantasies with some of your boyfriends. Maybe that was why you agreed to let him help you. There was no personal connection, no fear of rejection. 

After many hours, you were able to create a list. 

Impact play

Choking

Hair pulling

Biting

Sensory play

It wasn’t the most extreme list. You were quite sure he had seen and done much worse, but you were still sort of scared. He complimented it once you sent it, and let you know to start thinking of safe words. You had heard of the idea before, so you knew you would have to pick them. 

Along with the list, he also told you to get tested for any STDs, not that he didn't trust you he told you, but it was more procedure. He told you he was going to get checked as well. 

The day came where you were to meet Suguru once more at the atmospheric spot. He told you to bring a change of comfy clothes, drink lots of water, and come on a full stomach. Having instructions to follow before sex felt weird in a way. It almost felt as though the scene had started before you arrived. 

You checked yourself out one last time in the mirror in your bedroom. You wore a short black dress, complimenting all of your favorite parts of your body. Telling yourself you wore it only for you, but you secretly hoped Suguru would be pleased when he saw it. 

You didn't know whether or not to be let down when his eyes didn’t linger over your body when you arrived. You found him talking with a couple of people, ones you recognized. It was the man on a leash and his owner. The man stood patiently behind her while she spoke with Suguru, a friendly demeanor between the two. 

When he saw you, his eyes glanced down at your outfit then back up, excusing himself from the conversation. He rested his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards a long row of doors. 

“Are we not doing it out in the main area?” You ask. 

He glances at you with a smile before opening a door, a big room inside. 

“No, it’s your first time. I wouldn’t make you do that. Unless, of course, you want to do it in front of everyone.” The lilt in his voice makes your hair stand on edge. 

“N-no. Here is much better.” 

He closes the door behind you, walking over to a chair. On it lies a piece of paper. He lifts it up and brings it over to you. It was his test results, all clean. You dig into your purse to bring your results out too and hand them over to him. 

“Good. Are you on birth control?” He asks, eyes looking over the sheet. 

You straighten up and open your mouth, nerves beginning to settle over you. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” Suguru sets the paper aside. “Oh actually, I wanted to talk about something on your list. We won’t be able to do the typical choking you’re probably thinking of. Too much risk involved so it’s not allowed in clubs like this. I’m sorry.” 

You feel disappointment in your chest but you nod in agreement. 

“That makes sense, okay.” 

“Have you put any thought into the safe word? Most people use red, yellow, and green. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for all good.” He suggests. 

“I’ll do those then, if that’s alright.” You fidget with your fingers, digging into the side of your dress. 

He smiles at you before looking down at the bag you brought. 

“Oh! These are the change of clothes you asked me to bring. I also had lots of water and just ate.” 

“Good girl.” He purrs, the sound of it instantly turning your face hot. 

Suguru peers at you and smiles to himself once he notices your reaction. 

“Oh, you’re gonna be fun.” He says, more to himself than you. 

You dart your eyes away, finding it hard to look at him. So instead, you study the room you’re in. There was a floor length mirror, a large bed, and various sex tools on the wall. The room itself looked comfortable, if not for the daunting things that were meant to cause pain. 

“So how do we um, you know, start this I guess? I’ve never done it before-“ you find yourself rambling. 

Suguru closes the distance between the two of you, making you gasp out. His finger slides under your chin tilting your head up. 

“Just relax, let me take care of it princess.” 

His lips are on yours. They felt plush, molding to yours while his tongue slots in your mouth. You grasp his shirt for support. All oxygen had exited your body the second you felt him press up against you. 

It’s not that you were against the idea, it was far from it actually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. 

Suguru’s large hand spans across your cheek, long fingers pressed into your skin. He walks you backwards until you hit a wall, and it takes everything in you to continue standing on your own. His tongue grazes against yours, drawing out a soft moan from you. 

“How cute.” Suguru pulls away to speak, instead choosing to place kisses down your neck. 

“A-ah!” You dig your fingers into his shoulder, feeling his teeth graze against your sensitive flesh. 

He doesn’t bite down like you expected. Instead, he decides to continue sliding his tongue down your neck, occasionally bumping his teeth against your throat. It was as if he was reminding you that he could bite, but he wasn’t going to, not yet at least. 

One thing you should know about Suguru is that he enjoyed playing with his food first. 

Suguru pulls back and looks down at you. Your eyes were glazed over, a mix of both your salivas coating your lips. 

“Wore this for me, huh?” He asks, fingers trailing down your dress. 

The way he stood over you commanded dominance. You had never experienced such a thing before. But in that moment you knew you would do anything he asked. 

“Yes.” Your voice trembles. 

Suguru hums while he further analyzes you. He didn’t know where to start. You gave him a good list, but he also didn’t want to scare you or hurt you, at least not in a bad way. 

“You’re so kind to wear this baby, but I’m gonna need you to take it off now.” His voice commands. 

You pull off the dress, tossing it to the floor before looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles darkly, reaching a thumb up to drag over your lip. He swipes the saliva away, letting his finger slide down your chin, down your chest until he reaches your stomach. There was a predatory glint in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl. He grips your waist hard, turning you around. 

“Turn around.” You follow what he says and face the wall. 

Suguru stands back and admires your form as you follow his directions. He looks at your underwear, a lacy thong, before looking back up. Your body trembles beneath his gaze, the weight of those feline eyes searing into your back. 

He steps back to grab a tool, one of many in his arsenal. It was a flogger, the handle of it fitting comfortably in his palm as he steps back closer to you. 

“This is called a flogger. People use it as a whip. I’m going to strike you a couple times, and I want you to tell me how it feels.” 

“O-okay.” 

He desperately wants to correct you on your manners, the urge tickling the back of his throat. He much would have preferred a “yes sir”. But this is your first time, so he refrains. If you visit again though, he won’t be so lenient. 

Suguru raises his hand, brandishing the flogger, before bringing it back down against your ass. The feeling jolts you, your body jumping up in response. It didn’t hurt per se, but you could definitely feel it. He must’ve been holding back, and that fact irked you a bit. 

“How was that?” His voice remains steady. 

“It was okay.” If only you could keep your voice as steady as his. 

He hums in response before bringing the whip back down on your other cheek. This time was much harder, sending a shock of pain across your skin. The pain traveled straight to your pussy where you feel yourself clench around nothing, the act somehow more painful than the whip. 

“Better?” He asks, flicking his eyes up to look at your head. 

Your head was turned sideways, your lip caught between your teeth. You wanted to try things like this, always intrigued by the idea of pain during sex. But you had no idea it would feel this good. 

“Better, feels good.” You admit, inhibition slowly falling. 

Suguru strikes you again, this time even harder than the last. Heat spreads across your ass, the action making you moan out. Pure ecstasy. Your arms tremble as you keep yourself against the wall. 

Your eyes dart to the side to catch a glimpse as best as you can of the man. He looks nothing short of a god behind you, tall and unwavering. His raven locks flow down his shoulders, keen eyes focused on your figure. 

Suguru sets the flogger down before pulling a hairband out, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gathers it all into a bun. Can’t have any hair getting in the way of his vision, after all. 

He picks the flogger back up and drags it across your backside, sending goosebumps across your skin. 

“Keep your face forward.” There was that commanding voice again. 

You snap your head forward once more, eyes boring into the wall in front of you. Anticipation settles in your veins, heart racing at the idea of him hitting you again. 

“I'm going to keep going, and I want you to count after every single one.” 

“What happens if I lose count?”

“Don’t.”

He strikes you once more, a sob racking your body. A temporary moment of bliss settles over your bones before you remember what he told you to do. 

“One.” 

“That’s a good girl.”

Again. Again. Again. 

Each strike was more painful than the last. Every time he made contact with your skin, you jumped forward and groaned out. 

He continues bringing the flogger down on your ass, each time making you cry out. Your voice shaky each time you counted. Tears were blearing your eyes from the pain, from the pleasure. You find it hard to stay standing up, the room spinning around you and your knees almost buckling underneath you. 

Suguru keeps his eyes trained on your ass, noticing the beginnings of marks start to form. It pleased him greatly to see your skin react, the mere sight causing his slacks to tighten. 

“F-f-f-fifty!” You sob. 

Suguru sets the flogger down and spins you around, almost groaning from the sight of your tear stricken face. 

“Did so good princess. What’s your color?” He asks, dragging his hands up your shoulders, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

It was almost hard to believe those hands were the same ones causing you so much pain. 

“Green, green.” You look up desperately at him, needing to know what else he had in store for you. 

He brings a hand up, the back of his forefinger swiping beneath your lash line under both sides. He watches the way your tears coat his skin, and it takes everything in him not to bring his finger up to his mouth to lick off the salty remenents of the calamity he caused. 

“Good.” He says. 

He didn’t even break a sweat, meanwhile your chest was heaving like you ran a marathon. A part of you was desperate to see him at his worst, see what he looked like when he really went all in. 

“Get on your knees.” His voice was soft but demanding. 

You sink to your knees and look up, waiting for more instructions. He smoothed a hand over your head before bringing you closer. 

“You know what to do from here. Unless, that pretty brain of yours is already too far gone.” 

You look down at the hard bulge in front of you. His pants were hardly doing anything, you could see the outline of it all. Your hands reach up and fumble before finally successfully dragging his pants and underwear down, his cock jumping out. 

You feel drool pile up behind your lips, your tongue feeling too heavy in your mouth. You had been with guys before, but you were sure no one compared to him. 

His angry tip stands at attention while you bring your lips down, popping his cock in your mouth. It felt somehow larger in your mouth than it looked, and it didn’t look small. It fills you to the brim, your cunt throbbing as his heavy cock rests against your tongue. Suguru hisses at the feeling of your wet mouth engulfing him. He was sensitive and needy. Hearing your cries got him more riled up than he had led on. 

Your tongue slides around his cock while you take more into your mouth. His cock slides down your throat, oxygen slowly depleting from your lungs. Suguru keeps his hands to his sides, merely observing you. It felt like you were putting on a show for him. 

Spit begins to flow freely from your lips, dripping from the corners of your mouth while you move your head back and forth along his cock. There was a fire underneath you, the raw flesh of your ass clawing at you. 

You couldn’t focus on that though, there was only him. 

“Oh right, you said you wanted to try choking right?” He begins. 

You look up at him, your eyes starting to water again. 

“Take all of it in and hold it.” He demands. “You can manage that, can’t you pretty baby?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut while you slide down further, his pubic bone meeting your nose. You couldn’t breathe at all, your body quickly setting off alarms to get you to back off. But he gave you an order, and you intended on listening to it. 

You couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe. But, you didn’t want to. The feeling of lightheadedness made your clit throb. Knowing that his cock was in control of whether or not you deserved oxygen. 

Suguru chuckles softly and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He could feel the way your throat clenched around him, feel your lips adjust around him. 

After what felt like an eternity he finally looked back down at you. Something akin to pride laces his features. 

“Release.” With that, you tear your head away, gasping as air fills you once more. 

Long strings of saliva connects you to his cock, lewd in a way that almost made you flustered. 

“Continue.” 

You slide his cock back into your mouth once you feel able. You’re more faster the second time around, your throat having already been melded into the shape of his cock. His brows furrow while he watches you, groans escaping his mouth. 

You decide you could do this forever. Nothing else mattered when you were pleasing him, you would continue to do so if he let you. 

However, he had other plans. 

“That’s it.” He says, pulling his cock from you. 

You go to wipe the tears and spit from your face but he grabs your wrist before you’re able. 

“Leave it.” 

Suguru helps you to your feet, the action once more astoundingly sweet. It was making your head rush being surrounded by the two versions of him. 

He grabs your arms and brings them up, placing them on his shoulders. He looks into your eyes as he gets on his knee, his hands ghosting over your waist. 

“I’m going to take these off now.” He says, giving you room to stop him. 

But you don’t. 

You watch as he looks down, his face right in front of your pussy. He hooks his hands on the band of your underwear, sliding them off your legs. You lift one leg up at a time, suddenly grateful you have something to hold onto. 

Suguru drops your underwear to the side and runs his hands up your thighs. He places a kiss on your tummy before standing to his full height again, his hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. 

There was nothing to feel ashamed about. He had already seen you go through more than anyone else had, so why did you have to fight yourself to remain neutral as he took your body in? 

His features look serene as his gaze drags across your body, no detail going unmissed. 

“Stunning.” He looks back up at you, capturing your attention. 

Your throat feels dry as you scramble for a response. 

“Thank you.” 

“Did you know you’re dripping, princess?” 

Your thighs clench together and you feel the slick coating your inner thighs. You grimace and nod. 

“Is this from getting whipped or from sucking my cock?”

“Both.” 

Suguru hums in satisfaction, looking back down between your legs. 

“Want some help with that?” 

Your heart lurches in response but you timidly nod, following him as he leads you to the bed. It’s much softer than it looks, the comforter giving your ass some reprieve as you lay down on the side of the bed. Suguru spreads your legs, watching as the low light catches on the glint of your leaky core. 

He bends down, placing gentle kisses down your chest as he goes. Suguru looks up and notices how your nipples begin to harden as his administrations. So damn sensitive. How adorable. 

He travels down until he’s placing kisses closer to your pussy. The feeling was teasing in nature, but you didn’t want to rush him. Clearly he knew what he was doing. You might as well enjoy the ride. 

Suguru places a kiss on either side of your pussy before pulling away, pupils focusing in on your unmarred thighs. 

Oh, no that won’t do. 

He gets in closer bringing his mouth to your skin. Your body reacts before you can even register what’s happening. Your legs try to clamp shut but his strong hands are holding them open. Looking down you notice that Suguru had bit into your inner thigh, his dark eyes staring right back at yours. 

The sensation was unlike anything you had felt before. His teeth dig into your flesh, your mouth hanging open as you watch him. Suguru sucks lightly, his tongue darting out over the bite mark before pulling away. The sting of it spreads throughout you, but pure pleasure does as well. Who knew pain from so many different things could feel this good? 

Suguru closes his eyes before bringing his mouth to the other side, teeth digging into your other leg. You moan out, fighting to keep your legs open for him. There was dynamite going off underneath your skin, you were positive of that. 

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulls away from your leg and draws himself in closer towards your throbbing pussy. He holds back a coo when he notices your hole clench. 

He darts his tongue out, flicking it against your clit to test you. And just as he expected, you let out a desperate moan. Your reactions were driving him crazy, each noise causing his mind to reel. 

Suguru dives in completely, his lips encasing your clit. You wanted to cry from the pleasure, his tongue working magic against your sensitive clit. He drags one hand away from your thigh to bring up to your pussy, feeling as though it deserves to be filled. 

A finger works its way inside you, immediately hooking against your gspot. You laugh incredulously before tossing your head back, reveling in the pleasure he was indulging you in. 

It was almost criminal how good he was. 

His tongue dances across your clit while he slides a second finger in, both of them slowly working your gspot. You had never been brought to cumming so fast before, you would be ashamed if only it didn’t feel so good. 

Your moans bounce off the walls of the room, the sound filling Suguru’s ears. You keep your eyes clamped shut in fear of what you might do if you saw the sight in front of you. 

Suguru knows before you do, your pussy tightening around his fingers. He fucks you harder with them, sucking your clit as you cum. It feels like an out of body experience as he fucks you through it, bringing you down until your groans die out and the sound of your heavy breathing fills your ears. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, swiping them against his tongue. Sure, he had many clients before now, but none of them were as sweet as you. It almost felt wrong to call you a client, this experience felt different compared to previous ones. 

You peel your eyes open and watch as Suguru brings himself on the bed, his face hovering over yours. 

“You’re cute when you cum,” he starts. “Cute when you cry too.” 

You force your head to turn, staring away from him. The compliment simmers in your gut while you feel the body heat between you grow. 

“Yeah, okay.” You murmur, self conscious. 

“I’m serious.” He brings a finger under your chin to guide your gaze back to him. 

As much as you want to disagree, you can see the truth his eyes hold. He was so damn kind. Many people would disagree with you. They would say no one who was a good person would enjoy hurting other people. But you knew the truth. Suguru was a kind man. 

“You ready?” He asks. 

Excitement bubbles up and you part your lips, telling him you are. 

He presses his lips down on yours, wanting to share a tender moment before he fucks the life out of you. He locks his fingers into yours on either side of your head, before pulling away. 

“Hands and knees.” His rough persona is back. 

You crawl up on the bed, facing away from him. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him, your beaten ass on display as your cum drips down your legs. A new world wonder, if he was being honest with himself. 

Suguru slides his shirt off, throwing it off to the side by your dress. Heat flickers beneath his skin as he watches you. He smooths a hand over your back as he grips his cock and rubs it between your sticky folds. The anticipation was killing you, knees practically shaking from the suspense. 

Suguru slides into you, your walls struggling to accommodate him. Your mouth hangs open as he nudges into you. Nothing had ever felt so good, the pressure of his cock filling you to the brim. 

“God damn it, princess.” You think you hear him say. 

He sets a steady pace, wanting to slowly build up before getting back into the roughness of it all. His hips push into you a couple of times before he picks up speed. You moan out each time his cock plunges into you. You would have gotten lost in it if he didn’t snap you out. 

Suguru threads his finger in your hair, getting a firm grip before he pulls it back. He holds it in a tight grasp, pain searing throughout your head. 

Each part of you throbbed. Your ass, your thighs, your head. But somehow you craved more. Craved more pain. Craved more Suguru. 

Suguru bares his teeth as he fucks you, your pussy tightening around him each time he yanks your hair. 

Each thrust causes your mind to blank. He was fucking all sense out of you. 

Suguru releases your hair before gripping your shoulder, yanking you back until your shoulder blades meet his chest. He reaches around in front of you, gripping onto your jaw, leaving you no room to look away as he tilts your head back. 

His hand digs into you, pain settling in your face as he holds you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He sounds nearly breathless, his eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as he looks at you. 

You furrow your brows as you look up at him, attention being split between his cock fucking into you and his hard grip on your face. 

“H-hurts.” You murmur, your pushed up cheeks making it hard to talk. 

Suguru’s breaths quicken, heart pounding as he thrusts into you. 

“Yeah? Hurts?” Excitement leaks from his voice. 

You nod and let out a sob when his cock presses against your gspot, his grip tightening. 

“What do you think about the pain?”

“L-love it. Love the pain. Love when you hurt me.” 

Suguru audibly swallows, throwing his head back as he lets out a low groan. 

“Think you can handle more, princess?” 

You agree, your mind swimming. He looks down at you again and releases your head, but keeps you pressed against him. 

His hand makes contact with your cheek, a sting instantly spreading across your face. He slapped you. And you liked it. 

Suguru does it once more, the force heavier this time. You moan out when he makes contact, all the while his cock punishing your insides. Endorphins swim in your head, muddling all remaining sense. You brace for impact once more, only to be met with nothing. 

He doesn’t slap you again. 

“Color?” You’re amazed he can even remember asking that while he’s doing this. 

“Green, oh, green.” 

Suguru smacks you again, his cock fucking you harder. You weren’t even aware you could moan this loud, but leave it to Suguru to give you a bunch of firsts. 

Your eyes roll back as he slaps you again. He feels a deep satisfaction spread through him as he watches the pleasure dart across your face. That’s what all this was about, after all. 

Suguru pushes you back down and you barely catch yourself, your hands holding you up. He puts one hand on your waist, placing the other one in your hair again. The loud noises from your connected sexes get louder, your pussy dripping even more as his cock drags inside you.

He pulls your head up, forcing you to stare in the mirror across the bed. 

“Look at yourself.” He wills himself to say. 

To say you looked debauched would be an understatement. Your face was a mess, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. You couldn’t see your ass or the inside of your thighs in the mirror, but you didn’t have to see them to feel they were there. They hadn’t been hurt in awhile now, but the wounds still ached something fierce. You briefly wondered how long they would hurt. Hopefully for a long time. 

“You look filthy. Utterly ruined.” His cock punches into you. 

“Ohhh, fuck, FUCK!” You all but yell as his cock bruises you from the inside out. 

Suguru moans behind you, going back and forth between looking at your face in the mirror and how his cock looks when he pulls it out. 

He pulls his hand away from your hip and reaches down, instantly finding your swollen clit. Your body lurches forward once he makes contact, drawing tight circles around you. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice is raw as it leaves your throat. 

Suguru’s hips stutter as he feels you get closer to the edge. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, loving the way you wince each time he holds tighter. 

“Fuck, you’re soaking. Pussy’s so good. Such a pain slut. You my little pain slut?” 

You nod even though it causes more pain to spread across your head. Maybe that’s why you do it. 

“Yes, I’m your, your pain slut.” 

Suguru groans out a curse, his fingers continuing their ministrations. 

“Gonna cum from getting knocked around?” 

Your stomach tightens, moans increasing. 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, fuck yes.” Your eyes clamp shut as you feel it start. 

You cum around Suguru’s cock, your pussy squeezing his cock as you shake beneath him. The earth shattering feeling catches you off guard, electricity shooting through your body. 

You register a groan from behind you before he pumps into you one more time before his cock shoots cum out, filling your spasming walls. 

It takes you a minute to recover, each gasp of breath bringing you back down to earth. 

Suguru slides out of you carefully, eyes drawn to the way the milky white cum seeps from your abused hole. He pushes back his bangs that came loose before going to the bedside table, rummaging around until he finds a towel. 

His touch is careful as he cleans you up, fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin as he wipes away all remnants of his cum. 

Suguru sets the soiled cloth aside before aiding you in sitting up. You whimper as your ass makes contact with the back of your calves. Your skin was on fire. He places each hand on either side of your face, the action instantly calming. 

“How are you doing?” His soothing voice comes out. 

Your eyes feel heavy as they look back up at him, his features washed over with concern. 

You reach out and ball your fist against his toned chest. 

“I’m okay.” Your voice sounds far away. 

Suguru pulls one hand away and grabs a water bottle that sat next to the bed. He brings his other hand to it and cracks it open, passing it to you. 

You grab it, tilting your head back as the cool water rushes down your throat. You take a couple of gulps before passing it back. 

Instead of the sharp pain from each of your wounds, you’re body settles into a dull ache. The wounds were definitely there, and they were pleasing. 

Suguru gets into the bed next to you and opens his arms. 

“Come here.” Another command, one that was much softer. 

You’re confused by the gesture but you scoot closer to him nonetheless, laying down until your head is directly over his heart. He was still shirtless, only his pants remaining but they were pulled back up and closed. 

“This is an important part of each session. I’m not going to hurt you and send you packing.” He explains, his thumb stroking your arm. 

His warmth seeps into your bones and you find yourself curling up closer to him. 

“That’s sweet of you.” 

“It’s the bare minimum.” He gently says, moving his head until he can see your face. 

Your eyes were closed but you were still very much awake, if not hanging on by the tiny grasp of consciousness you still had. 

“How did you feel about it?” 

You try to articulate your thoughts, many feelings surging through your body. 

“I really liked it.”

“None of it was too much?” 

“No, it all felt really good.” 

Suguru moves his head back as he gets comfortable. He had rented the room out for 24 hours, not knowing how long the session would last or how long you would want to relax after. He had no timeline, willing to stay here for as long as you needed. 

The contact with his skin was helping bring your heart rate down, the adrenaline exiting your body. Your body was sore, and probably would be for the next couple of days. 

“Thank you for helping me with this, I mean, giving me my first experience.” 

Suguru smiles above you. 

“No problem. I enjoyed it too.” 

You feel giddy at his admission. Now that you had done this once, you weren’t sure you could get enough of it. You were already thinking about what your next scene might look like. 

“Could we do it again?” 

“Hm, I don’t know, I feel like you should rest a couple of hours first at the very least.” He ponders, obviously teasing you. 

You click your tongue. 

“You know what I mean.” You say with a shy smile. 

Suguru chuckles above you. 

“I’m kidding. We can do it again. You know where to find me.”

You smile against him, your eyes shutting. Sleep overtakes you, the feeling of success spreading throughout your body. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

[hearts4golbach]

could u do johnnie guilbert smut? maybe with him being sub? like whimpering and shit 💀 idk how else to explain lmao 😭

Disco Stick. (Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.)

warning: consensual sex under the influence of alcohol.

im not sure if all of this is true so if its not pretend it is!

-

The club was definitely not my first choice of entertainment, but it'd do. Me and F/n pulled up to the most popular club near us, hoping we'd meet new guys to spice up our boring lives.

we got in surprisingly quick and went to find somewhere to sit and get drinks. we settled on the bar, sitting in the very far corner so we wouldnt bother anyone. I ordered my usual while f/n decided not to drink at all so she could drive us home. sadly, next time id be designated driver.

"its boring over here, once you get your drink lets go walk around or something." she offered, sipping her sprite.

i nodded in agreement. shorty after, i finally got my drink and we got up to walk around. i sipped on my drink as we began to walk into a crowd. i was worried id spill it. i pushed through a couple people carefully, making not to disturb anyone. 2 guys with black hair stood in front of me, i began to swerve around them before one turned around, bumping into me. luckily, my drink didnt get spilt.

"shit, i am so sorry." i heard an old, oddly familiar voice apologize.

"its all good," i looked up to see his face. "no fucking way, johnnie? do you remember me from chemistry?"

excitement twinkled in his eyes as he smiled. "yeah, you were the best lab partner i ever had. how could i forget?"

"i remember you too!" jake said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"sorry, jake! how could i forget you, you always made chemistry genuinely funny!"

"junior year chem was the shit with the 3 of us!" johnnie added as he giggled.

"we should catch up! ill buy you 2 a drink!" i yell over the blaring music.

"im down." he grinned. i grabbed his hand and we walked back to the bar, f/n and jake behind us.

as we sat back down, i introduced them to f/n. "this is f/n, she didnt go to the same highschool as us but we went to middle school together and weve been friends ever since."

jake shook her hand and johnnie waved. "im jake, and this is johnnie." he said, tilting his head towards johnnie.

"hey! its nice to meet you guys." she smiled sweetly.

we spent a couple more hoirs drinking and reminiscing over all of the awkward but funny moments we had together. the three of us were the chemistry group as people would say. although we fucked off a lot, all of us ended with a 95% or higher because we made that class bearable. id rather not talk about my other grades, though.

by the time we were leaving, me and johnnie were drunk as fucking sailors. we held onto eachother, stuck like glue as we giggled over everything. we frequently tripped, unsure of our footing causing f/n or jake to help us regain our shared balance. i had my arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other holding onto the arm that was wrapped around my waist. me and johmnie clicked, just like old times.

f/n and jake threw us in the backseat. johnnie laid his head on my shoulder and i rested my head on top of his. i was nearly asleep before i was awoken by johnnie gagging loudly. "ew, what the fuck was that about?" i slurred.

"i felt like it." he laughed. i rolled my eyes and got out of the car as we parked. i dragged johnnie out behind me and gripped onto him the same way i had before.

while i was drifiting off, f/n and jake had decided theyd just stay the night at our apartment. me and johnnie were estatic about our sleepover. "why dont we just share your bed?" he smiled and laughed, making his eyes squint.

i sighed contently. "that sounds amazing. you can be my pillow." i smiled sweetly.

"of course." johnnie slurred, following me into my room.

"goodnight, lovebugs, sleep tight." f/n teased while jake ooo'd from the living room.

i laughed at her comment and laid in bed next to johnnie. he looked deeply into my eyes, looking like he had something to say but holding back. but i knew what he wanted to say, and i wanted to say it too. "i was in love with you all throughout highschool." i confessed.

"really?" his face brightened, "i was, too. theres not a day where you dont cross my mind, still." he admitted.

"me too, i was so scared to reach out. i wish you said something before we graduated." i frowned.

"me too." he whispered, his eyes flickering down to my lips then back up into my eyes. his blue eyes pierced through mine, making my insides turn to mush.

we gazed into eachothers eyes for a solid minute before i leaned in and kissed him. he immediately kissed me back, grabbing my waist and pulling me in. it was passionate and needy, making chills run down my spine. i pressed into him, wanting more. his tongue swiped my bottom lip. i ran my fingers through his hair before flipping us over and sitting on top of him. his hands carefully slid down to my ass, giving it a gentl squeeze before moving down to grip my thighs.

johnnie pulled back. "is this okay?" he asked, breathing heavily.

i nodded fast, pulling him back in. i grinded down onto his hard member, making him whimper quietly into my mouth. he began to take off my shirt, breaking the kiss long enough that i could get his off, too. i lazily unbuttoned his pants, not bothering to break the kiss. i felt his hot breath heavy on my face. i pulled his jeans down just enough so i could see his boxers.

"fuck, y/n," johnnie whispered, pulling my shorts and underwear off from under my skirt. he didnt bother removing it.

i desperately oulled his boxers down, revealing his hardened cock. i bit my lip as i looked up at him. "youre okay with this, right?"

"yes, please, i need you so bad." johnnie moaned quietly, gripping my hips as i

lined up my entrance with his tip.

i slowly began to sit, just as eager to feel him inside of me as he was. "you dont know how long ive wanted to do this, pretty boy. fuck, you feel so good." i moaned, leaning down to kiss his neck, i sucked and bit, leaving dark hickeys all over his neck and chest.

his fingertips left prints in my hips, which were most likely going to bruise in the morning but the pressure was perfect. he melted under my touch, whimpereing curses under his breath.

i sped up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "youre so amazing," i moaned, placing my hands on his chest and tracing his tattoos.

"fuck, if you keep doing that im going to cum even quicker." he admitted, throwing his head back and biting down onto his lip.

i swiftly bounced on his cock, moaning and praises filled the room. "you fuck me so good." i tell johnnie, making his cock twitch inside of me.

"im going to cum," he whimpered and moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"cum with me, johnnie." i cursed under my breath.

my body tensed as i felt my stomach swirl and knot. i hit my climax, slowly riding his dick to help him ride out his high as well. he pulled out and came all over my stomach. "fuck." he said one last time, his body going limp.

i dropped down next to him, pulling the covers over our naked bodies. "i needed that so bad." i admitted before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

wrapped in eachothers arms, we slept like rocks.

[qveerthe0ry]

What Means to You, What Means to Me

Summary: Max Phillips changes everything. Written for @perotovar 's offering of Frith Word Count: 8,046 Pairing: Max Phillips Loki (The Trickster God of mischief and chaos) x afab! NB! Bisexual! Reader Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: smut, talks about gender non-conformity, talks about gender dysphoria as it relates to sex, GENERAL GENDER FUCKERY Beta: My sweet angel @for-a-longlongtime of course A/N: Under the cut

Author's Note: First of all, I just want to thank Erin for putting together this writing challenge and sharing SO much about Norse Paganism. The effort you put into this, from the moodboards to educational resources is incredible. And the fact that you've shared something so close to you with all of us made this writing challenge feel like getting a warm hug <3

Second, see the author's note I wrote at the end (as to not spoil the story) if you want to know the ways Loki ingrained himself in this fic.

_

You’ve heard of this queer club before, but you’ve never been inside. You’d thought the descriptors were exaggerations, but you find out quickly that you were wrong. 

Security is tight at the door, and they ask you questions as they scan your ID that sound like small talk but are a bit more probing once you think about it. Your pockets are patted down and you walk through a metal detector before you even breach the front door. 

You’re wondering if it’s even worth all this. You’re by yourself, no one’s meeting you here, and you don’t plan on going home with anyone. 

Really, you’re just bored, in a fairly new city with no one familiar but your new co-workers to converse with; those are the last people you want to be around on a Friday night after a long work week. 

So you’re here. Are there a dozen other queer bars you could have gone to on this rainbow-lined street? Yes. But none of them really feel right. So you’re here, finally in clothes that you feel comfortable in, around people who aren’t going to make you feel uncomfortable in them. 

And its reputation precedes itself. 

Gaudy. Over-the-top. 

There’s three floors, the top two cut out to overlook the dance floor in the middle of the ground level. There’s chandeliers everywhere, far too ornate for a fucking nightclub. Candelabras litter every tabletop with flaming wax that you’re sure is a fire hazard in an establishment like this. There’s fuzzy, cozy-looking lounges and really hot people walking around serving complimentary waters on gold trays and maybe it was a mistake, coming here. 

But you’ve already been through the TSA of nightclubs, and so you might as well grab a drink while you’re here and make the uber ride home worth it. 

At least the drinks seem to be cheap. You take too long staring at the specialty cocktail names when a bartender asks how you’re doing, and end up ordering your favorite drink anyways. At least they seem nice, unlike some of the bars you’ve been to at the not-mandatory-but-suggestively-obligatory happy hours after work. 

You sit at the bar, a little intimidated by the fancy decor and skilled dancers that overwhelm the club. 

The music is unsuspecting, something soft and melodic that you only realize is live music when your eyes settle on her. 

Her fiery red hair cascades down her shoulders, igniting all the skin exposed by her backless dress. She’s sitting at the piano in the middle of the dancefloor, obscured by couples and others dancing around her. 

She’s everything. The most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Her nose is strong and her jawline juts and contrasts with those soft brown eyes. You’re yearning before you can even realize it, a kind of consumption that leaves you breathing heavier than normal as you sip your drink probably way too quickly. 

You focus on her long, nimble fingers, painted red at the nails and fluttering so skillfully over the ivory keys that it makes your cheeks feel hot. 

The ringing of the keys doesn't register over the thumping of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears, which feel like molten lava. Perhaps that’s why you don’t notice she’d finished her set until she’s a foot away from you, placing an order you’d only know if you were able to read lips.

Christ, her lips. Plump and painted in the same shade of red as her hair and nails, they purse as she sips from a champagne flute. She’s so dainty, and poised, everything you’ve never had the desire to be. 

And she’s staring right at you. 

“See something you like?” 

Your breath gets stuck in your lungs and your heart flutters in a medically dangerous way. 

“You’re incredible.”

The words roll off your tongue without any go-ahead from your brain. 

She laughs anyway, with her head thrown back, and the sight of her throat elongated makes your own go bone-dry. 

“If I had a nickel,” she jokes with a wink. 

Your half-melted brain scrabbles for something to say so you can be graced with her presence for even one more second. 

“How long have you been playing?” 

She quirks her perfectly shaped eyebrow at you, and she smirks, and something about the way she can see through you like cellophane turns you on and it makes you feel wicked. 

“You don’t really care, do you?” 

From your peripheral, you see her long, toned arm inching closer to yours on the bar. Her fingers touch yours, feather-light, and you shiver before you freeze in place. 

“I— No, I do.”

You can barely hear her low chuckle over the house music that’s started to play in her absence, but you do, and it sounds like heaven and hell all at once. 

Slowly, torturously, she leans closer to you, and her bubbly breath ghosts across your cheek, your jaw, and then gusts in your ear. 

“Don’t lie to me, handsome.” 

Her tone is teasing, sing-songy in a way that might be annoying if you weren’t so aroused. 

Your fingers clench around the glass you’re holding, and her own do the same over yours. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

You don’t know if you’re more scared, horny, or irritated. They’re all three tied for gold, at this point, with tipsy coming in second and way too warm bringing up the rear. 

And the pure audacity this woman has is impressive, as she places her lips so so lightly under your earlobe. You hope to god her lipstick stains. 

“Ask me if I wanna get out of here.”

Your lungs inflate too quickly, and your eyes close, and you lean into the touch of her lips. 

“Where would we go?” 

It’s a stupid question. Why in your right mind do you give a flying fuck? She could drag you to the DMV and you’d happily follow like a pup. 

She stands from the barstool, tall, taller than you realized, and the proximity puts her between your spread legs. 

Your thighs flex involuntarily, and your fingers twitch and ache to touch her. 

“I know a place. If you want?” 

Her eyebrow is quirked at you again as she leans back. You can’t find your words, so you stand in answer, and now you’re too close. Every delicious curve of her body is pressed against your front and you unhand your drink to dig your nails into the top of the bar. 

“Please.” 

Her grin is so mischievous that it startles you, those sharp canines on full display. You think about how they’ll feel against your skin as she nods her head and prompts you to follow her. 

You might as well be wearing a leash, the way you trail her so closely. You twist your fingers as the nerves start to pick back up, and all of a sudden you’re in front of some elevator doors with a very huge and intimidating bouncer guarding the buttons and staring you down. 

“Before we head up, just so you know, I’m working with a… different set of equipment than you might expect.”

You nearly ask her to repeat herself, a bit too overwhelmed with the eyes on you and the situation you’re about to get yourself into. But your brain plays a game of catch-up, and somehow this little fact makes you feel more comfortable. 

“That’s cool— me too. I mean, maybe? I don’t know what— uh, what you’d expect me to have, but… yeah.”

Your voice trails off as the big burly bouncer chuckles at you, and your face could probably melt off of your skull with how hot it feels, but then she grabs your hand and squeezes to tug you into the elevator with her. 

The club sounds are nearly all drowned out now, and you’re certain she can hear your heartbeat in the silence as she crowds you against the back wall. 

“My name’s Max,” she says, speaking all breathy and low against the skin of your neck. 

You shiver, barely eke out your own name as her body presses against yours. 

It’s heavenly, the way she feels against you, but the way she teases your earlobe between her dark cherry lips feels hellish. You still haven’t touched her, even though your hands are burning to feel the silk of her dress over her waist. You’re intimidated and horny and mentally working yourself up to do anything on your own without her giving you direct orders.

There’s a ding, and all momentum is lost when she turns away from you to enter the snow globe of a penthouse beyond the open elevator doors. You follow eagerly.

“This is your place?” 

Your voice is awe-filled as you look around. The walls are just windows, and the city lights and the last few minutes of sunset brighten all the dark wood and leather around you. 

“Yeah, so’s the club.”

Her tone is nonchalant, and you gape at her as she steps out of her strappy, expensive-looking high heels. Maybe you shouldn’t be so surprised. She has all the confidence of someone who owns the world, and her cockiness is reflected in the ostentatious nature of the club and her penthouse. 

But you’re still shocked. Maybe you’re shocked because she’s chosen you, out of every other patron, to come up here with her. 

“It’s nice— the club. And here, too.” 

She chuckles and shrugs but she thanks you as her bare feet bring her close to you once more. You feel your hackles raise as she approaches, along with your heart rate, but she walks right past you. 

“Follow me.”

As if you’d dream of doing anything else. 

Her bedroom is all windows, too. The bed is huge, much bigger than a normal king, and the space itself is fairly empty of any personal touches. It suits her mystique. You feel like you have a million unanswered questions, but none of them matter when she shoves you down onto the mattress and straddles your thighs. 

Your mouth drops open, but she steals the words from your breath when she grabs your hands and places them on her hips.

Finally. 

Fuck, she feels incredible under this silky dress as you squeeze her waist and arch your hips up into her. 

You tell her as much, and get another one of those cocky chuckles that goes straight to your center. 

“Do your worst, handsome.” 

And maybe you’ve never been the best at getting into someone’s bed, but you’re certain you’re the best once you’re between the sheets.��

It’s no exception, with her. You’re so eager to please. You worship every last inch of her body once it’s revealed to you. You take note of all the places you kiss and lick that make her breath hitch, you tease her until her cock weeps, and you take her so far down your throat that tears sting your eyes. 

Her nails dig into your scalp, and you feel like the cocky one when she begs you to pull off, when she tells you that you’ve damn near sucked her soul out through her dick. 

Your clit is throbbing and you’ve soaked through your underwear by the time she hastily pulls them off of you. She kisses you breathless and bites your lip with her sharp teeth as you roll the condom down her length. The way she whimpers when you finally straddle her sends you reeling. Your hand finds her tit, and your palm rolls against her taut nipple as you finally get her cock to slide through your slick folds. She arches into your touch and she begs and there’s no force powerful enough to keep you from giving in to her pleas.

Her face twists up so fucking beautifully as you impale yourself on her. Inch by inch, so slowly, teasing her like she’d teased you earlier in the night. You feel satisfied and hungry at the same time when you’re flush with her thighs. Her hips buck when you pinch her nipple, and she hits the perfect spot, and neither of you have any resolve leftover. 

It’s a give and take that lasts too long and is over far too quick. You ride her, and she thrusts up into you, back and forth until you both crumble at the same time, blinding and intense and loud. 

You might black out. 

One moment you’re stroking her skin with your fingertips and thanking her over and over, and the next you’re sitting up against her headboard with a glass of water in one hand and her fiery hair in the other. 

She’s sighing in your lap, nuzzling into the heat of your thighs with her aquiline nose. 

“You’re incredible,” you say for probably the millionth time that night. 

She chuckles again, just like she did when you first told her, but her pretty brown eyes shine when she looks up at you. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

Your face gets all hot again, and you feel shy, eyes darting around the room to focus on anything but the gorgeous woman resting on you. 

“Does it bother you when I call you that?” 

You huff. 

“Not at all.”

“Are you trans?” 

You huff again. 

“No. I— I don’t know. I’m just… me. In-between. I don’t really feel like I fit any one description.”

She hums and presses a kiss to your mound through your underwear.

“I understand.” 

“I’ve always been like this, you know? Before I knew what it was. I just didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. Not in an insecure way. Just that it didn’t feel right.” 

“Do you want a dick?”

Her bluntness makes you laugh. 

“Sometimes I do.”

She nods, and the way her silky hair feels against your bare thighs makes you shiver. 

“It’s actually kind of awesome, I’m not gonna lie.”

She laughs with you. 

“Don’t rub it in.”

“I’ll rub it in if you give me another five minutes.”

She does.

You fall asleep in her arms, exhausted and sated and happy.

She’s gone in the morning. All the shades are drawn, those same hazardous candles from the club lighting the apartment dimly. Your clothes are dry cleaned and hanging in a bag you’re certain costs more than your entire outfit. There’s a note next to your half-empty glass of water on the nightstand.

See you around. 

Except you don’t. 

You wait eight whole days to go back to the club. You wear something nicer, go through the tight security, and saunter up to the bar with much more confidence than your first visit. You wait for her. You drink one too many and hope to find her walking around or playing the piano. 

A few people come up to you and ask you to dance, and you refuse each one with the bitter taste of irony on your tongue, and then you go home alone after last call with a headache and queasy stomach. 

Maybe she’s just out of town, you tell yourself. She owns an entire nightclub, she’s clearly a very important woman, probably quite busy, too. 

You go back the next weekend, and the next, and you don’t see her once. 

So after a month, you go again and this time you accept the offers to share a dance, grind against people with a weird confidence you know comes from the woman you hope to see tonight. You share meaningless kisses and buy a few people drinks but refuse an offer or two to ‘get out of here.’

You start to lose hope when the dim lights flicker brighter and last call is announced. But as you bid goodbyes to a group you were hanging with, that very large and scary bodyguard from the elevators is walking towards you, and this time his presence is more exciting and less intimidating. 

“Max would like you to come upstairs.”

And while it’s kind of annoying, and seems pretentious— why didn’t she come down here and tell you herself?— you follow. Eagerly. Once again. 

He lets you take the elevator up by yourself, and this time the anxiety is more anticipation than it is fear. 

Though, when the doors open, you’re face to face with a guy.

He’s got a familiar cocky smirk on his face, messy gelled hair, and he’s leaning up against a wall with his arms crossed. 

Panic, is what your body tells you to do, leave, run. But you’re frozen under his thick gaze. 

The elevator doors start to shut, and you take a step back when he moves to hold them open, but he chuckles. 

A cocky little chuckle. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Max.”

“No you’re not.”

“C’mon, handsome. It’s me.”

You shiver when he calls you that, but not in the same way you did when she said it. 

“Is this some kind of joke? Listen, she didn’t tell me she was exclusive with anyone—”

He cuts you off by saying your name in a pleading tone. 

“Come in, please, just give me a minute to prove it to you.”

Panic. Run. Leave.

You ignore every instinct to finally step out of the elevator. 

“You told me, last time, that sometimes you wished you had a dick. Right?”

You nod before you can think better of it. 

Who is this guy?

You’re no stranger to genderfluidity, the way a haircut or makeup or different clothes can drastically change someone’s look— but this isn’t that. This can’t be that. While they have similar features, her sharp noise was still softer, her eyes were less crinkled at the edges, her brow bone was much less prominent. If this is smoke and mirrors, she’s one hell of a magician. 

“Do you wish you had one right now?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. Are you guys twins or something? What’s going on?” 

He chuckles again, and you have to say, it’s much less arousing coming from him than it was from your Max. He reaches out to touch your arm, and you want to shove him away, but you can’t.

Your body feels frozen, again, but not from fear. There’s a strange sensation that courses through you, some unexplainable energy that makes your bones feel like they’re vibrating, makes your blood feel thick and heavy in your veins. 

It scares you, but the newly soft look on this Max’s face is just comforting enough to keep you from a full-fledged panic attack. 

That, and the fact that it’s over just as quick as it started. Your body loosens back up as Max’s hand on your arm rubs reassuring circles. 

But then you feel weird. A strange turning low in your gut, kind of like arousal, but not quite. And your pants feel tighter, more constricting than they did earlier. 

You look down. 

There’s a bulge in your pants, like there would be if you were packing. But you’re not. You’re certain you made the decision to leave it at home when you left earlier in the night. 

You look back up at him. He’s smirking. 

“You can touch it.”

You do, despite your brain screaming how weird it would be to touch your crotch in front of a man you’ve never met before. 

You have a dick. 

You feel it now, and while the feeling of it in your hand isn’t foreign to you, the fact that it’s sensitive and fucking actually attached to your body is. 

You pull your hand away like it’s been scalded. 

“What the fuck?! How did you—“

You stare at him open-mouthed and terrified and maybe a little bit turned on.

“Does it matter? I gave you what you’ve always wanted.” 

He looks from your face to your… dick, and back again, smirking, admiring, like he’s just finished an art project.

“Will it… Will it go back?”

“Do you want it to?”

“I— I don’t know.”

Max chuckles that damn chuckle, all full of himself. But this time, it’s her. You know it is, now. As crazy as it sounds, it’s the only thing that makes sense. This is your Max. 

“Why don’t you take it for a test drive? If you don’t like it, I’ll change you back.”

You gape at him. It’s all clicking. This is your Max, and they’ve listened to you and done something so fucking weird but so fucking sweet. You don’t know how, and you honestly are starting to care less and less the longer Max keeps staring at you like he’s proud. Of you or himself, you’re not so sure, but it’s working. 

“It’s— it’s you, isn’t it?” 

“I told you so.”

“Fuck,” you sigh, “where have you been? I came back. Every weekend.” 

Max hums. 

“I was a little caught up. Got into a bit of trouble, as I do. But I’m back, and I wanted to see you. I’m glad you came.”

“Are you— I mean… you look a lot different?” 

He shrugs. 

“Do you still think I’m hot? I can change back—”

“No! No, sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I was just confused. You’re still—”

“Incredible?” 

You huff a laugh, and finally relax for the first time since you got into that elevator. 

“Yeah. Incredible.”

His cocky demeanor falls to the wayside to make room for something more sincere. He takes a few steps until you’re face to face with him, and places a suspiciously cold hand on the back of your heated neck. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles. 

“I— I missed you too. That night… I’ve thought about it so much.”

“Mmm, yeah? Me too.”

You kiss the stupid smirk off of his face. 

He tastes the same as you remember before, like champagne and sweet mint and her. His teeth are just as sharp, scraping your tongue as it explores every bit of his mouth. 

His free hand grabs your hip and pulls you even closer to him and fuck, that feels better than it has any right to. Your cock stirs in your pants and you buck your hips again, fiending for this new type of friction. 

“Come to bed with me?” 

All you can do is nod and follow. 

The bedroom looks just the same as it did last time, but the lack of sunlight makes everything feel quieter tonight— slower, more serene. 

He turns down the covers slowly, and you stand at the foot of the bed, extremely uncertain about what happens next, even though your dick throbs with anticipation. 

“You still into this?” 

Max’s voice startles you out of your own head. 

“Yeah, sorry. Nerves.”

He hums and steps closer to you. 

“Nothing to be nervous about, handsome.”

You nod and let your eyes trace up and down his body, noting his broad shoulders in that crisp white dress shirt and his thick thighs under the satiny sheen of his slacks. He’s still just as gorgeous in this masculine form, and it’s as irritating as it is enticing.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” 

“Shit.” 

His words go straight to your cock, and you’re unashamed to palm it in your hand and press and curse at the completely new sensation. 

“I’m assuming that’s a yes,” he chuckles. “Do you want my ass or my pussy?” 

Your hand on yourself stills. 

“You— you have a pussy?”

“I can.”

And it shouldn’t surprise you, after everything else that’s happened in the last ten minutes, but it still does. Your breath stutters in your chest and your dick fills out even more against your hand and you distantly wonder how big Max made it, if it’s exactly what he wants. 

“Can I— Will you show me your pussy?” 

He leers at you when you ask, and it only turns you on even more. 

“I was hoping you’d go for that.”

He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but this whole mad situation has you feeling much more comfortable, in a fuck it kind of way. You step into his space and work the buttons free, and follow with your mouth. His skin is cold under the heat of your lips, and by the time his shirt hangs free from his shoulders you’ve made it your personal mission to warm up every inch of him. 

It’s easy to work his belt open, undo his fly and watch it open to a thick thatch of pubic hair. You pause to press your lips to his again, to reach around to cup his pert asscheeks as his slacks fall to the floor. 

You can’t stop grinding against him, even as you press him back and down onto the bed. You just follow, fully clothed, hesitant to deny yourself this new heady feeling of pressure to your cock. 

It’s only when he suckles your top lip and reaches down to palm you that you realize you’re teetering on the edge of embarrassing yourself. 

Your hips jolt away from him and it hurts a bit when you rip your lip out between his teeth, but all the better to take your mind off the intense, heavy arousal in your gut. 

“Okay?” 

He asks it with a smirk, like he already knows the answer, so you don’t give him one. You just stare down past your heaving chest to see the damp spot on your pants and start to unfasten them to relieve some of the pressure. 

“You’re gonna want to chill out. Refractory periods are annoying with those things,” he warns. 

You huff. 

“That’s kind of you,” you joke. 

It’s better, just in the thin fabric of your underwear, less resistant. You want to take them off too, but you’re afraid that the euphoria from seeing yourself with a dick will really conflate the issue at hand. 

So you shuffle down the bed a bit, and press your lips to Max’s flat chest, to his nipples that are half the size they were last time. They pebble quickly under your attention, and you bite down on one when you accidentally drag your cock along the mattress. 

He groans and arches into you, goads you on with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“Are you as good at eating pussy as you are at sucking dick?” 

It’s almost comical, the way he applies pressure to urge you further down his body. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You nip at his sparse happy trail as he pushes you down with his large hand on your shoulder and delight in the way his muscles twitch under your mouth. 

“Some time this century, yeah.”

You hum, nose at the wiry curls on his mound and grab the wrist of his hand that’s still pressing on you. 

“You’re not very gentlemanly,” you tease.

He laughs as he stares down at you with his dark eyes. His hand moves to cup your jaw and you let it, let him trace your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Is that what you want? A gentleman?”

You suck his thumb into your mouth as you shake your head, grinning around his knuckle. You bite down a little harder than you mean to and he hisses. He yanks his hand from your mouth to grab the back of your head and tug until your face is buried between his thighs. 

You relent, breathing in the scent of him, bypassing any preamble to shove your tongue inside of him. The way his hips buck into your face makes you smirk into his folds and dig your nails into the skin of his thighs. 

He still makes the most beautiful noises, when you get down to it. Desperate, hungry, eager. For as cocky as he is, he sure writhes against you like a shameless whore as he whispers curses into the dark room. 

You savor the taste of him, the warmth and tightness of him around your fingers, the scratchy feeling of his bush tickling your nose. The way his strong thighs tense and relax under your grasp makes you want to feel them do the same around your waist. 

You look up when he starts clenching around your fingers like a vice, and the thought of that feeling around your new dick makes you whimper into his pussy. You focus even more on the way you suckle and flick his clit, to try and set the arousal aside so you don’t come before you can even slip into him. 

He’s got his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his back arched off the bed when he finally shudders and comes. You work him through it, lapping at his dripping hole, letting him grind against your tongue until he’s squirming away from your touch. 

You’re dragging this out. Stalling. You press little biting kisses to his thighs and his mound as he’s coming down. Maybe if you just worked him through one more, you’ll be calm enough to—

“C’mere already.”

You roll your eyes at him as he tugs on you, but you go willingly to hover over him and let him lick his taste from your mouth. His hums are lower and more subdued in the aftermath and they rumble deep in your chest as you try your hardest not to grind into him. 

It doesn’t matter. 

His free hand wraps around your cock and the feeling turns you on so much that you almost feel nauseous. You can feel all five of his fingers there, even with how big his hands are. He’s around you, and the familiar sensation on the inside mixed with the foreign sensation against your skin is a bit confusing but so hot. He squeezes and you jolt, bite down hard on his lip, but it only makes him chuckle. 

“That good, huh?” 

You groan into the crook of his neck in answer, completely at a loss for words. 

“I’d like to say the novelty wears off, but I haven’t found that it does.”

You feel like you’re on fire, honestly, like you’re trapped in a burning building with no way out. It’s hard to speak or breathe or think with his hand wrapped around you over your underwear. You can’t even begin to imagine how good his skin is going to feel against yours. 

“C’mon, handsome, lie back for me.”

You do, with his help, reclined back against his decorative pillows. Your breathing is ragged as he takes his time getting your shirt off and pressing surprisingly sweet kisses to everything revealed to him. 

You ground yourself by petting his hair, coarse and a little sticky from hair gel but thick enough to be extremely satisfying to card through. For a moment you’re able to focus on the feeling of it slipping between your fingers instead of the throbbing of your prick. 

But then his thick fingers find the elastic waistband and creep underneath. It shocks you out of your false sense of security. When your panicked eyes meet his, they’re so warm and soft you think you could maybe cry a little about it. But he speaks up instead. 

“Are you still okay with everything going on?”

And you are, even though you’re hanging by a thread and preemptively embarrassed by what’s about to go down; you want it so bad. 

So you nod. 

“Words, handsome.”

You huff. 

“Yes, Max. Please.”

He hums and smiles. 

“Good boy.”

You’re engulfed by embarrassment when your cock jumps dramatically at his words, right beneath his hovering face. You feel even hotter when he huffs out a laugh.

But then he’s pulling your underwear, and it’s there, in plain sight, a gorgeous cock. It’s perfect, it’s how you’ve always imagined yours would look if you had one. Like Max knew, somehow, was inside your brain and could see the same fantasies that you could. 

It jerks again in the cool air. You can feel the blood rushing there, a powerful gush that makes it twitch when you think about how it’s your dick, on your body. He hasn’t even touched you yet and you can feel pre-cum dripping down your shaft. 

“Can I taste?” He asks. 

You nod, then remember your words. 

“Please.”

You can’t produce more than a whisper as you watch him lean forward, like slow motion, with his tongue hanging out dramatically and his eyes locked on yours. 

The first touch of his tongue against your skin has your hips flying off the mattress at a speed that you’re sure defies laws of physics. 

He just looks so fucking gorgeous with your prick eclipsing the middle of his face. Your prick looks so gorgeous. God, you’re starting to understand where cis men get their audacity from. 

You tighten your grip on his hair for no other reason than you need something to hang onto or you might just float off into space. He teases you with more kitten licks, up one side, then the other, and you watch in awe. You can’t take your eyes off it, even though it may delay the inevitable if you could. 

He kisses the head of it, and his tongue does something wicked right underneath it that makes you tug his head back by his gelled locks. 

“Too much?” He asks, even as he winces at your tugging. 

“You’re teasing, and all that’s going to lead to is disappointment on your end.”

God, why do you sound like you’ve just run a marathon?

“I’ll never be disappointed by making you come, handsome.”

He’s so fucking annoying. You want to fuck his face just to shut him up, but you know that would only last about ten and a half seconds. 

You curse and close your eyes and dig your head back into the pillows. He must take it as a signal to continue, because bright, staticky stars burst behind your eyelids when he takes you into his mouth for the first time. 

Fuck. You’re inside him. It feels hot and wet, kind of squishy, but so tight when he sucks and sinks his mouth down even farther. 

You yell. The dramatic noise is ripped from your vocal chords without your consent, and your eyes fly open to look down at him. Those plush fucking lips look so goddamn good wrapped around you, all wet and red and swollen. You squeeze his hair in your hand. You’re so torn between wanting to chase the warmth of his mouth and wanting to arch away from it. 

Then you feel it, that familiar twisting deep and low in your gut, only it’s ten times as intense as it usually is. You start to panic. 

“Max! Max, please, I’m—!”

He pulls off quickly, and squeezes the base of your jerking dick. It kind of hurts, and you hiss and watch in horror and wait for something to come out. But it doesn’t. It’s so weird, the way he’s manually shut down your orgasm with one touch. Completely different than the way you would have had to hold back without this new dick. 

“That’s—”

“Incredible, right?” 

You huff in the midst of catching your breath. You still feel like a hair trigger, but without someone’s finger hovering over it now. 

“Oh my god,” you sigh. 

He laughs and lets go of you. You watch him wipe the corners of his pretty mouth and distantly think that you can’t wait until you get used to this, so you can make him gag and watch his drool and your cum seep from it. 

Your dick jerks at the thought, and it’s strange to have the evidence of your arousal be so obvious. It’s like a damn car alarm. 

“Wanna fuck me now?” 

You laugh, delirious. 

“My new nickname’s gonna be One Pump Chump.”

He slithers up the bed to lie beside you. 

“It’s totally understandable. Normal, even.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. 

“How big is the sample size?”

He shrugs and smirks but his eyes focus on the bedsheets between you. 

“I know I seem like a douchebag, but I really just wanna help.”

You pout at him, but fix your face before he looks back up at you. You run your hand through his hair, gently this time, and something about this whole situation is making your heart feel all gooey. 

“You only seem like a little bit of a douchebag.”

He grumbles at you but smiles. 

“Besides, there’s like, a billion things you’re gonna want to try with that thing. You’ll get practice.” 

That thing suddenly doesn’t feel as pressing anymore. You’re still hard as rock, but it finally feels like it would take a little more than a gentle breeze to make you spill. 

“Let me fuck you, then.”

“Yeah?”

You nod and smile; and some of that eagerness comes back to light up his devious eyes. He reaches for the condoms in the bedside table and you admire all of the taut muscles under his tan skin. 

“You want help with this?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s kinda sweet. You’ve never actually put one on at this angle before. So you get between his thighs when he lies back and let him roll it on you. 

“You can definitely get someone pregnant with this too, so… be warned. Don’t sue me about it, it won’t go over well in court.”

Your dick bobs in his grasp as you laugh. It feels so weird and fascinating.  

“Noted, thank you for the disclaimer. And sorry about the lawsuit?” 

He squeezes your prick around the condom and smiles up at you. 

“No worries, that was decades ago.”

You laugh until the words catch up with you. But you don’t have time to question it much, because he’s lying back and spreading his thighs for you, getting a pillow under his hips so his glistening pussy is tilted perfectly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him so aroused and ready for you, and at the thought of how much more wet and tight and hot it’s going to feel compared to his mouth. 

You sigh and play with his little clit, still wet from your saliva. He keens and seeks out more friction and you have to fuck him. His pussy is even more enticing now, knowing you can slide your prick inside. 

You shuffle closer and try to remind yourself to take your time. You purposefully glide your hands up his thighs, feeling the way the hair gets more sparse and fine the further up you go. You’re delighted by the little goosebumps that form under your fingertips and the way he sounds so relaxed when he sighs. 

Shuffling even further now, you settle those thick thighs over your own and let your knees cage his slim hips. When you look up, he’s watching you through hooded eyes with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You really are gorgeous,” you tell him, softly, afraid to disturb what’s becoming a very peaceful calm before the storm. 

His breath hitches a little and you see it as it ripples his chest. 

“You really are handsome,” he winks back. 

Your hand wanders up higher, across his ribs, and your thumb presses against his stiff nipple and rolls it. You feel the small noise he makes under your palm and smile. 

Your other hand grabs the base of your cock, sure to keep the base of the condom from slipping down. The subtle move kind of makes you feel like a pro, and you’d snicker about it if the euphoria that flooded through your body didn’t overwhelm you. 

It’s kind of like an out of body experience. But you’re also painfully aware of your body and this new appendage and the way the feeling of it is wreaking havoc on your entire being. 

You slide your cock through his wet folds and even just this feels incredible, the way every bit of him feels rubbing against your sensitive cockhead. You can’t drag it out any longer, you know. 

“Are you ready?” You ask him hesitantly. 

“Are you ready?” 

You snort and roll your eyes and pinch his nipple. His back arches and the movement makes your dick slip down, press just barely against his opening. You suck in a breath and it takes every ounce of willpower not to shove yourself inside to chase that wet heat. 

“Okay, okay, I’m ready. Just fuck me already. Gonna feel so good.”

For him or for you, you’re not sure which he means, but it doesn’t matter. 

You try to take your time. You really do. But as soon as the head of your prick slips in it’s like you have no self control. 

You chase the warmth, plunge all the way into him, and stay. 

Oh my god. 

“Oh my god.”

Max chuckles at you and you can feel it. You’re so fucking wrapped up in him. Every little move, shift, clench, it surrounds you and overwhelms you. 

“You feel so fucking good, Max.”

You’re sure you look absolutely wild. Your jaw is permanently dropped, eyes wide as you try with all of your might to hang on. 

“Ditto,” he breathes. 

His eyes look dark and intense, when your eyes can finally focus in. 

“Do you— did you make it exactly how you like?” 

It’s so stupid to be asking questions right now but it’s the only thing you have to keep you somewhat composed. 

“Yeah,” he admits, a little breathless. 

“You get off on that?”

You know he does before he answers, can feel him clench and contract around you. You muster up the dexterity to find his clit with your thumb and press. 

“I do! I do, fuck.”

You finally start to inch out of him, slowly, afraid that too much friction will send you over the edge. 

“Are you using me like a toy?” 

He whimpers, and the sound alone makes you snap your hips back into him. 

“No, no, that’s not it.”

Your brows rise up in question, and you pull out again as you wait for him to explain. 

“It’s— I dunno. I like that you… hah, shit, like that, don’t stop.”

You feel smug that you’ve derailed his thoughts by starting to fuck him with a slow rhythm, if only because he’s derailed yours a million times in the two nights you’ve shared. 

You circle his clit and groan at the way his pussy squeezes you. It’s hard to even pull out of him, it’s like he’s sucking you right back in. 

“You were saying?”

And it doesn’t sound smooth coming from your mouth, your breathing labored and your voice strained. 

“I like that you’ll think of me when you fuck. I like knowing I made you like this for me even if others get to enjoy it. I like knowing— shit— I like knowing I’m the one that makes you feel good.”

You balk at his confession. Such a beautiful explanation for something so possessive. From anyone else it would sound so objectifying. But with this strange relationship the two of you have, it makes your entire body burn. 

You collapse on top of him once the words really sink in. You hide your face in his sweaty neck and begin to rut into him with the knowledge that you’ll probably crumble far too quickly, but you don’t quite care. 

“You do, you make me feel so good,” you tell him. 

He whines and works his hips against yours to meet your frantic thrusts. You grab his hair again and bite faint marks into his neck that make him writhe and squirm against you. 

“You do too— harder, please, fuck me harder.”

Man, your hips are starting to ache, just like with your strap, but this time the sensation of feeling him wrapped around your very real cock keeps the discomfort at bay and it’s just pure bliss. 

So you double down, raise back up to put more of your back into it. Your sweaty hands slip against his skin as you try to grab his hips for leverage. 

“You gotta touch yourself for me,” you pant. 

The way he scrambles to comply just turns you on even more, gives you one more tick in the ‘power tripping’ column. He looks so fucking beautiful under you, back all arched in pleasure, his face scrunched up in concentration. His bicep is bulging as he slides three fingers back and forth across his clit, so frantic but so practiced. 

You fuck him and try to think about anything other than how good he feels. You’re plunging into the world’s softest, warmest hole and he’s moaning for you, you’re making him feel just as good as you do, and you’re going to lose it. 

“Gonna come, Max. I can’t—”

“Do it, come for me. Wanna be the first.”

Your hips stutter as the wave finally, finally crashes over you. You try so hard to fuck through it, try to make him come again, but as the first shock of your orgasm spikes up your spine, you can’t think to do anything but try to bury yourself as far as you can into his tight cunt. 

You know he’s saying something encouraging by the tone of his voice, but his words go in one ear and out the other as you grind into him and rest your sweaty forehead in the middle of his chest. It feels so good you could cry. 

Your fingertips dig into the flesh of his hips as you ride it out, and your chest starts to burn and your throat starts to ache and your eyes start to burn.

You are crying. 

“Shit.”

It comes out as a broken sob, muffled into his chest, and he starts at the sound. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

You shake your head against him. 

“I’m fine.”

“I know, just breathe though.”

The breaths you suck in are all shuddery and stilted, and there’s snot, and it’s so embarrassing but comforting all at once. 

He urges you to slip out, and he even holds the condom for you, pulls it off, and ties it while you try to reel yourself in.

You don’t, not right away at least, because once you get over the crazy rush of endorphins and serotonin and dopamine or whatever that’s flooded your body, you start feeling extremely self conscious about the whole sobbing during sex thing, and the fact that he didn’t get off, and—

“Come snuggle?” 

You’re not sure when he got up, but he’s holding up a robe for you in one hand, and cradling your head in the other, and ushering you out into the living room. His fireplace is on now, and there’s a tall, snobby glass bottle of water on his end table. 

You’re tired, now. Like, bone-deep exhaustion. You slump into him where he’s sprawled out on his leather couch and close your watery eyes. 

“I’m sorry.”

He shushes you gently, pets your head that’s on his chest that definitely has your dried snot on it still. 

“Don’t be sorry. As long as you feel good, I feel good.”

You nod, and taking a deep breath comes easier to you this time. You brave a look up at him, and his eyes are warmer than ever as they reflect the orange-yellow flames.

“Thank you.”

He smirks then, and you feel the tension in the room shift. 

“So how was it?”

You grin and hide it in his pecs. You’re hyper aware of your spent dick lying soft and sticky on your thigh. You’re so much more tired than you ever usually are after an orgasm. It was all so different, every little bit of it. And there’s this calmness you feel now, after all the commotion, and it hits you all at once that it all feels right. 

There’s no cleaning your strap, putting away your toys, no sliding on your underwear to hide the thing that just gave you pleasure. There’s no awkward dissonance. It’s just… normal. Normal in a way it’s never been before. Effortless bliss, like a sensory deprivation tank. Nothing. 

“It was everything.”

-

Author's Note: I wanted to share a bit about what really resonated with me as I learned more about Loki. The one thing that stuck with me throughout this writing challenge is that Loki is not a bad guy. I will be honest, the only thing I knew about Loki before this was from the MCU, which to me seems like an oversimplification of the norse god from everything I've learned about him. Erin provided me with this very thorough video that analyzes Loki and his myths. To me, he seems like someone who liked to 'stir the shit' for the sake of curiosity. I didn't find much ill will at all in these tellings of his trickery, just a guy who wanted to fuck around and find out about things, someone who did more than just wonder what would happen.

Second, Erin said he's Like a fun older brother. Very playful and mischievous. Very straight-forward. Protector of outcasts; lgbtq+ folks, disabled people, neurodivergent people, etc. This was another driving force behind this fic. It wasn't a coincidence that Max met reader their first night at the club, they founded the club for the sole purpose of creating a safe space for queer people and takes an active role in making sure their patrons feel like they belong.

Lastly, Erin said their pick for me would be Max / Loki because of the gender fuckery, which excited me as much as it made me feel honored. When watching the aforementioned video, I learned about Loki turning himself and Thor into a bridesmaid and a bride, respectively. Loki himself was unrecognizable and was the exact image of a woman. However, Thor pretty much just looked like himself in a dress (this is paraphrasing.) I loved the idea that Loki's shapeshifting could not only be directed toward other people, but could vary in vagueness. These undefined rules for Loki’s gender felt like how I personally view gender in general, as well as how I relate it to my own identity, and I really took that idea and ran with it.

Anyway, thank you again @perotovar for this writing challenge and the piece of yourself you shared with all of us. I love you so much! <3

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender pt. 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Parings: Schlatt x Reader

AN: more setup and character building, the next chapter will focus more on Schlatt

I love yall!! Hope you enjoy :)

You watched the clock across the bar while absentmindedly wiping down the counter. The little hand ticking closer to the next minute provided minimal joy, but meant another minute closer to going home.

3:47

3:48.

The bar was fairly vacant this time of day, with the sun still being out and most patrons wrapping up their day at the office. Of course there were a few early birds partaking in their choice of drink, but they were typically the one drink and done type. The kitchen got more action from this crowd than you ever did behind the bar. It was also a Thursday, another factor that limited the amount of customers wandering in. You moved to the ice machine to refill your well, deciding to wipe that down, too. Not like there was much else to do.

After returning with the bucket of ice and dumping it in, three men strolled on in. You greeted them while one broke off from the group and made his way towards the restroom.

“Welcome on in! Seat yourselves!” Your cheery voice rang. One of them turned and waved a hand as a ‘thanks’, flashing a small smile. You took note of how young they all looked, a contrast to the other occupants inside, then returned the ice bucket back to its home.

I hope one of them actually buys a drink.

You sighed, looking around for something to refill or deep clean. It was hard finding things to keep busy with on weekdays, especially afternoon weekdays. There were only so many bottles of liquor to dust or beer taps to polish before becoming tedious. You settled on rolling silverware, occasionally glancing up from the task to peek at the men.

They settled into a booth after their friend had exited the restroom, sharing a few laughs. They were discussing something about a sponsorship from what you could gather. It’s not eavesdropping if they’re talking loud enough for you to hear.

After about fifteen minutes, one of them got up and strolled over to you behind the bar. He stood there impishly and waited for you to notice. You placed the silverware to the side and turned to take his order.

“Would you like me to run a tab for you?” You asked, looking up at the man.

“Yeah, what would be great,” he smiled. Taking in his features while he recited an order, you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes looked. They were warm, an amber-ish brown color, with long eyelashes, reminding you of bourbon: you could get drunk on them alone.

“Alright, I just need to see-“ before you could finish your sentence, three IDs were placed on the counter. Checking over them, you nodded in approval as he picked them up, securing them in his jacket pocket.

You took in more of his face. Strong nose and wide chin, facial hair growing down his jaw. He was very attractive. And also very tall. While his face was inviting, his stature was imposing, towering almost a foot (if not more) above you. You continued to input his order into the register, feeling your face grow warm.

“You got it, boss. I’ll have those out for you in just a moment.” You grinned while moving back down the bar to start the drinks. One lager from the tap, a grasshopper, and a double whiskey neat. Easy enough. You started the lager first, pulling the tap with your right hand, while reaching to grab a whiskey with your left, pouring it into a rocks glass just below the shelf. You stopped the lager once the foam was just about perfect, keeping an eye on your pour of whiskey. Maybe that’s a little more than double. Oh well. Returning the bottle back to its home on the shelf, you then grabbed a bottle of crème de menthe and crème de cacao, holding the bottles in one hand while reaching to scoop ice into a shaker with the other. After pouring, you placed the lid on the shaker, gave it a rough few tosses, removed the lid again, and gave a hearty dose of heavy cream. Replacing the lid once more, you shook it a few more times before pouring it into a coupe class, and garnishing it with a sprig of mint.

Once the three drinks were complete, you turned around to hand them to the man that had ordered them. You looked up at his face and blushed, noticing that he was staring rather intently at your back. I hope you’re not gonna be one of those customers.

“Here ya go!” You ignored his gaze and handed the drinks forward, trying to brush off the way this interaction was making you feel. He shook his head and exchanged a quiet “thanks” before a blush would creep across his own cheeks, turning around and making his way back to the table with his friends.

Normally when a man would stare, it boiled something deep within yourself and made you cringe, uncomfortable and unnerving. However, something about this guy made you feel… nice? Maybe nice wasn’t the word. Confident? Regardless, this was just another transaction with another customer and meant nothing. He hadn’t tried to actually hit on you, and seemed rather bashful that he was caught. You turned around and hummed to the song playing over the sound system, picking back up silverware to roll.

-

A few hours had passed and patrons had come and gone. It was an early night for you, which meant being out of the establishment by 8:30. Looking up at the clock, still ticking by too slowly for your liking, it was 8:15. Fifteen more minutes.

You were thankful for the hours you got here. Weekdays you were out by nine at the latest, giving you enough time at wind down with homework before getting comfy in bed. Your boss had been kind enough to work with not only your school schedule, but your schedule at the diner as well. What a saint. She had been understanding of your situation, what with needing to work two part time jobs because the full time market with flexible scheduling wasn’t exactly flexible when it came down to your class schedule. And sure, taking only a few credits per quarter and being online helped a lot, but most places were looking for nine-to-fivers, not only-available-mornings-and-nighters. In no world would working two jobs be ideal, but this was mangable for you. This is manageable for now.

You made sure to restock your bar, take the bussing bin of used glasses back to the dish room, and prep garnishes before clocking out at 8:30 on the dot. The night bartender would always be handed over a neat station, with all tabs lined up on the POS ready to be cashed out. You’d worked a handful of twelve hour shifts to know how frustrating an unstocked bar could be when another bartender hadn’t pulled their weight or side work during their shifts to leave in any state other than perfect. You exchanged a few words with the closer before walking to the back of house and getting your bag to head out.

You pulled your hair out of the messy ponytail it was in and raked your fingers over your scalp, sighing at the feeling. On days like this, (slow afternoons with mostly older crowds) letting your hair down was the first step to winding down for the day. You stood up straight and stretched before snatching your bag from the desk to walk out for the night.

The weeknight bartender waved you over as soon as she saw you emerge, the tall man from earlier standing in front of the register.

“Everything all good?” You asked her, seeing a receipt and a few bills cash on the counter.

“Everything’s perfect! Just wanted to make sure you got your last tip before heading out.” She smiled, sliding the stack towards you. You reached out to grab at it when the tall man placed his hand over yours. There’s that damn blush again. He cleared his throat before speaking up.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, I was just impressed watching you make our drinks. My friend said that was the best damn grasshopper he’s ever had,” a small smile tugged at his lips, almost as if he was embarrassed to be speaking with you. “Jus’ wanted to pass that on.” You returned the expression.

“Thank you, I hope y’all had an enjoyable night.” He removed his hand and nodded shyly, his friends leaving the booth and making their way over to him. Pocketing the tip, you ducked out the door not knowing how to continue the interaction while feeling a pang of guilt for not even getting his name. You shook it off as you took off towards your apartment, aching feet begging for the feeling of warm fuzzy socks and your comfy bed.

-

You hadn’t even walked through the door of your apartment when the cries of your cats became audible. Chuckling, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking your boots off while greeting the starving felines.

“Mel, I know you think you’re dying when you go more than eight hours without wet food, but the lack of crunchies in your bowl says otherwise,” you joked at the cat as she rubbed up against your legs. You walked over to the couch and set your bag down, trying not to trip over her. You bent down to pick her up, scratching under her chin. “Let’s get you fed and ready for bed, yeah?” She chirped back at you in response. You carried her into the kitchen with the other two trailing behind you. You placed a kiss on her head before setting her down in her preferred food-receiving spot on the counter.

Your night would start the same way your morning would begin. Getting three ceramic bowls out of the cupboard, and opening up a fresh can of Fancy Feast for your three non-human children. Of course Mellie was first, followed by Oats, and lastly Bones. No other order would do. Washing your hands after serving dinner, you considered what to have for dinner. Pizza, Alfredo, or Fajitas. All TV Dinners, of course.

You settled on Alfredo, removing the meal from the freezer and popping it into the microwave. Your mind wandered to the topic of the essay you needed to finish, mentally mapping out which direction you wanted to present it. The microwave beeped bringing you out of your little trance, and you swiftly removed the tray and grabbed a fork, settling back down on the couch much like you had earlier in the day.

You powered on the television and thumbed through the applications presented. Thank God for Roku. Clicking on YouTube and waiting for your feed to pop up on the screen was the second step to winding down for the night. You scrolled through uploads for a few moments, blowing on the plate of Alfredo occasionally, until settling on a video about the history of Nintendo.

You ate in near silence, the tv only on at a low volume. Throughout the meal, you tried to brainstorm ideas for your essay. You weren’t too happy with the current direction it was going, but knew it was too late in the quarter to switch topics or start over. You sighed, swapping the now clean plate for your laptop on the coffee table, and began to furiously type away.

You weren’t sure how long you were staring at the document in front of you, but it felt like you should have had more written than you did. You only managed to get through a few paragraphs before abandoning ship. The cats had all settled down around the living room, which inspired you to do the same. You saved the document before closing your laptop and returning it to the table once again. You stood up to stretch, snatching the discarded plate to place in the kitchen sink before retiring to your bedroom.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, determined to have made a sizable dent in the essay, only to neglect the task at hand to daydream. Sure, you often got distracted doing homework or projects, who doesn’t, but the source of your diversion tonight made you feel slightly embarrassed.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the man at the bar. About his gentle brown eyes, his soft-looking chestnut hair. Even his facial hair, a bit scraggly but somehow endearing. See? Embarrassing. He made you feel like a schoolgirl, butterflies fluttering around inside your chest. He had said maybe a total of five sentences to you and you wanted to lay down on your stomach and kick your feet in the air. After changing into pajamas and climbing under the covers, you let your mind run free, trying to recall every detail about him.

You remembered his name started with the letter J, having only glanced to verify his age when he handed you his ID. Was it Jason? James? Jared? You couldn’t recall, but hey, at least you knew it started with a J. Against better judgement, you unlocked your phone and opened up Tinder, deciding to swipe and see if just maybe this guy would magically show up. Maybe he was local and was just out for some cheap drinks with friends from out of town. Maybe he’s only in town for some family thing, linking up with buddies from college. The possibilities were endless, much like the men you continued to swipe past. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the grip on your phone weakening. The search can continue tomorrow. You plugged your phone in to charge, quickly checking to see that your alarms for the morning were set, before locking the screen and drifting off to sleep.

[bumblesimagines]

Silene Oliveira/Tokyo

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Toledo was a beautiful city, not that you'd been given much of a chance to get acquainted with it before being hauled up to a large remote house per The Professor's instructions. But the scenery was beautiful, at least. The view atop the hill allowed for the perfect view of the setting sun, made all the better with beer and the distant sound of music playing from the patio. A perfect evening and a perfect view... ruined by a voice that made your heart clench with bitterness. 

"Been a long time since I last saw you." Her light, airy, far too casual voice reached your ears. Your muscles automatically tensed, fingers tightening around your bottle, and the serenity of the view promptly faded. You bit your tongue and raised the bottle to your lips, finishing the contents and hoping the effects would soothe your mind. "(Y/N)- Or, well... It's Athens now, right? I guess I should get used to that name before the heist."

You stared straight forward, unable to bear the thought of looking at her without wanting to walk out of the whole operation. A face you once loved seeing, muddled with her actions and memories you'd rather forget. She was a reminder of the person who'd truly broken your heart and trust: René. The man who picked you up from juvie and promised to never abandon you like your parents had. The man who taught you everything you needed to know about heists, about guns, and thievery. The man you looked up to dearly and spilled everything to. The man who slept with your girlfriend nearly fifteen years ago. The man who'd been gunned down in the street only a couple weeks prior. Your brother, your confidant, your partner in crime, and the most disgusting man you'd ever known. 

You still remembered that morning when you returned from a night out with friends, hungover as hell but alert enough to notice the scattered beer bottles on the table, the lack of chatter in the small rented apartment, and best of all, the sight of seventeen-year-old Silene in the arms of thirty-one-year old René. You would've found the surprise and horrified looks on their faces humorous if it hadn't been for the betrayal you felt. Half of the morning was spent arguing with René while Silene cried uncontrollably until you grabbed a few things and got into your car, speeding off down the street and never seeing either of them ever again. 

You hardly mourned René when you saw his corpse and face on the news the day of his death. To you, he'd been dead since that fateful day. And you would've moved on, would've finally found some real peace at last, if The Professor hadn't sat beside you at the park a few days later while you watched your kid run around with his friends and offered you a job; A heist that'd leave you with more than enough euros to never work or be apart from your son ever again. Enough money to send him off to college, to find a nice place to settle down, and to live out the rest of your years doing whatever you wanted without having to worry about being arrested during 'work'. 

"This reminds me of the night we met." Silene - No, the code names were necessary, she'd been right in that regard - Tokyo said, her finger dragging down your bicep. You rolled your shoulder to shrug her off, huffing out a soft scoff. "You remember that night? They wouldn't let me into the bar 'cause I was a kid but then you and René vouched-"

"We helped you, got you a fake id, let you stay with us when you had an argument with your mom, and the week after you said you loved me, you fucked my brother and now left him for dead. Don't pretend things between us are fine, Tokyo. Don't flirt with me. Don't talk to me like we're old friends. We're strangers. Nothing more, nothing less. If you're that desperate for dick then maybe go hop on Rio or Denver's." You sneered at her, brushing past her with another scoff and making your way back to the party, back to the rest of your colleagues and away from the woman who'd ruined your life.

[xoxoavenger]

Drunk Under a Streetlight

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: But I knew you/Dancin' in your Levi's/Drunk under a streetlight, I/I knew you/Hand under my sweatshirt/Baby, kiss it better, I/And when I felt like I was an old cardigan/Under someone's bed/You put me on and said I was your favorite

word count: 961

warnings: drinking

cardigan masterlist main masterlist

That night, they get absolutely wasted. It's mostly because JJ knows Y/N wants to be able to forget about what her parents have done to her, to numb the hurt of their betrayal, but instead of depressingly getting drunk alone at the Chateau, they go to Charleston, just the two of them. They take the ferry and walk to one of the bars, laughing and reminiscing about how they used to come with their fake IDs, finding the places that didn't card and taking everyone and going crazy on weekends. Sometimes they would fall asleep in a park, waking up to officers telling them to leave, but sometimes they would rent a hotel room and continue drinking until morning.

"Maybe you should slow down." JJ says when she nearly falls of a chair finishing her drink. He's laughing though, and when she leans against him he knows it's time to pay the tab and find a hotel room. He doesn't think they'll continue drinking, not this time, but Y/N's had a rough day and he wants her to have the comfort of a bed tonight.

But it's too late in the night, and without them knowing everyone else has left and they're being kicked out of the bar. They stumble away, laughing and leaning on each other. JJ has halfway forgotten about his plan to get a room when Y/N runs ahead. 

"I have a song stuck in my head!" Y/N yells, one hand around the lamppost as she twirls to the music in her head.

"Oh! Oh! Let me guess!" JJ screams, grabbing her hands and spinning her around. It's two AM, but they are near a park, houses far enough away that they won't hear the couple's screaming.

"It's Taylor Swift!" She tells him, causing him to gasp dramatically and drop her hands, swaying away.

"I wanted to guess!" He wines, causing her to laugh.

"She has like, a million songs! I wanted to make it easier for you!" She laughs, falling to the grass on the other side of the sidewalk.

"I'm about to read your mind." JJ says, the street light making his light hair practically reflective and his eyes the brightest shade. Y/N is about to doubt him, tease that there is no way he could know that, when he stars singing. "I like shiny, yeah, but somethin' paper rings, uh huh you're the one I want!" He calls, and she can only laugh as he hums and dances, a splash on his jeans illuminated as it catches the light. She can't remember how it got there, but she smiles all the same.

"How did you guess?" She asks, letting him pull her up to her feet, the two of them singing out of tune and the wrong words as they twirled around, kissing in between words.

The truth is, she actually had Getaway Car stuck in her head. But it was cute that JJ started singing Paper Rings, or at least trying his best. They get halfway through Lover, which is easier to sing, before they collapse on the ground and fall asleep in each other's arms.

This time, they wake up abruptly not to a police officer but the sprinklers. They scream and stumble away, noticing that they've only been asleep for a short period of time; the sun had barely risen and the air was still cool, despite the summer. The couple grumble and take the first ferry home, sitting close to each other. Y/N was wearing JJ's sweatshirt that he had shoved in a small backpack that had shielded it from being wet.

As their headaches settled in, all Y/N could think about was her previous night. She left home. And sure, she hadn't been sleeping there for a while, but her parents hadn't actually kicked her out. All she could think of is that her mother didn't care, just yelled at her as she left.

"Baby," JJ was wiping her tears before she even knew that she was crying. She looked up, letting him put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," She was glad that in the morning the ferry was only full from the OBX to the mainland, plenty of people going to work there. Not as much so vice versa. "I was just thinking about how my mother didn't even care that I was leaving. She only wanted to save face, that's why she didn't kick me out sooner." JJ's hand went to her waist, under her sweatshirt to rub circles on her skin.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It's your parent's fault. I don't know why they wouldn't like someone like you." He comforts, pressing kisses to her cheeks and then one to her lips, even though their breath was sour.

"Probably because I was a terrible daughter." Y/N frowns. Maybe, if she hadn't pulled so many stunts, if she had tried a little harder, then her parents would have cared.

"Hey," How JJ knew what to say Y/N had no idea, because JJ never had the best parents either. "Parents are supposed to love unconditionally. They were like this before you started acting out. It's the same with my dad." He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer, hands caressing her skin. It's almost like he read her mind.

"Your dad is worse by a mile." She tells him, because it's true. But they both smile, if only because they don't have to deal with Luke anymore, and Y/N can't help but feel the love she has for JJ blossom in her heart. Her mother made her feel useless, weak, but JJ? JJ made her feel needed. She was important to him, and the fact that he made sure to tell her made her fall even more in love.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Eleven

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Author Master List

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER: Eleven

Elenora was happy at this moment. Between her starting work at the school and Tim’s work with the Marshal’s they had little time together over the last bit. Mainly, they had been staying at their respective residences and meeting up for coffee in the morning together, if time allowed. But now, now Tim was spinning her around the dance floor of some dingy bar outside of Lexington. Some of his friends from the army had invited Tim and Elenora out to listen to an Alabama cover band.

When the current song had ended, Tim had dipped Elenora low to the ground. Letting out a laugh, Tim hoisted her back up and put his lips on hers. It all felt like she was a teenager again. Making out on the dance floor.

“GET A ROOM!” Came a shout from one of Tim’s friends and Elenora just laughed as she pulled away from Tim to head back to the table. Tim, however, seemed to have a different idea and instead pulled Elenora back to him and once again claimed her mouth with his own. The kiss was passionate and Elenora felt her knees go weak, but Tim held her to him until finally he pulled his lips off of hers.

The two of them headed back to the table the group was sat at and Tim pulled Elenora into his lap when he sat down. Wrapping his arm around her and setting his hand down on her skirt covered thigh.

“Who would have thought Gutterson would have found someone as crazy as him?” Said one of the guys from across the table.

“You calling me crazy?” Elenora said with a large smile as she reached for her beer.

“Honestly, it is just nice to know you are real. We thought he was making you up. Arresting some naked girl in a fountain and then hooking up with her.”

Elenora looked back at Tim with wide eyes. “Is that what you told them?”

“I might have embellished a little.” Tim said, a sly smile on his face as he grabbed his own beer. He took a swig, and Elenora felt him settle back in his chair.

“As long as you haven’t been showin’ ‘em that picture.”

“Gutterson, you holdin’ out on us?” Another one of the men, Steven, asked with a laugh.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna see that one but me,” Said Tim. He turned his head and looked at Elenora. The look he was giving her was hard to decipher. She could not quite figure out what he was thinking while he looked at her.

Pulling her eyes away from him, Elenora looked at Tim’s friends. “So you said crazy like him? What kind of stories you got for me?”

It was about an hour later when Elenora, who was dancing with Steven and watched as Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She did not miss the way he looked at the caller ID and then at her with a frown. After he got off the phone, he made his way down to the dance floor just as the song was ending.

“We gotta’ go. Art called. Your grandfather is hiding out in the vet’s bar and Art and your daddy can’t get in to talk to him.”

“Gotta go to show that super hero card of yours?” Tim’s friend asked.

“Yup.” Tim was holding Elenora’s purse on his arm and used the other to present to Elenora. “I got the tab, so I’m ready to go when you are.”

Elenora took her purse from Tim and smiled at Steven. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Any time. You keep Gutterson in check there okay, it’s nice having him back at the meetings.”

When they hit the interstate, Elenora settled herself against the door so she could look at Tim. “I had fun tonight. Your friends are nice.”

“They’re assholes, but nice assholes at least,” Replied Tim. His left hand gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry, I had to cut it short for work. Was really looking forward to taking you home tonight.”

“Well, we will have a three-hour drive back after this. I’m sure we could make a pit stop somewhere.” Elenora wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Tim just let out a chuckle. “So, how do you wanna play this out when we get there? Am I hiding in the back, or are we coming up with some excuse as to why we are arriving together?”

“Honestly, I was just thinking we tell the truth. We went out with some friends for drinks out of town, and I wasn’t just gonna leave you there.” Tim looked at Elenora. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun watching your daddy squirm. He’s been asking lately if I’ve met this guy of yours. He says he is trying to be good and leave you be. Let you tell him when you’re ready.”

Elenora pulled up a leg and tucked it under herself as she watched Tim. “I’m impressed. He said he would give me some space. Didn’t realize you two were becoming so friendly to one another.”

The rest of the drive was filled with silence and idle chitchat, mostly to keep the both of them awake and focused, and once they got close, Elenora found her palms beginning to sweat and her heart began to beat fast. “Tim, I don’t know if I can do this...”

“If you want to stay in the vehicle, you can. Just climb in the back seat and get some sleep. I saw you driftin’ off over there, as much as I appreciate you stayin’ awake with me. You can rest Nell.”

They were within the town limits now, so Elenora unbuckled her seat belt and slipped through the center and into the back seat. Laying herself down on the fabric, she tucked her arm under her head and sighed. “This is kind of nice, actually.”

“We’re coming up on it now. I’ll try not to be too long.”

“Okay.” Whispered Elenora as she closed her eyes. It was a minute or so later when she felt the vehicle come to a stop and Tim opened the door, hopping out.

She could hear footsteps outside and then Art’s voice. “We interrupt anything?”

“I’ve been off the clock since five, so...”

“You drunk?” Art asked, his voice now sounding further away.

“I was headed in that direction, till this detour...”

Then it was just quiet. The only noises Elenora could hear were the passing vehicles and so she let herself drift away to sleep.

When Art Mullen had gotten up that morning, he decided that unlike every other morning he was going to try something different, there was a coffee shop on the other side of the Marshal’s office that Elenora had told him about. She liked to study there, she said, it had an amazing brown sugar espresso. She thought he would like it, but Art just never seemed to find the time. Today, however, he had decided to find the time. It was early, six am, but Art knew they would be open from his prior conversations with Elenora.

So there he sat in a booth at the back. Coffee cooling on the table and a newspaper fanned out in front of him. He had been focusing on the international news section when he heard Elenora’s laugh echo through the quite busy building. So when he had looked up, he had expected her to be laughing at something the young man behind the counter had said, but instead she was wrapped in his youngest deputy’s arms.

Art picked up the paper in front of him slowly and held it up slightly as to partially cover his face as he watched the two. He could only see Tim’s back, but he knew it was him, by the hair, stature and pistol at the man’s hip. Elenora was leaning against his side, her head on his shoulder, and his arm was resting along her back and hip. She had a large briefcase bag on her shoulder, signaling she must be on her way to work. Art watched as they waited in line, talking to each other in what appeared to be easy conversation. When they turned to head to the pickup counter, Art raised the paper and instead watched their reflection in the large windows of the shop. He watched as Elenora stood herself chest to chest with Tim and the two kissed, with Tim’s hands moving to the back of her neck.

So this was it, he thought, the great mystery of who Elenora was seeing. He knew he should not be surprised. He had a feeling something was happening ever since the night Elenora was attacked in the parking lot. Leslie had told him when Tim dropped Elenora off, he had stuck around for a bit, sitting on the bed and just watching her sleep. She had said it was the way Tim brushed the hair out of Elenora’s face that told her that Tim was in love with her. Art wondered for how long it had been happening, and how they had been able to keep it so hidden, considering they had no qualms about going out in public together.

When Tim had shown up drunk and seemed not too keen on the fact he had been disturbed, Art wondered if that meant he had been spending the evening with Elenora. The young mans plaid shirt open, revealing his undershirt, was an unkempt, relaxed look Art was not used to seeing. That was a thought for later, however, as the three Marshal’s sat themselves down at Arlo Givens table.

“How did you get in?” Arlo asked as he eyed Raylan.

“Deputy Gutterson served in Afghanistan.” Raylan said simply as he motioned to Tim. Art watched the way Tim’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the older man.

“He a mess-hall cook?” Arlo asked with a laugh.

Leaning back in his chair matched Arlo’s stare. “Sniper in the Rangers.”

Arlo looked Tim over. “So, he’s the shit. The Afghan war, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim replied.

“Yes, sir. I like that. Yes, sir.” Arlo spoke, his voice sounding somewhat amiable but also mocking. “So, what can I do for ya’ll?”

“We’re interested in Boyd Crowder.” Art began.

“Isn’t he out in the woods, uh, running a revival or something?” Arlo asked as he sat back in his seat.

Art leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Yeah, but we want to know if he’s helping Bo Crowder and if Bo’s reestablishing his business.”

Arlo just scuffed. “Why would I know any of that?”

“Because you ran Bo’s protection-and-collection business while he was in prison.” Raylan said simply, as if it was well known news.

“I what?” The sarcasm rolled off Arlo in waves, and Art could tell this was not going to go well for them.

“You deny it?” Asked Art as he narrowed his eyes at Arlo.

“Hell, yes, I deny it. That’s crazy. Why on earth would Bo do something like that?”

That seemed to be enough for Raylan as the man stood up from his seat. The chair legs scratched across the floor from the force. “Okay. We’re done here.”

“Mr. Givens, what we need you to consider...” Tim spoke after minutes of silence, but he was interrupted as Raylan grabbed the back of Arlo’s chair and his face appeared next to his fathers.

“What I’m supposed to say is, we know you ran Bo’s protection racket into the dirt. So it doesn’t take a prophet to see the future from here.” This caused Arlo to stand from his seat, with Art and Tim following suit. “Okay. You can either sit around, waiting to catch a bullet or...”

“What?” Arlo asked his son, the disdain dripping from his voice.

“Or you can accept protection from the Marshal’s Service.”

“How about we talk about my granddaughter. That Crowder kept her hidden from you, from me. Wonder if she turned out like you, an arrogant self righteous ass?”

“Don’t you talk about my daughter.” Raylan spoke as he pointed a finger towards his father. “How about instead we talk about Helen? You gonna forgive yourself if she gets caught in the crossfire, hmm?”

“You are no longer welcome here. Any of you.” Arlo spoke, turning around and looking to Art and Tim. “Tell the truth.” Arlo began as he looked back at Raylan. “You didn’t honestly think you could turn me.”

Raylan pushed his hat down a little farther on his head and sighed. “I came here as an officer of the law, because sometimes we have to make deals with lowlifes because we have our sights set on life-forms even somehow lower on the ladder of lowlifes than they. And why would you ever think I would let you anywhere near my daughter?”

The slap that sounded as Arlo’s palm connected with Raylan’s face was loud in the silence of the bar, and Art had to stick an arm out to hold Tim back as the young man pushed forward to intervene. Unsure if it was the why Arlo was talking about Elenora or the booze he had drank prior. It honestly was probably a little of both. “Mr. Givens, we’re taking down the Crowders, and you can either go with them or not.” Art said simply as he watched Raylan storm away from the group.

When Art got outside, he was greeted by the sound of his cell phone going off, and the sound of Raylan’s. Then, as Tim appeared beside him, the young Marshal’s as well. The three looked at each other before Art opened the phone to see a message reading ‘double murder, think it was Boyd taking out more cookers.’ There was also an address attached.

Art looked at Tim and then at Raylan. “I’m gonna ride with Deputy Gutterson. Raylan lead the way.” Raylan headed off to the car, and Art walked to stand next to Tim. “You and I need to have a talk on this ride.”

“Sir...” Tim began as he fished his keys out of his pocket and looked from Art to the SUV and back again. “There is something you should know.”

“I got a pretty good guess, son.”

“Well, then at least, be quiet cause she’s sleepin’.” Said Tim with a sigh as he and Art moved toward the vehicle and each carefully opened the doors and got in. Without waiting for Art to even do his seat belt up, Tim pulled out of the parking lot and headed out.

Once they were on the move, Art turned to look in the backseat, and there, curled up under Tim’s blue Marshal’s jacket, was Elenora. Fast asleep, using her hands that were laying palm to palm as a pillow. When he brought his head back to look at Tim, he found the young man staring out the windshield leaned back with one hand on the steering wheel.

“How long?”

“Since the night before she got the apartment.” Said Tim simply.

“So that story you guys told, when Wallace had her?”

“Mostly true. Didn’t actually catch her in the fountain. Met her at the bar, she asked me for a favor to help with getting the place. We’ve been going steady since,” Tim said casually as he continued to stare at the taillights of Raylan’s car.

“Steady?” Art questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Tim let his head lean to the right, and he let out a sigh. “Yeah, steady.”

“So, this thing is serious?”

“Yup.” Said Tim before glancing back towards Elenora. “Nell, you still sleepin’?” When now reply came, Tim pointed towards the glove box and gave Art a pointed look. “Open it.”

Art did as he was told and reached forward to release the latch. Looking inside, he strained against the dim light of the cab, but he could make out a few loose pieces of paper, a notepad, a box of condoms, which he raised an eye at and a small black box. Plucking it from the depths of the dark hole, Art held it in his hands and looked at Tim. “Is this what I think it is?”

“We went to some house party, a graduation thing at one of her friends. I saw her there with her friends, having fun, a smile on her face. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. We talked a little on the porch. She asked me what I was thinkin’ about, and honestly, I was imagining her leavin’ me. Cause before that, all night, all I could think about was growin’ old next to her. Didn’t think about work, not about the war, just her.” He rocked his head back and forth for a second. “Next day, I bought that.”

Art stared down at a thin gold band, with a large round cut diamond and a scattered halo of about a dozen small diamonds. “Tim...”

“Raylan doesn’t know.”

Art closed the ring box and put it carefully back in the glove compartment. “I figured seeing as how you don’t have a bullet hole in you. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Art, I wanna marry that girl back there. I just don’t know how to ask her daddy’s permission.”

Chapter Twelve