#srry. still outlining

[lapdogchase]

i think my main problem w the video essay is going to be sorting the information in a way where i say everything i want to say without circling back to expand on topics over and over. like sorting it ig

[almostempty]

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part one

wc: 12.5k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: rebuilding your life, chasing cans, and hitchin’ a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

to my pedrostories secret santa recipient @katiexpunk: this was a challenge for ya gurl to be srs (and it’s not a tentacle gangbang, i lied in ur asks babe i’m srry) i hope i hit the mark on a handful of the prompts though, i had high hopes that i could really challenge myself and deliver some breeding kink cowboy but i fear it’s more of a creampie kink—i hope that still hits, i have horse knowledge, but only rodeo adjacent experience so if any rodeo queens find glaring mistakes pls forgive me — but happy holidays bb, i really hope you enjoy-- EDIT: I MADE IT TOO GIRTHY (or something?? sorry!!) and had to split it into two parts, the second part will be up and linked as asap as possible, and i'll add the full text to ao3 so it'll be in one spot

tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, guilty yearnful joel, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin’ that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta–mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am 

thanks: to @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, ideas, etc.

The sun beats down on the gravel driveway as you pull your truck toward the old house. It looks almost the same as it did the summers you spent here as a kid when it was your grandparents–the peeling white paint on the porch railing, and the barn standing sturdy, but weathered further down the driveway. The fields stretched on as you rolled down the driveway, dotted with occasional wildflowers and critters dashing into the denser brush. 

The air blows warm through the window, same as you remember, but the weight of the memories feels different now. The summers used to feel endless here, the fields seemed endless, as did the sky. It all used to feel so liberating. It’s not an endless summer now. Everything looks smaller and more weathered. 

Except for the shiny white PVC fences on the other side of the driveway and the modern-looking house and barn built on the same soil you used to spend hours patrolling with your pony, Clover. She’d search for the best bits of grass as you laid across her back coming up with stories—some days you were an old-timey cowgirl traveling west or Clover was a wild horse you were training or you were on a quest to a magical kingdom together. 

But now it’s a new home for whoever bought up the parceled land your dad sold to cover the updates on the house when he inherited it. Someone with enough money for a fancy barn and shiny truck. You pull to a stop and hop out of the cab, still scanning the neighbor's property, making your first impression. 

Your dad emerges from the barn, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He gives you a smile and a nod. “About time you showed up,” he calls, his voice warm and teasing. “Thought maybe you had changed your mind.” 

You shake your head softly, rolling your eyes. “Nope. Nothing worth staying in that city for.” 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you round the bed to grab one of your boxes. All your belongings fit into a few boxes. At least, everything that mattered to you, everything that was still you. “Where do you want this?” You wonder how you’re going to manage living in the same house with your dad now that you’re an adult. 

“Just set it inside,” he said, gesturing to the house. “We’ll get you sorted after we have something to eat.” 

As you followed him toward the house, the outline of the neighbor's property loomed large. The barn caught your eye. It was close. A pair of horses stood in the near pasture, swishing their tails in the afternoon heat. The contrast was stark. Where your dad’s place still carried the scrapes and scuffs of decades–theirs looked new and polished. Smug even. Can a house be smug? 

“The neighbors are closer than I thought.” You cross the porch, the nostalgic screen door squeaking as your dad ushers you inside. 

“Don’t mind it. We look out for each other.” He points to the room you stayed in as a kid. “He damn near built the place by himself, and helped me with the new roof on this place.” 

You shoot him a sharp look. “You said you were gonna hire roofers instead of climbing around up there at your age.” He shrugs you off. Always stubborn. Convinced he can do it better and cheaper. Despite the toll on his body. 

“Paid him to help,” he argues, “wasn’t up there by myself. You don’t gotta worry about me like that.” 

You set your box down at the end of the twin-size bed, the room falling quiet for a moment. Your dad stays planted in the doorway, but his brows pinch and lips purse briefly before he lets out a breath. You scan the room, gaze landing on the floorboards, waiting. 

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he says, “You hungry?” 

You grin at that, letting out a shaky breath. Your father’s daughter, neither of you likes to dig into your feelings. He taught you to show love through actions, like keeping you fed, taking on hard labor jobs without a complaint, or changing your windshield wipers before the rainy season starts and you’re cursing yours out. 

“Yeah,” you say, brushing past the knot in your chest. “Starving.” 

The rumble of a diesel engine jolts you awake the next morning, the deep growly sound reverberating through the walls like thunder on an otherwise quiet morning. You groaned, stretching and blinking blearily at the pale light filtering in through the old curtains. It was barely dawn yet, which explains the dull headache you’ve got. 

Sleep had been restless. Tangled thoughts, ruminating on what you’d left behind. A failed engagement, the job you hated, the mix of excuses you had rehearsed for why you’d come back. You’d hoped coming here would ease the ache, but just when you were finally falling back asleep—the truck from hell pulled up to the house. 

The engine is already cut off, but now you can hear voices on the porch. Your dad’s, low and steady, just a hum, and another unfamiliar drawl. Whoever it is, they’re carrying on like the rest of the world wasn’t still trying to wake up. 

You drag yourself out of bed, wearing your soft sleep shorts and a thin shirt. The worn fabric clings to your body in places it shouldn’t, but you’re not thinking about being presentable, you aren’t really thinking at all yet. You drag your feet crossing to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee, for a brief moment you miss the coffee shop you used to stop at on the way to your old job, but the familiar roast your dad’s been loyal to has its charm. Like the free coffee at an AA meeting. It’s there and you need something to keep you going. 

You push past the squeaky screen door, stepping out onto the porch. Your dad sits on the worn bench, coffee in hand. Next to him, leaning casually against the railing is a man you don’t recognize. His black Stetson gives him a classic cowboy silhouette, the morning sun catches on the sharp cut of his jaw and the scruff on his cheeks. His plaid shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, his jeans are worn and dusty in a way that speaks to more than just appearances. 

He straightens when he sees you, pulling his hat off with one hand in a fluid, effortless motion. “Mornin’,” he says, voice low and rich. “You must be the daughter. Joel Miller.” 

You take a sip of your coffee. “Morning,” you mutter, voice still thick from sleep. “You always roll up this early, or is today special?” 

Your dad shoots a look at you, but Joel just chuckles softly. 

“Guessin’ you’re not a morning person?”

Your eyes are narrow, defensive. “I’m just fine in the mornings,” you say in a clipped tone that doesn’t support your statement. “Just not when I’m woken up by a jet engine at the asscrack of dawn.” The chill in the brisk morning air causes you to shiver for a moment somehow making you look more irritated. 

Joel glances at your dad with a faint smirk before tipping his hat to you. “Noted.” 

Your dad laughs. “Should’ve heard her when she was ten,” he says leaning back. “Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Still doesn’t take shit from anyone I guess.” 

“I’m right here,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Just sayin’,” your dad replies, raising his mug in mock surrender. He turns back to Joel and they resume their conversation about fence posts or something equally riveting. You let your eyes roam as you wake up, drinking the rest of your coffee, tuning in and out of their conversation about their plans for the day. 

The easy camaraderie between the two of them was clear. Like a friendship forged through shared labor and quiet mornings. They flow between their plans for work and that subtle gossiping that men do–convinced it isn’t really gossip–as they share updates about other folks in town and a few of the local businesses. 

“What about you?” Joel asks, turning to you and pulling you out of the fog. “You’re back for a while then?”  

It’s an innocent question, but it grates at you anyway. You stiffen. “Yeah, just taking some time,” you say vaguely. 

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push for a real answer. You can feel the weight of his curiosity in the air between you. He looks to your dad, who doesn’t elaborate, letting something unspoken pass between them. 

“Well,” Joel drawls, “good timing. Lot of work to do this time of year. If you’re up for it.” 

The comment makes you pull a face. “I’m familiar with hard work,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. 

Joel’s lips quirk again, into something like a smirk this time. “I’m sure you are,” he says with the faintest edge of a challenge. 

He takes a long swig from his stainless steel travel mug, trying to fix his eyes on the horizon. But damn, if it isn’t a challenge to see you standing there, looking every bit like you’d just rolled out of bed. In a shirt too damn thin for a morning like this, leaving too little to the imagination. 

He knew he shouldn’t be noticing something like that, shouldn’t look at you like that–especially not while you’re standing next to your dad. Hell, he shouldn’t want to look at all, but his eyes betray him. Darting for just a moment to your soft curves and the evidence of the chill in the air–the impression of your stiff nipples protruding in the soft fabric. 

Christ. He swallows hard, landing his eyes back on the scowl you wear on your face. You’re his friend's daughter. It just ain’t right. Sweet young thing like you. He battles the devil on his shoulder that reminds him you aren’t a kid. You’re a woman. A grown woman with your own life and clearly your share of grit, if the sharpness in your voice was anything to go by. 

He shifts on his feet, forcing his attention back to your dad who was still chuckling softly at something. Joel didn’t catch the joke, head too full of thoughts about you–or how to not think about you. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, unsettling him in front of your dad. 

You and him made loose plans for the day while Joel’s mind continued to wander. He shouldn’t have asked about why you were back. Your answer was vague, brushing him off like it was a privilege he hadn’t earned. For some reason that lodged it in his head further. He wanted to know more, even if he shouldn’t. 

Your dad stood up, stretching and declaring that all of you have work to do. You take that as your cue to head back inside, leaving the screen door swinging behind you. Joel lets out a low breath, shaking his head as he turns back to your dad. 

“She’s a spitfire,” Joel comments, keeping his tone neutral.  

“She is,” your dad agrees, adjusting his hat. “Good to have her back.”  

Joel huffs a small laugh, “S’pose we could use a strong woman around here. Keep us in line.” 

“No doubt she will,” your dad says, clapping him on the shoulder. The whole exchange stuck with Joel though. Something under that edge of yours, something unpolished that has him curious in a way he isn’t used to. He shakes his head knowing it isn’t his place to go digging. 

Your dad starts down the front steps. “Let’s get moving, then.” Joel moves mechanically, boots falling in line with your dad’s, but his mind is half on you—in that t-shirt, with that scowl on your face, and that faraway look that he’d like to unravel. 

You were used to hard work but your muscles weren’t exactly dialed in for the functional conditioning. It was humbling as you found yourself aching and exhausted by the end of the night. However, the fatigue did make it easier to fall asleep once your head hit the pillow instead of spiraling on about your failures until the birds started chirping. 

The next few days gave you a jump start into the rural routine. In bed early, up before the sun. Hot showers before dinner to wash away the layer of sweat and sweet-smelling dust from the pine shavings and hay. You found yourself looking forward to the strong coffee and the cool morning air before you started with your day. 

Your dad, and Joel, learned quickly to let you wake up rather than ask questions as they caught up on their plans before heading out together or splitting up. You didn’t mind listening, but you could feel Joel’s eyes lingering on you now and then. It made your spine straighten, determined to hide the sore muscles in your shoulders from him. If he was waiting to hear a complaint from you it was never gonna come. 

Despite getting more rest and having an endless list of labor to keep you moving–you often found yourself working solo and in silence during the day. A silence that your mind was more than happy to fill. You rehashed memories and dissected those little moments from your relationship with your ex-fiance that you wish you had seen more clearly at the time. 

You’re deep in one of those memories, mindlessly stacking bales of hay onto the trailer for a delivery your dad is making tomorrow when Joel enters the other end of the barn. He leans against the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you work. The warm scent of hay fills the air, grounding and everpresent in his life. 

It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a common chore he’d do without thinking twice. But watching you was a whole different story. Your shirt was damp with sweat as you leaned into the work like you’d done it your whole life. You climb up a stack of bales and toss down some from the top of the next row, unaware of his presence. 

He is mesmerized by you. The sharp look on your face like you were mulling over an argument, the fluid movements as you worked, and the determination radiating off of you as you worked at an urgent pace. 

His gaze drifts lower as you climb down and bend to heave another bale onto the flatbed trailer. The muscles in his jaw tense as he lingers on the curve of your back as you bend to grab another. The way your legs shift as you work. The outline of your body in that shirt, the soft grunt you let out as you hoist another bale had him thinking indecent thoughts before he could stop himself. 

Joel drags his hand over his face, fingers brushing his scruffy jaw. Heat burning within him that has nothing to do with the Texas sun transforms into irritation. He was considering copping out and disappearing before you even noticed him when he was outed by the damn barn cats. 

The orange cat comes sprinting towards him, but it’s the black and white one meow-yelling at him down the aisle that catches your attention. A dull thud echoes through the barn as you drop another bale and watch as Joel squats down to give the cats the attention they demand. You watch, catching your breath. He’s gentle with them, murmuring something you can’t hear before he stands and strolls toward you. 

“Afternoon,” he greets you in his deep baritone voice. Joel grabs the two-string bale of hay in front of you and drops it on the trailer with ease, grabbing another before you can interject. 

“I can handle it.” You huff as you resume your task. 

“Never said you couldn’t,” he replies smoothly, setting another down. “Thought it’d go faster with two sets of hands.” 

“I wasn’t in a hurry.” You eye him warily for a moment before slipping into a coordinated dance like it was natural. Tossing the rest that needed to be loaded up into the aisle for him to grab. You work in silence, just the sounds of hay shifting and boots scuffing against the barn floor. 

You break the silence first. “Dad says you and your brother hit the rodeo circuit in the summer. That true?” 

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

“Team roping,” he says, his voice warming slightly. “Me and Tommy hit most of the circuits within a day's drive from here. Keeps us outta trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “Hard to picture you in trouble, cowboy.”

Joel’s smirk returned, faint but there. “You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” He matches your playful tone. 

His words linger as you work, stirring something you don’t quite know what to do with. Your mind drifts to the idea of rodeoing, the adrenaline of it, the discipline it demands. You forgot how much you missed it, how much you gave up chasing a life that didn’t pan out the way you hoped. 

Joel shifts beside you, the faint scrape of his boots pulling you back to the present. You glance at him, catching the way his shirt clung slightly to his back, the easy strength in the way he moves.

For a moment, the quiet feels comfortable. Easy. The steady rhythm fills the space. But eventually, Joel speaks again. 

“Your dad said you used to spend summers out here,” he says, in a low and easy tone. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath from the exertion. “When I was a kid.”

Joel brushes some loose hay off of his shirt. “Guessin’ it’s different now.” 

“Everything’s different now,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. 

His brow furrows slightly. “What brought you back?” 

You hesitate, not looking him in the eye. You’re searching for an answer in the dust particles caught in a beam of sunlight. “Just needed time to…rebuild.” It’s still vague. 

“You runnin’ from something?” 

You tense at that, before covering it in sarcasm. “I’m not an outlaw,” you jest, earning you a small smile. He doesn’t press further, but you feel his eyes on you, steady, and patient like he’s waiting in case you offer more. 

“It’s not as simple as people make it sound,” you say finally, the words slipping out before can stop them. “Starting over, that is.” You sit on a bale and pull your work gloves off, running the back of your hand over your forehead smearing sweat and dust in a most unsatisfying way. 

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly. 

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten, but you ignore the sensation. “What about you? How’d you end up here?” 

“Had to start over myself, I reckon,” he muses, dusting off his hands before sitting down next to you. The words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he watches the cats play with a piece of baling twine. “This place made it easier—focusing on getting the house built and getting the business running. Your dad helped too.” 

That catches you off guard. “My dad?” 

Joel nods, finally meeting your eyes. “Just seemed to understand, I guess.” 

You stare at him. You’re disarmed by the softness in his tone. Like there’s more beneath the surface if you ask for it. 

Joel feels the air thicken. He takes in the way your sweat-damp shirt clings to you, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. For a split second, an image flashes in his mind—your chest heaving for a very different reason, your skin flushed and shining. His throat tightens, and he looks away quickly, cursing himself for letting his thoughts slip. 

The cats weave between your legs, easing the silence. But the air between you still feels charged. Your thighs are nearly touching. The proximity feels overwhelming for some reason and you're suddenly caught up in the details of his profile as he stares down at the floor. The lines at the corner of his eye, his nose, his lips.

He clears his throat and slaps a palm on his thigh. “Well,” he starts, standing up rather abruptly. “Just came by to check-in. See how you’re settling in.” 

“What?” You frown. You miss the grimace that flashes on his face, your eyes drawn to the cats darting away from the two of you. “How I’m settling in?” 

“Yeah, you know…” he gestures vaguely around the barn and your brows furrow and your eyes sharpen at him. Irritation flickers behind your eyes. 

“I told you I’m not afraid of hard work,” you snap, jumping to your feet in front of him. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, like you’re misunderstanding him. 

“Did my dad send you to ‘check in’ on me? Or did you want to see if I could keep up?” 

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly. 

“Right.” You cut, crossing your arms. You’re over this rollercoaster of a conversation. Your eyes catch on the deep crease between his brows and the glint in his dark eyes. Something flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s indignation or something else entirely. “Then what is it?”

His jaw tightens, gaze locked with yours. Something unspoken flickers in his expression. But instead of answering, he straightens, stepping back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says curtly. 

Your stomach twists at the coolness of his tone, the connection you just felt snapping like a wire. 

“This was a mistake,” Joel mutters to himself. 

“What was?” you asked, your voice deadly quiet. 

Joel only shakes his head before striding toward the far door. His boots echo on the floor and the cats follow after him like shadows, their tails swishing as they dart out into the sun. Joel pauses in the doorway, glancing back with a look you don’t understand. 

“Don’t work too hard now.” His voice carries easily before he stalks off.

Your thoughts have you spinning. “The fuck is his problem?” you wonder out loud, sharp in the warm air. In the space he left. 

But deep down, you can feel the edge of something else. Something more than frustration, curling low and unwelcome in your chest. The weight of his gaze was still lingering, and try as you might, you can’t ignore the way his presence had pressed into every corner of the barn, or the faint scent of leather and bourbon that still hangs in the air. 

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you.

Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

If you’re honest, though, despite your hostility, you seem to catch yourself studying him with the same frequency and intensity. You’re loath to admit you catch yourself hung up on his obnoxiously broad shoulders, his arms sculpted from the physically demanding work, and that gravelly morning voice he has before he finishes his coffee.

Aside from whatever Joel’s problem with you is, everything else seems to be falling into place. You catch up on your dad’s list of projects. You pick up a part-time job at the feed store in town, keeping yourself too busy to have idle time and too tired to dwell on the past or the future. You get to know folks in the town while you work at the register.

The town seems smaller than it was when you were a kid, but there’s also a charm in the simplicity that you find comfort in. The regulars keep you up to date on the town gossip, and you’re laughing loudly with your boss, Linda, one day over a joke she’d never admit to teaching you when your neighbor struts up to you with a list in hand for a bulk feed order.

You’re cordial to him and the man at his side who gives you a flirty wink that has you raising your eyebrows in disbelief for a moment before you put it together. “You must be Tommy?”

He grins brightly and offers his hand. “And you must be the neighbor?” You give him your name and a polite smile. Your eyes flick to Joel, taking in his neutral expression. His hands rest in his pockets, but his posture is loose, his broad shoulders back in a way that draws your eye before you can stop yourself.

As you enter the details of their order into the prehistoric computer, Linda chats both of the men up, asking them about their horses and when their next rodeo is.

You give Joel his total and take his payment, trying not to roll your eyes when he doesn’t make eye contact with you. You’re ready for the interaction with him to be over when Linda puts you on the spot.

“This one’s been talking about looking for a project horse of her own.” She nods her head toward you. “You boys have any leads for her?”

You can feel your face heating up as they both look at you. It’s not like it was a secret, but you weren’t planning on making Joel privy to your plans. You still haven’t forgotten the way he said this was a mistake after having one conversation with you. Or the way he is always looking at you. Like you don’t belong here or something.

“I’ll do you one better,” Tommy says. “We’ve got a couple of colts just getting started under saddle. They could use the miles, and they’re real sweet-tempered if you wanna come by during the week.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” You give him a genuine smile. “I’m actually going to take a look at one that’s got potential this weekend. Marilyn from the post office said her cousin’s got a six-year-old quarter horse she’d sell for a steal.”

Joel lets out a dismissive laugh under his breath. “You mean that Hancock gelding? The blue roan?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, slowly growing more confused by the reactions on all of their faces. “Why?”

Linda’s mouth is hanging open like you said the devil was gonna sell you his horse. Tommy gives you a modest smile like you’ve told him two plus two equals eight, but he’s too polite to correct you. Joel’s expression remains unreadable, but the crease between his brows deepens.

“Am I missing something?” you ask, hoping for an explanation. You do not like feeling like you’re being played for a fool. 

“She’d sell that horse for a dime and a handshake,” Linda says. “Her cousin broke her jaw getting bucked off that horse. That’s why he’s been out to pasture ever since.”

You’re quiet for a beat before the familiar challenge and determination wrap around your heart. “Can’t hurt to look,” you say with a shrug.

“Hancocks are notoriously stubborn and broncy,” Joel adds, his tone low and edged with warning.

“They’re also incredibly smart, loyal, and full of try if you earn their trust and ask ‘em the right way,” you shoot back, meeting his eyes for just a moment too long. Why does it always feel like he thinks you’re out of your element? Does he think you’re incompetent? It only strengthens your desire to prove him wrong.

Joel’s mouth presses into a thin line, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and it stirs something uncomfortable low in your chest.

“So I’ve heard,” Tommy cuts the tension simmering between you and Joel. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t work out.”

“Thanks.” You pointedly direct your appreciation to Tommy, not looking back at Joel. “We’ll give you a call when the order’s in.”

They take that as their signal to move along. You think that would be the end of the drama for the day, but Linda’s got one more tidbit in store after the door closes behind the two men.

“God, those two are so hot it’s unbearable,” she sighs. It catches you off guard, and you blink at her. “Too bad they’re cowboy Casanovas.”

“What?” You give her a scrupulous look, shifting on your feet as she leans against the counter.

“Oh, yeah,” Linda says with a knowing smirk. “Every buckle bunny in a three-county radius knows those two. I hear they have a sign-up sheet at the trailer.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, but the image comes unbidden—Joel, shirtless and panting, sweat glistening on his chest, his jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle taut as he leans over some woman. His gravelly drawl slides through your mind like warm honey as he murmurs something low and dirty, but you can’t make out the words. Your thought derails violently, and you scowl at yourself, heat rushing up your neck, but Linda’s still talking. 

“I’d stand in line for either of ‘em if I were single,” she adds with a shrug.

The image morphs into smug Joel tipping his hat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as some random woman climbs out of his bed. Your throat tightens unexpectedly, and you shove the thought away, scowling at the knot of irritation it leaves behind.

The trailer rocks faintly as you haul it slowly down the driveway toward the barn. Blue shifts inside, and the loud thud of him pawing at the floor, anxious to get out of the small space, echoes loudly in the driveway as you ease to a stop. You cut the engine and hop out of the cab, you can hear your dad’s boots on the porch steps before he’s striding toward you. “You actually brought him home, huh?” 

“You knew I would.” You grin. Your dad unlatches the trailer door and you slip past the divider to untie your new gelding and back him out of the trailer. Blue’s ears flick rapidly and he snorts like a dragon, wary of his unfamiliar surroundings, but you steady him with a calm voice and wait for him to drop his head before coaxing him backward. 

His hooves hit the solid ground and he blows out a sharp breath, shaking his neck to de-stress. “He’s gonna be perfect,” you say, running a hand along his neck. “Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

Your dad gives you a look that says he knows he couldn’t change your mind if he tried. His gaze flicks over Blue’s body, taking in his confirmation and conditioning, the scar on his back leg, the brand on his flank, and the stocky ranch horse build. “Linda said he’s got a bad reputation.” 

“Linda says a lot of things,” you shoot back, leading Blue toward the barn. “He was misunderstood. Had a rough start, that’s all. That girl who got bucked off never shoulda had him to begin with—not after he’d been out to pasture for so long. She was scared, and he felt it.” 

Your dad hums, the kind of sound that tells you he’s skeptical but not enough to argue. “Well, he’s in good hands now.” 

“And we both know I like a challenge,” you say with a steady voice, edged with something sharper. 

The sound of boots on gravel draws your attention and you glance back to see Joel strolling over from the direction of his property. His hat tipped low as his dark eyes flick between you and Blue. 

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth. 

Your dad turns and gives him a nod. “Joel.” 

“That the Hancock gelding?” 

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, adjusting Blue’s halter. 

Joel steps closer, his expression unreadable as he studies the gelding. Blue swishes his tail before shifting his weight, resting one back leg like he’s already starting to relax. Joel walks a circle around Blue, before pausing next to your dad. “Well-built,” he comments. “Is he sound?” 

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection?

Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn. 

Joel watches the two of you walk off, resting his hand on his hip. “She got a death wish or somethin’?” he grumbles.

Your dad crosses his arms, both men still watching the barn door where the two of you disappeared. “She’s tougher than she looks. And she’s got more patience than the two of us combined—for animals that is. Lord knows she’ll let us have it just for looking at her sideways.” 

Joel grunts, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck at the thought of you telling him off. “Hope you’re right.” 

“It’ll be good for her to have her own project. Haven’t seen that light in her eyes since she got here. S’about time she started moving on.” Your dad’s words eat at Joel. He still wants to know what you’re trying to rebuild from, but he doesn’t ask. Letting the silence stretch before your dad continues. 

“Plus, she’s got the right touch for it,” your dad drawls, tone laced with pride. “Always drawn to the ones that seem a little rough around the edges.” 

Joel doesn’t respond right away. His eyes narrow on the horizon, but his gaze flicks back to where you walked off, the sway of your hips lingering longer than it should. The deeply twisted interpretation of your dad’s words messing with his mind. 

In the barn, Blue seems less concerned about getting the lay of the land now that there’s food in front of him. He munches greedily, tearing hay out of the net tied in the stall. You’re buzzing with a mix of emotions, already imagining the next steps for the two of you. 

Your thoughts fall back on Joel and your dad, their low voices carrying faintly in the warm air. You can picture Joel still standing there, one hand on his hip, eyes fixed on you, that infuriatingly unreadable look expression he always has. 

Your chest tightens, heat rising in your cheeks as you lean against the stall door. You hate how Joel looks at you like that. Like he’s waiting for you to fuck up. To prove him right. Like he’s already decided you’re in over your head. 

“He doesn’t know me,” you mutter under your breath, “doesn’t know you,” you tell Blue, “doesn’t know shit.” 

Blue snorts softly, and you take that as his agreement, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Days blur into a steady rhythm—early mornings with Blue, afternoons at the feed store, and long evenings under the arena lights. Each ride sharpens your connection with him, his turns growing tighter, his strides more confident. Progress comes in small, steady victories, each one lighting a spark of hope in your chest.

One afternoon, when the sun hangs low in the sky, painting the fields with warm hues of orange and gold. From his spot near the fence of his own property, Joel leans one arm against the top rail, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes. Across the way, you’re working with Blue in the makeshift round pen. 

Joel can tell from the way you hold yourself that you’re tired. Your shoulders seem stiff and your jaw tense. But you don’t stop. Your voice carries in the breeze, warm and steady as you encourage Blue to make another pass. 

The horse resists, throwing his head and stomping at the ground, but you don’t flinch. You give him the space to settle before asking again. Joel’s lips twitch, with a hint of a smile. You’ve got grit. 

He can’t shake the feeling that you’re working off more than just the horse’s rough edges. You move with purpose and focus, but with a weight that doesn’t seem entirely about Blue. 

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist.

Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself. 

Blue gives in, his steps evening out as he settles into a steady rhythm circling you. Joel watches as you slow him to a halt. The tension in your posture releases and you reach out with ease and satisfaction to stroke Blue’s neck. 

That invisible pull between you draws your eyes to where Joel is standing. Your face hardens when you catch him observing your training session. He gives you a nod before pushing off the rail and heading into the barn. 

He catches glimpses of you working together in the mornings and evenings. He tries to stop himself from watching, but it’s useless. He catches himself inadvertently timing out his schedule to be able to keep an eye on you. Tells himself he wants to be sure someone’s keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Or that he’s curious about your progress. 

He can admit he admires your perseverance and the skill you have. He would never admit the way he finds himself waking up hard and aching thinking about you and what it’d feel like to have your hips rocking on his lap instead of a saddle, your tits bouncing in his face, and your sweet blissed out smile. And when trudges up the steps of your porch in the mornings to see if your dad needs anything from town—he prays neither of you can see the remnants of his sins in his eyes. 

He can’t stop himself from trying to talk to you, though. One morning he asks straight up, “How’s the project horse coming along?” He tries to sound casual, averting his eyes as he sips his coffee. 

Your smile flickers, equal parts excitement and hesitation flashing across your face. “Good,” you say after a beat, sitting on the wooden bench. “He learns quick, got good stamina and drive.” 

Joel hums, tilting his head slightly. “He give you any trouble?” 

Your jaw tenses, though you try to hide it. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply, tightly. 

Joel nods. “Good,” he says simply, but he still looks at you, like there’s something else weighing on his mind. 

Your dad clears his throat, breaking the tension. “She’s got him started on the pattern already.” 

“You gonna run barrels?” Joel asks, curiosity sneaking into his eyes. 

“That’s the plan.” 

Joel hums, taking a long pause. “You wanna run him in a real arena? Bring him over to get some practice in with the right kind of footing and see what he’s really got for a motor?” 

Your eyes narrow and your shoulders tighten, straining with disbelief. A real arena? It’s like nothing you do is ever good enough for him. “We’re getting along just fine as is, thanks.” The words are dripping with venom as you slip back into the house letting the screendoor slam shut behind you. 

Joel’s brows furrow. “Didn’t mean no harm, by it,” he says to your dad. “My mistake,” he adds gruffly. 

Your dad looks a bit miffed at the sharpness of your rejection but gives Joel a shrug back. “She’s always gotta do it her own way.” 

The conversation with Joel sticks in your mind. You’re still chewing it over that evening as you run Blue through some drills, working on his lead changes and corners. When you finally bring him down to walk to cool down you hear the sound of hooves hitting the dirt across the field. Sharp and rhythmic. You walk Blue along the fence line. Pausing when you catch sight of Joel and Tommy in their outdoor arena. 

Their horses move like extensions of their bodies. You loosen the reins, letting Blue’s head sway with every step as you stay transfixed on the two men. Tommy’s bay gelding moves with a quick, snappy stride. His hindquarters tucked under him as he spins on a dime at Tommy’s commend. You can feel the thrill and see Tommy’s grin from where you sit. It’s infectious. You roll your eyes as he tosses his rope catching the dummy steer in a single fluid motion. 

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel. 

He’s riding his big red mare, her muscles rippling in the sun as she powers forward at a lope. Joel’s hand is steady on the reins, his posture relaxed but exact. Every movement he makes is calculated, and deliberate, yet to an untrained eye seems completely natural and fluid. Like he and his horse were born to do it. He barely shifts to ask the mare to pivot. Her body arcs beautifully, bending around his leg as they make a sharp turn toward the roping dummy. 

You’ve seen good riders before, but there’s something different about the way works. He doesn’t just ride—he leads. Every muscle he moves is a quiet conversation between him and his horse. It’s seamless and controlled. And damn if it isn’t mesmerizing. 

He leans forward slightly, and your mouth goes dry watching his arm flexing as he tosses the rope with precision. His red mare halts instantly, kicking up dirt around her hooves. Joel adjusts his hat with a smooth motion, you can see the focus on his face. Serious and competitive.

You swallow hard as you change directions, still walking on a loose rein very aware that Blue’s sweat is long dried by now. You feel warmth burning in your core that has nothing to do with your tired muscles. He looks good out there. Too good. The kind of good that makes you think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your eyes drift, taking in the way his jeans hug his thighs, the line of his back as he shifts in the saddle. You imagine his hands, thick, precise fingers. Something coils hot and tight within you. You shake your head at yourself. You are not having those thoughts about Joel Miller who thinks you don’t know your ass from your elbow. You swing your leg over the back of the saddle dropping to your feet. Loosening your cinch and still trying to shake your thoughts out of your mind when you hear Tommy hollering at you. 

“Watch and learn, neighbor!” Tommy calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You glance up, cheeks burning as Tommy tips his hat your way with his charismatic grin. Joel follows his gaze, dark eyes locking on you for a moment. Tommy gives you a demonstration of his prowess with the rope–as if you hadn’t been watching–but, Joel says nothing before turning his mare and heading in the opposite direction. 

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine. 

You walk back to the barn, and the sound of their horses fades behind you, but that image of Joel sears into your mind. His commanding and maddeningly attractive exhibition just stoked a fire you’re desperate to ignore. 

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees.

You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo.

The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt.

You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor. 

Something ugly simmers in your blood and your chest feels tight. You attribute it to irritation, refusing to acknowledge any alternate reasons. You’re going to prove him wrong. 

You’re still staring at him when he turns to say something to the man standing next to him. You grit your teeth. Superstitious–as every cowboy is–his usual salt and pepper scruff is neatly trimmed, he’s got on a pair of deep blue Wranglers–nicer than you figure he owned, and a crisp long-sleeve pearl snap. Dressed to earn Lady Luck’s favor. 

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests.

Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye.

Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

The woman reaches to touch him again, and you feel a headache brewing in the back of your skull. Joel glances away from her, landing in your direction for the shortest moment, before his weight shifts and he takes a small step back. You scowl again, tossing your brush back into the tack room shelf with more force than necessary making Blue toss his head. Your heart thuds louder than it should and you run a hand over Blue’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm both him and yourself. When you glance back, the woman is still talking, but Joel’s looking at you again. His dark eyes are sharp under the brim of his hat. He nods, barely noticeable, before turning away from the woman entirely. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before loading Blue back into the trailer to head out. You weren’t sticking around to watch any of the other events. Especially not the team roping. 

You smile when you pull onto the highway. You count the day as a success and feel ready to enter a bigger rodeo. The idea makes you glow. Finally feeling like you’re getting back to your true self. You feel like a new woman compared to the version of you that showed packed up her truck desperate to put miles between your ex-fiance and your corporate nightmare.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, crossing your arms as your dad leans against the truck with a skeptical look. “The hell it’s not,” he replies, gesturing toward the trailer. “That’s floor is one step away from dropping your horse onto the damn highway.” You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. “I know,” you grumble lowly, disappointment sinking in your stomach. “I was just hoping you’d see something I didn’t.” “Sorry kid,” your dad says. “S’fine. I’ll figure something out. Or just eat the entry fees I paid.” “Or,” he says pointedly, “you could ask Joel.” You glare at him, fire burning in your chest. “I don’t need his charity.” “Ain’t charity,” he interrupts your sour attitude with a gruff tone. “He’s practically family. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.” The words stick, heavy and uncomfortable. You’ve got half a mind to keep arguing. Joel might be your dad’s best friend, but he’s nothing like family to you. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re dragging yourself up the steps of Joel’s front porch. 

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though.

It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating on the porch. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.” 

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. The gleam in his eye makes you want to say never mind. You brace for a smart-ass remark. “‘Course,” he replies. You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “Of course?” 

He leans back into the house to grab something, then he’s handing you his keys. “Load your tack up tonight, and get your bags in the living quarters.” “No need,” you shake your head, leaving him holding the keys between you. “I’ve got the truck. And a tent.” 

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You pointedly avoid how his sleeves strain around his biceps. “You’re ridin’ with us. Not riskin’ that truck dyin’ on the highway.” You glare, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, you’ve got a trailer with a busted floor and a truck with more miles than you’d like to admit on it—while Joel has a shiny truck from this decade and a horse trailer with a tack room and living quarters. Probably has AC and everything.

You catch the glint in his eye, realizing you’re the one asking for a favor and you steel yourself, reminding yourself to bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you grit out, holding your hand out for the keys.

The truck hums beneath you, the steady vibration doing nothing to ease the thick tension in the cab. Tommy’s passed out in the back seat, his hat tipped low over his face, leaving you alone with Joel and the steady drone of the country ballad playing through the speakers.

“You always listen to this?” you ask, breaking the silence as you reach toward the radio.

Joel glances at you, one hand resting casually on the wheel. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“Didn’t know you were a ‘sad songs for sad cowboys’ kind of guy,” you mutter, flicking through stations before he can answer.

Joel doesn’t stop you, but when you pause on something irritatingly upbeat, his hand moves toward the knob just as yours does.

Your fingers brush his, and the contact jolts through you like a live wire.

You pull back instinctively, your breath catching as your heart slams against your ribs. Joel pauses for half a second before retreating, his knuckles tightening faintly on the wheel.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Joel stares ahead, his jaw clenching as his thoughts spiral. He knew telling you to ride with him was playing with fire. But he can’t stay away from the heat. You glance out the window, pretending the spark you felt wasn’t real. It’s just Joel, always better than you, always an ass. The charged silence stretches on though, every shift of his hand on the wheel drawing your attention. Every shallow breath reminds you of his proximity. 

“This’ll do,” you say tightly. Joel huffs softly, but says nothing, keeping his eyes pointed straight ahead. Neither of you speaks again for the rest of the drive, but the weight of the accidental touch remains, thick and suffocating. The rodeo grounds are already alive with motion by the time you’re parked and unloading the horses. The evening sun casts an amber glow over the circus of trucks, tents, and trailers. You help get the portable fence set up and the horses settled before the three of you head off to check in at the visitor's tent and get your meal tickets. 

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables.

You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.” 

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re hungry enough to take the opportunity to sit and eat. 

“Name’s Cody.” He introduces himself while you eat. He tells you he’s a bull rider. Asks if you’re runnin’ barrels tomorrow. He’s chatty with a smooth and easy voice and a playful look on his youthful face. You answer his questions, politely, suddenly keenly aware of Joel’s gaze boring into the back of your head. It makes your spine prickle with something you can’t name. The heat of his stare burns into you, fierce and unwavering, making every laugh at Cody’s jokes feel like defiance. Cody continues on and you find it easy to listen to his stories, but you can’t help feeling compelled to glance over your shoulder betraying the distraction you’re trying to ignore. Cody points out some of the other riders he knows and invites you to come hang out at their campsite and have a drink. You’re still searching for the right words when you catch sight of Joel walking swiftly past your table. He mutters something to Tommy–who seems to be proving Linda’s rumors true with a woman wrapped around his arm and batting her lashes at him–and stalks off. Your stomach twists as you watch him go, irritation flaring hot and fast. “The fuck is his problem?” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your plate. Cody shrugs, clearly oblivious. “Who knows? Anyway—” But you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes following the path Joel struts down before he disappears.

You joined Cody and his friend for one drink, hoping it would ease your nerves. He had a kind group, a little rough around the edges, but tough as nails like you’d expect bull riders to be. They kept your mind distracted with their wild stories, but you decided to head back to the trailer before anyone got drunk and stupid. The walk back to the trailer feels longer than it should, every step weighed down by something stirring within you, something that has you on edge. You check on the horses before pulling the door open and climbing into the living quarters. The cool night air hasn’t soothed the heat that’s been simmering within you since dinner—or since that moment in the truck if you’re honest. You toe off your boots before looking up to see Joel, leaning against the wall, his jaw set tight, and his eyes sharp as they snap to yours.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing.

You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?” 

He shrugs his shoulders, but his expression remains cold. “Lookin’ out for you. Your dad’d kill me if I didn’t.” You laugh bitterly. “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Silence fanning the flames within you. “You aren’t my dad,” you snap, voice trembling with rage. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t fuck.” Joel’s eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffening as he steps even closer. “That’s not what I—” “Save it,” you cut him off, word sharp as a whip. “I don’t know why you think I’m so weak or clueless all the time. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m some kid you’ve gotta babysit.” 

Joel’s expression hardens, his dark eyes flash with something that looks like hurt beneath his anger. “That’s what you think I see?” his words come out like a dangerous growl. “That’s how you’ve acted toward me since day one,” you fire back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. “If you don’t respect me, Joel, just stay out of my business.” His chest rises and falls sharply, his breath warm against your skin as the air between you thickens. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he grits, voice tight with frustration. “Explain it to me then,” you challenge. Shaking with the force of everything you’ve been holding back. “Or stay away from me if I’m such a thorn in your side.” He works his jaw, and for a moment you’re glued to the corded muscle in his neck and the exposed golden brown skin of his chest. He glares at you, making no move to back off. His voice drops sinfully low and quiet. “You really wanna know?” “Yeah,” you breathe, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through your ribcage. “I do.” His hand moves fast, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he accuses in a rough and uneven voice. You blink. “What?” “You heard me,” he rumbles, dark eyes locked on yours. “From the first day, you showed up here, lookin’ at me like you had somethin’ to prove.” Anger burns in your veins. “How does that make me your problem?” His grip tightens, his body presses closer. “You ain’t my problem,” he mutters. Guilt twists into his words, “Shouldn’t even be lookin’ at you like this. S’wrong.” He swallows thickly, only sharpening the edge in his voice. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and it’s pissin’ me off.” His confession hits you like a brick over the head. The trailer is silent, but the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, and your ragged exhale seems deafening. 

“Then stop,” you challenge, voice trembling with defiance. “If it’s so wrong, just leave me alone.” Joel’s eyes darken, his other hand settles on your hip, fingers digging into you. “Can’t,” he says,  voice so thick with frustration, it sounds like it hurts. “Don’t think I want to.” 

Silence stretches and time feels thick and warped. Your ragged breaths fill the space. His eyes search for a reason to stop, but he finds none. 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he drops your wrist to wrap a large hand around your jaw, pulling you into a feverish kiss. Nothing gentle about it. It’s raw and desperate, equal parts frustration and hunger. Your fingers curl into his shirt as if you could pull him any closer as your teeth scrape over his bottom lip, in a sharp, biting challenge that makes him groan low in his throat. He angles your face so he can kiss you deeper, harder, until your knees feel like they might give out. Your mind goes blank, flashing white with anger and need. All you can process is the hot slip of his tongue against yours and the sharp bristle of his facial hair against your tender lips. Your back hits the cool metal wall of the trailer before you realize your feet had even moved. Joel’s hips press into yours, pinning you against his body–solid and unrelenting. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck, the edge of his teeth scraping at your skin. The rasp of his stubble sends sparks to your core, and you dig your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him toward you, needing him in a way that verges on painful. He lifts his mouth, breathing hotly against your damp neck. “This what you want?” he says, his tone matching the burning desperation coursing through you. “You want me to fuck it outta you? Til you can’t keep runnin’ your mouth at me?” “Shut up,” you snap, but the way your body arches into him betrays the hostility in your voice and the subtle stretch makes you keenly aware of how wet and needy you are already. He makes a low, guttural noise in his throat that makes your cunt throb. His hand slides down to grip your thigh, hitching it around his waist as he grinds into you. The hard ridge of his cock pressing into you makes you gasp. The sound you make sends heat ripping through him like wildfire. We can’t, he thinks, but the words die on his tongue. The thought of how wrong this is flashes in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the way you’re looking at him. The way your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him closer, your breath hot and shaky against his cheek. He can’t think. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. Not when you’re so soft and warm and furious beneath him. He’s helpless. His hand slips under your shirt, rough fingers brushing over soft skin, leaving a searing trail that grounds you as your mind spins. He pushes your shirt up, baring you to the dim light of the trailer. Time slips back into the warped, syrupy dimension as you absorb the unbidden lust and awe in his eyes. You’re the one exposed, but you feel like you’re seeing something just as naked in his face. Time catches up and you pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, committing to sin wordlessly. You shiver at the sudden contrast between the heat radiating off of his body and the cool air hitting your flesh. “Joel,” you gasp, your head tipping back as his mouth closes over your nipple like a wet furnace. His teeth graze the sensitive skin causing you to spew breathy curses over the top of his head. They only spur him on. He sucks hard enough that you tug him off you by his hair, but he only switches to your breast, delivering the same delicious punishment as his fingers roll and pinch at the wet, puffy, flesh he abandons. 

It’s like he can predict your needs before your mind can, biting down harshly enough to pull you away from the angry, hissing thoughts and keep you desperate to stay lost in the physical sensations. He palms the full weight of your tits, gliding his thumbs over both, slick and shining with his saliva. He presses them together before releasing them. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, taken by the way they bounce more perfectly than he could’ve imagined. It’s wrong to have you topless and panting beneath him, but his name falls so sweetly from your lips that it doesn’t matter. The heavy-lidded look you have makes him feel confirmed. When you moan lowly as the pain melts into pleasure when he kneads your soft, slippery skin, his cock aches and weeps for you. He needs more. He needs everything. Needs to wreck you, to see you so fucked out the only thing you can say is his name. 

It’s an exquisite brand of torture. 

You hate how good this feels, how badly you want him to keep going. To show you every move he knows. To break you down with his hands and mouth. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off. But your body doesn’t want that. You don’t want that. You roll your hips against his, begging wordlessly for more, as you tug at his hair hard enough to pull a throaty groan from deep within him. The sound he makes nearly has you short-circuiting, but he doesn’t give you the respite to fall apart. His hands are everywhere, frenzied like he’s losing control. Hasn’t he already lost it? You wonder distantly. Slowly, you realize he’s littering dirty little threats and filthy promises into your warm flesh. You hate the way his words make you shiver, how much you crave every pledge he makes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, sweetheart,” he husks hotly, just behind your ear. It’s a commitment you unwittingly pray he keeps. Some part buried deep within you blooms at the idea of feeling every memory of his touch as you go about your day tomorrow. “Get to it then,” you snap, hands reaching for his belt with urgency. Joel doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slips between your legs, teasing you through the soaked fabric of your underwear, and the sound you make at the pressure—the breathless, needy, whimper—makes him forget how to breathe. All he knows is that he needs to hear it again while he fucks into your soft, warm cunt. 

He wrenches your jeans open and works them down your thighs as you tear at his shirt buttons. He’s barely able to let you go long enough to pull his shirt off; watching you kick your pants off the rest of the way makes him nearly trip over himself. 

The air between your naked chests is sticky and warm. He dips his hand beneath the hem of your underwear, fingertips gliding over the soft hair on your mound making his eyes roll back. 

The edges of your vision blurs when he prods two big fingers between your slick lips, but you’re glued to the way his dark eyes are nearly black now. He looks every bit possessed by a beast, and fuck if you aren’t driven by the sick desire to make him snap. 

“You like having me touch you like this, don’t you?” His voice drips with need underscored by the slick sounds coming from between your legs. 

“No.” You rasp, as you grind your clit against his palm. He pumps two fingers inside of you, curling them just right to make you moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawls, thick like honey. You grip the muscle flexing in his arm to steady yourself. His concentration and competence makes your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“You’re gonna come for me, right here.” He declares. 

You shake your head. “I’m not—fuck—I won’t.” 

“You will,” he interrupts. Dark and calm. His pace quickens, fingers focused on the spot inside you that makes you a mindless wreck. His thumb draws circles around your clit. 

“Can feel how close you are.” Your hips rock and your muscles all pull taut. “If you’d quit fuckin’ fighting me.” He somehow crowds even closer to you. You feel like you’re about to snap when he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty and ragged. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, ain’t you?” 

“Joel,” you whine, angry and devastated. “I hate you.” 

You grip the back of his neck with one hand, and both of you watch as he finally takes himself out of his jeans. 

The view makes you salivate. 

Everything about Joel is rugged and masculine. The muscles carved into his arms and chest. The trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that thickens around his base. The deep flushed color of his thick cock. The ragged inhale he makes when he presses the blunt tip against the drenched fabric that clings to your swollen folds. 

“Say it,” he growls, rubbing along your barely clothed seam. 

“I hate you,” you whisper unconvincingly, digging your nails into the back of his neck and arching off of the wall. 

“Tell me you want it.” You can’t tell if it’s a demand or a plea. This strain in his voice and the muscles tensing across his broad frame make you tremble.

“I don’t.” You lie. You snake one hand down your body, peeling your ruined panties to the side so he can slot his tip at your dripping entrance. You tilt forward, impatiently, stretching around him just enough to override your filter. 

“Oh, fuck,” you start. Unable to stop the stream of whispered curses from rolling off your tongue. 

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, inching deeper inside of your tight, warm walls. He feeds himself into you slowly, the overwhelming fullness as you adjust makes your thighs shake. He pulls out and you whine, unable to say a word before he’s moving, dipping you onto the thin trailer mattress and slipping your underwear down your legs. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” he mutters. You spread your legs, making room for him to settle above you. He draws his cock back through your lips, coating himself in your arousal before driving into you with a powerful stroke. 

Your lips part, sucking in air as he sets a pace. He fills you deeper than you’ve ever felt, relentlessly making room for himself as he saws in and out of you. It’s powerful and primal, but refined by his athleticism. Fluid rolling hips and his strong core make you see stars as he fucks into you.

“That’s right,” he rasps above you, and you realize he’s responding to you. 

“So good,” you’re murmuring, “so full.” 

“Taking it like you were made for it,” he says to himself. The intensity of your tight, warm pussy coaxing him deeper makes him spill his thoughts. Unfiltered. 

He sets a pace, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke filling you completely before pulling back, leaving you desperate for more. The friction is maddening, plunging his length into your sensitive walls as he pins you beneath his hard body.   

“You feel that?” His breath is hot against your neck. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m splittin’ you open?”  

You nod frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whimper his name.  

Joel’s control falters at the sound of it, his hips snapping harder, faster, as his desperation takes over. “Thought about this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve thought about this too damn much. But you’re better than I ever imagined.”  

His confession sends a jolt through you, but you’re too far gone to process it, your body tightening around him as pleasure builds again, sharper and hotter than before.  

“Joel, please.”  

“Fuck,” he chokes the word out, his pace faltering for a split second before he slams into you harder, deeper. “Say that again.”  

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking as your release breaks through you, leaving you gasping and cursing.  

Joel’s hips snap erratically, pinning you into the mattress with a tight grip, as he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Every drop, sweetheart.” Make you mine, he barely keeps the last thought in his head. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chant as your body jolts with each collision with his. 

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, cock driving deeper and swelling at your words. “That’s it. Take it all, sweetheart.”  

Your release hits again, your body trembling violently. Or maybe it never stopped—he only drew it out of you in waves. 

Joel curses low, his hips slamming into yours one last time before you feel him pulsing inside of you, hot and thick. 

When he pulls back, his eyes linger on the mess between your thighs. “Look at that,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent. His wide hands slide up the back of your thighs, bending your knees to your chest so he can watch the mix of your releases glistening and dripping from you. 

He takes one hand and drags it through the mess, pushing it back up inside of you. You squirm, sensitive to the touch, but fixated on whatever is burning behind his eyes. 

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel.

To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that. 

But it never comes.

You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move. 

He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse.

Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠🤎

tagging the usual babes in case you want some cowboy!joel for christmas too:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[araybiaaa]

❝ homecoming, d. starkey. ❞  ‎

ooo. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈… drew starkey & original black!female character. (third person only; no first or second person perspective.)

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… black!fem reader, original black character, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, orgasm delay, edging (kinda), soft!drew starkey, soft!boyfriend.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… where she shows her boyfriend just how much she missed him while he was away.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… decided to write my first drew x original character fic! it’s kinda long because it seems like it’s damn nearly impossible for me to write anything short (i love excessive details srry). 18+ readers only! i hope you guys enjoy! likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ᝰ.ᐟ

she slips her tongue between his lips, swallowing the guttural groan that he breathes into her mouth. he slacks his jaw wider, deepening the kiss and reveling in the intrusion as his tongue intertwines languidly within hers. her hands reach up, sliding against the slender curve of his neck and sinking into the luscious tufts of his hair as she tugs him closer until their bodies are aligned.

with their mouths still preoccupied, drew toes off his shoes and absentmindedly kicks them aside before he begins discarding his clothing — undoing the buttons on his collard shirt until the fabric loosens around his shoulders. he shrugs out of the shirt until it falls to the floor with a soft thud.

“missed you,” she murmurs.

drew crouches at the knees, sliding a hand over the curve of her hip as he hefts her into the air. he barres her legs around his torso, his hands holding her up by her ass as he maneuvers them from the front entrance towards the living room.

“i missed you more,” he breathes softly, never once halting the onslaught on her mouth through the maneuver. 

it was pathetic really; drew was only gone for two weeks for yet it felt like an eternity for the both of them. it was two weeks without kissing, touching or holding each other. they attempted to make up for the loss of contact through their nightly phone sex conversations but it didn’t elicit the same unbridled pleasure as it did when they were the one’s milking their orgasms from each other rather than on their own accord.

they fall onto the couch as drew sits down. his hands slide over the embowed cupping of her ass as she straddles him — rubbing and kneading the soft flesh through her jeans.

“you’re not allowed to go out of town ever again,” she laments, though only halfhearted in her reprimand as she knew it was a requirement with his job. 

(which she was sometimes able to reap the benefits from when he was allowed to bring a guest along to accompany him. in the instances where he wasn’t — she would spend time at home missing him and impatiently counting the days until his return home.)

drew brushes the bridge of his nose against hers as he smirks, “i don’t know…if me leaving means that i’m greeted like this every time i come home then maybe—ah—fuck—”he’s biting down roughly on the skin of his lower lip, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure when he feels her purse his lips in a pucker as she imprinted open mouthed kisses against his neck. 

she arches her hips and fluctuates a slow teasing grind, chafing dryly against his groin. their pants still being on creates a frustrating barrier between them but the fabric of drew’s slacks are thin enough to where she’s still able to feel the outline of his protruding cock that’s rapidly swelling in its girth against both of their thighs.

his head falls backwards, leaning over the edge of the couch. she leans forward, pressing feverish kisses along the column of his throat, still thrusting and whimpering softly.

a tug stirs in her abdomen; her toes curl in anticipation as she feels her bottom lip tremble at the delicious friction between their bodies. it all feels too good; their pelvises nudging against each other’s like this, with drew’s hands still squeezing her ass while she oscillated her working hips on top of him.

her cunt throbs at the friction; the gusset of her underwear slicks stickily with her arousal. 

“baby,”

she proceeded with her ministrations until she nears drew to his edge. when she feels his hands tighten their grip around her and hears the shaky exhale of his breath, that’s when she scoots off of his lap and lowers to her knees before her hands begin to work at his pants. 

he lifts his hips up so that she’s able to tug them all the way down until they’re pooled around his feet. he moans loudly in content when feels her fingers wrap firmly around his cock. “hnn,” he widens his legs open; allowing her to settle in between his thighs.

drew’s body nearly disintegrates into the cushions the moment he feels her wet lips purse around his cock. his mouth gapes, eyes flutter hazily, nostrils flare as he breathes ruggedly with his chest heaving. she looked like a vision—her perfectly succulent, pink, prim bow lips were wrapped around his cock; her eyes were lulled over in lust, giving her this coquettish seductive look that nearly had drew cuming at the sight—she had a way of doing that, looking so innocent while doing the most vulgar things.

his little tiana was deceptive like that.

she had the face of an angel; beautiful and effervescent in her appearance. but ravenously lascivious when it comes to sex.

a common misconception would be that he was the dominant one in bed, but more times than not, tiana was the one who fucked him into submission, having him cumming mercilessly at her onslaught until his body’s wilt and limp with exhaustion.

his cock lurches in anticipation at the thought of being inside of her again.

she looks up at him again; her eyes doe, feigning innocence, eyelashes sitting high as they shadowed over her chiseled cheekbones, saliva messily dribbling down her chin. her cheeks were hollowed as her mouth puckered around his dick. she maintains eye contact with drew, slacking her jaw wider as she swallows him down inch by inch.

tears sting in the back of her eyes and she nearly gags at the girth of drew stretching against the back of her throat. tiana continues her feat until it’s just a few inches of drew’s cock remaining, too big to stretch further.

she croons at the sight of her lovestruck boyfriend as he sits there, reveled in content and enamor as he watched her. drew always looked beautiful; but it’s moments like this, where his skin’s flushed, eyes are lidded, lips are red and raw and kiss-swollen, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, that he looks the most breathtaking.

and it excites her to know that she’s the reason behind these lovestruck looks and has these breathy sounds coming from him. he looks deliciously disheveled and debauched and she can’t wait until he’s finally inside of her again so he can fuck her until they’re both creaming messily all over each other.

her hand squeezes and tugs while her mouth sucks at the swollen flesh. her mouth accommodates to his thickness, repeatedly sucking as her tongue flattens to lick up all of the precum that skeeted from his tip. drew’s hips thrust upward off of the couch, his hand wraps around the back of her neck as he licked his lips, murmuring blubbering appraisals.

she hums at the praises; stroking drew with her hand, fucking him with her mouth as she fluttered her eyes at him. she traced her tongue along the underside of his cock, hearing him gasp a sharp breath.

he mewls, thrusting his hips as he pushed himself further against the back of her throat. “fuck, baby,” she moaned, her throat clicking as she swallowed around the head of his cock.

she inhaled deeply and took him all the way into her throat, until her nose was tickled by his pubic hair. “oh, shit!” drew releases a prolonged moan, his body shivers as she hastens her speed and wraps her hand around the base of his cock, making a tight ring.

his orgasm arrives quick.

the wet warmth of her mouth along with the flirtatious looks and firm tugs on his dick has him conceding to his arousal. his breathing quickens and he’s biting down roughly on his lower lip, leveling his eyes down at her. “i’m close—” He forewarns, his throat clicking as pleasure spreads in his bones. “i’m so fucking close,”

she nods, reaching underneath his thighs as she fondles his swollen balls, prying his orgasm out of him. that’s all it takes before he’s moaning loudly and shuddering as the thick, warm, milky, fluids spill into her mouth. he slumps languidly against the couch, eyes flutter close as he hauls down from his orgasm.

she releases drew’s cock with a loud wet pop, her jaw loosens and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand after she swallowed all of the remnants of his cum.

watching and listening to his visceral reaction stirred a carnal arousal within tiana; whose cunt was throbbing achingly for him to be inside of her. she stands shakily to her feet, hurriedly shrugging off her clothing until she’s left fully nude. she crouched over drew’s languid body, straddling his lap again.

her wetness drags up his thigh as she adjusts herself in his perch so that she’s seated directly on top of drew’s cock again; this time sans any barrier of clothes.

“i love you,” he murmurs sheepishly, still disoriented and dazed from the post fellacio release.

“well, we’ve been together for two years now so i’d hope that you would.” she teases, brushing her fingers through his sweat slicked hair.

“two years, eight months, sixteen weeks, thirty two days,” drew says, reaching down and grabbing her hand, pressing soft kisses against her knuckles.

“i’m surprised that I haven’t tired of you yet.” her smile widens in mirth at his playful offense; he’s got his hand over his chest feigning a wounded heart and his lips jut downward in a pout with his expression reflecting one of a petulant child.

she rolls his eyes at the exaggerated expression, her features softening in awe as she stared adoringly at her boyfriend.

“you know that i love you more than anything,”

her love for him extended beyond any definition. what she feels for him is so much more than just love — it’s everything, infatuation, admiration, content, happiness. and there hasn’t been one instance where those feelings faltered even in the slightest, it’s always been drew that’s had her heart since the first day that they met and they both know it will remain as such until the end of time. it’s the kind of love that she’s always wished for, easy, kind and worthy of fighting for. drew was her life; her everything.

“i do,” he murmurs, reaching his hand up to cradle the side of her face. “it’s why i’m the luckiest man on earth.”

the sentiment makes tiana’s heart swell in enamor and all the teasing is suddenly forgotten as she embraces drew into another kiss, deep and vehement with their tongues messily intertwining and their noses bumping clumsily against each other’s.

his hands tighten around her waist as he leans them backwards on the couch.

regret is only brief as they realize how tightly fitted the couch is with the two of them sprawled out across it like this, but they disregard the hassle and absentmindedly throw the pillows onto the floor and settle towards the middle of the couch still with their limbs entangled. the cushions are soft against drew’s back and shoulders, he’s got his head tucked on the arm of the sofa with his long legs hanging off the ends.

she steadies one hand to grip the arm of the couch while the other slid in between their burning bodies. her fingers caress against the chisel of muscles along his chest, descending lower until she’s got a firmed grip on the engorged flesh of his aching cock. drew shivers, murmuring a soft curse in her mouth at the warmth of her fingers wrapped around him.

she leverages herself off of his hips and angles him at her center. she holds his gaze, nudging her hips forward so that he’s caught at her entrance. 

they both choke on a groan, feeling their throats click in pleasure.

then, finally, it’s a reconciliation of their bodies as she withdraws her hand from around the base of his cock and lowers herself down onto him. the tip clefts her open without preamble, the wetness of her arousal makes it an easy intrusion. she tucks her face in his neck, biting down on her lower lip as she feels the pleasure of his entrance licking up her spine. “drew,” She murmurs, already feeling delirious and full of him when he hadn’t even done anything yet.

he nods against her shoulder, needing his own moment of adjustment. “i know, baby, i know,” he murmurs, half-dazed himself as he rubbed a hand down her back. 

she arches her hips, feeling drew’s hands guiding the movements as she continued to lower herself until her cunt’s swallowing down more inches of his cock. there’s a painful twinge that spreads through her at the intrusion, his girth stretches her inch by inch, continuing its primal penetration.

the pain is immediately substituted with pleasure as she accommodates to the swell of him inside of her. she exhaled a loud sob when feels him bottoming her out. “okay?” he asks, the question soft as he murmurs it into her hair. 

she nods, feeling her cunt squeeze around him, a tell that she was fully adjusted and ready. she lifts her head from its perch and looks down at him; seeing a combined look of mesmerization and sheepishness. she leans in to kiss him; soft, slow and sensual. 

drew mimics the delicacy of her pecks, holding her chin between the grasp of his forefinger and thumb, getting lost in her kisses. it’s her that initiates the first move as she wiggled her hips and lifted herself off of him until his cock was halfway spilled out of her cunt. and when it’s just the tip and a few inches of him teasing her, she reclaims her perch on top of him — lowering herself until he’s caught at her hilt again. 

“fuck,” he murmurs, feeling his body reverberate at the stimulation. 

she whimpers, nudging her pelvis against his as she feels the base of his cock brush against her sensitive clit. 

“tiana,” he chokes on a groan barely keeping himself contained.

she moves slowly and deliberately, wanting to feel every inch of him everywhere until her whole body’s trembling with pleasure. she breathes ruggedly, her eyes holding the smothering weight of his stare as she looks down at him watching him unravel helplessly underneath her. her cunt gapes and stretches around the shape of his cock; pulling and suctioning him back in until he’s buried at the hilt.

“sweetheart, you, fuck, you feel so good," he’s a blubbering mess again, his fingers are shaky as they held tightly on her gyrating body while she pistons full body rolls.

it’s a catch and release of him stretching her until he’s caught at her hilt and left with no choice but to withdraw. she relishes in the tremors of his body as he writhed beneath her; how he reverberates whenever she tugs in response, clenching wantonly around him. his breathing labors, dropping a few octaves as he murmurs low expletives under his breath.

her pussy pulls him back in every time he slips out of her; it’s perfect the way they move in tandem, both reciprocating the emphasized movements of their hips, fucking each other into oblivion until their minds are delirious from the clouded pleasure.

he rolls his hips up into her, repeatedly brushing against her g-spot that makes her croon and nearly melt right there in his arms.

she looks beautiful with her skin sheened in perspiration, tits sitting high on her chest with her nipples erected, light stretch marks decorated on her hips, pussy glistening and swollen from his intrusion. her eyes are glossy as tears of pleasure lined in her pupils, her mouth’s parted ajar, throat clicks as choked up sobs and breathy mewls falls off of her kiss swollen lips. 

she furrows her eyebrows, catching her trembling bottom lip between the grip of her teeth as she cants her hips, chafing her pelvis against his as she chased her orgasm. 

“like that, baby, just like that.” drew purrs encouragingly. His hands round to her ass, shoving her further down onto his cock to where she nearly feels him curled inside of her belly. she clenches wantonly around him; the lewd and noisy sounds of their sweaty skin intermingling ricochets throughout the room.

his fingernails are carving indention marks into the skin on her thighs, but that caring, along with anything else except for the delicious stroke of drew’s cock penetrating her in languorous thrusts is absentmindedly disregarded from her mind.

“baby,” he shudders, his movements are becoming more lethargic in their attempts, indicating that his release was approaching.

she knows that he’s prolonging his own orgasm’s release so that she’s fully satiated first; he persevered through the edging, heeding his virility as he fucks her to her release. “come on, come on,” he urges, desperate and shaking in need.

she arches her back; changing the angle a bit so that she feels every penetration of drew fucking into her deep in her bones. she alternates between bouncing and rolling her hips, desperate to feel him cum inside of her.

on a low, keening whine, her spine tingles, the onset of an orgasm that feels almost too big for her body to contain.

and drew just as needy too, because when he feels the pressure of his balls tightening, he groans gutturally against her throat before sliding a hand in between her thighs. his thumb fondles her clitoris lip, lifting it up just enough so that he’s able to press his thumb against her clit. she moans loudly, tossing her head back as she feels the overstimulating pleasure spread through her.

that’s all it takes before she’s cuming messily, her chest heaves as she feels her body succumb to her orgasm. she continues to fuck herself against him, hearing the timbre of his breathing lower as a tightness tugged in his balls again and his cock lurched inside of her. 

“i love you,” she whispers against his lips, hearing his soft whimper of retort. 

“i love you too,” he murmurs, choking on a groan as he feels the warmth of his cum leaking from his body as it spills inside of her.

[laura1633]

I know you might be busy (srry in advance) BUT could you write a short drabble about Max going completely feral over those photos of Charles at that football match, having to wait for him to come back just for Max to ride the fuck out of him? PLZ im begging

Lovee the way you write bottom max!

Hi anon, thank you for the message ♥️. I am really happy you enjoy bottom Max stories, they are always fun to write 😃 Thanks so much for messaging me, I always love to hear from people.

I am not sure exactly which photos you mean sorry, I don't know if I have missed some photos recently! I still wanted to write you something though so I have based this around various photos I have seen of Charles in his football kit playing in charity football matches (I'm not sure if that is what you meant though). It all went a bit random and was a little rushed so sorry about that 😂 hopefully you still enjoy.

Max whines to himself as he scrolls through instagram and sees photo after photo of Charles at the charity football match. It’s been a week since he last saw his boyfriend in person and if his jet hadn’t taken off twenty minutes late he would have made it home before the Monegasque had disappeared off to the game. Maybe then he wouldn’t be feeling quite so feral.

They’ve gone a week without sex before of course. Or at least Max thinks they have, although he’s not quite sure when. It’s never felt quite as frustrating as the last week though. Perhaps it is Charles’ promise of fucking all night when they finally get back together that has Max’s skin burning up or perhaps it’s the phone sex from the night before that has him longing for the real thing. Whatever the reason, Max feels whiny and very, very, needy.

The Dutchman goes back to scrolling on his phone as he lazily starts to palm over his cock. As he scrolls through the comments he takes a certain amount of satisfaction from the thirsty responses about his boyfriend - they can all look but only Max gets to touch. 

As he checks out another photo he feels his dick twitch under his hand and says a silent prayer that Charles gets to bring his football kit home with him because he looks insane in it. Max had never truly realised before just how revealing a pair of baggy shorts could be. The photograph currently taking up all his attention is rather obscene, the outline of Charles’ cock is quite clearly visible, every last inch. It looks fucking huge, which makes sense because it is fucking huge. Long and thick and enough to make Max moan happily each time it pushes up inside him. 

As he keeps scrolling further he sees another snapshot of Charles swapping shirts with another player. It makes the Dutchman’s mouth fill with saliva, like some hungry animal who has just caught sight of their prey. Except Max would much rather be the prey and let Charles eat him all up.

“Oh fuck” Max feels like he is flip flopping through all the range of emotions as he suddenly gets all broody at the sight of Charles posing with babies. If he wasn’t sex starved then maybe that would be where the thought trail ended but he is suddenly overcome with a very overwhelming desire to have Charles try and breed him. Which, well its not going to happen but it wouldn’t stop Max letting Charles fuck him over and over under the pretence of trying to knock him up. 

The Dutchman’s muscles clench around the plug he has been wandering around the apartment wearing for the past two hours. He’s not against foreplay, he loves having Charles spend hours fingering him open or licking into him but he doesn’t intend on wasting a single second tonight. As soon as Charles gets through the door he is going have the Monegasque’s cock up inside him. 

“Max? You home?” 

Max throws his phone to the side the second he hears Charles’ voice. He doesn’t need to look at photos when the real thing is walking in the door

“Charles” Max squeals excitedly as he sees Charles drenched in sweat and still very much in his football kit. The Dutchman races over and smashes their lips together forcefully. 

“Babe you need to let me have a shower first”

“No” Max pouts, “I am all open, please just… I want you….” 

Charles chuckles but puts up zero fight as Max drags him through to the bedroom and starts ripping them both out of their clothes. 

“You look so hot on the pitch” Max moans as he rips Charles’ shorts and boxers down, “I am the slutty head cheerleader….. you are the slutty football captain” Max mumbles as he finally gets them both stripped down. 

“You going to cheer my name then?” Charles smirks 

“Of course” Max is grinning but glances back down at the clothes he has discarded to the floor and gets another idea, “I am going to put the socks on” 

Charles laughs because Max seems a little manic but it is absolutely not the worst idea the Dutchman has ever had. As it turns out, Max naked apart from a pair of knee high socks is quite the sight, especially when the Dutchman hops on top of Charles and immediately starts riding his cock. 

True to his word Max also makes sure to moan Charles’ name with extra enthusiasm as he rolls his hips back and forth at record speed.

“Grab my chest” Max takes hold of Charles’ hands and guides them over the fleshy part of his chest, “Squeeze… yeah that’s it….fuck Charles…. Fuck me” 

Charles bucks his hips up to try and meet Max’s movements but the Dutchman seems to be totally in control of the rhythm, bouncing up and down enthusiastically as he moans and pants and mumbles almost incoherently about how slutty he is and how much he needs it. 

The Monegasque drops one of his hands from Max’s chest to wrap around the Dutchman’s cock but Max bats him away, “Can come like this. Come from being fucked. Just ….” Max’s jaw is slack and his face is flushed and he’s almost as sweaty as Charles as he comes all of the Monegasque. 

“Come inside me Charles, Come inside me” Max is still moving up and down Charles’ dick as he whines at the oversensitivity of it all. Luckily it’s only seconds later that Charles does as he is told and comes inside his boyfriend. 

Max collapses down on to the bed and then immediately curls himself back around Charles, his arm landing in his own cum that is plastered all over Charles’ body. 

“Hopefully I don’t get pregnant or they won’t let me stay on the cheer team” Max mumbles as he laughs wildly to himself, “Missed you” 

“Missed you too” Charles hums quietly.

“Did you play well?” Max opens his eyes and looks up at Charles

“About as well as could be expected” Charles answers cryptically. He really doesn't want to spoil the mood by pointing out that of all the elements of Max’s fantasy the idea of himself being made captain is probably the least likely given he spent most of the match crumpled up in a heap on the floor before being substituted. 

Max doesn’t need to know that right now though. Not when he is still dressed in nothing but a pair of knee high socks and looks to be gearing up for round two already.

[cosmicourple]

Ah, hi, it’s me the anon who wants to write your time loop Ody. You can call me Voli to make things easier. Sorry, I’ve been trying to work out the ins and outs of the story and have been busy with other things too. I hope you’re doing well. I will be posting it on Ao3 if that’s alright and while I’m here I would like to ask a few questions since you are the creator of this au.

Without spoiling things, I have already outlined a plot line for the story and are currently arranging characters, seeing who fits and who needs to sit it out. Tiresias, Artemis, Dionysus, Hephaestus, Hestia and Demeter are the ones still out on debate. What I’m wondering is if there’s any character you feel is important to include to the story or should be better off just mentioned or briefly touched on out of the six? Apollo didn’t fall into this because of his gift of prophecy and he and Aphrodite have cut it very close. Aphrodite is there too due to her connection to Ouranos, though she’s unfortunately not gonna have a big role. That whole thing is still being workshopped so I might update on that later.

Another question is one I’ve honestly been struggling with and that’s concerning Rhea. Since she’s still around on Olympus, she does stand a chance against Kronos even when he’s not really there so if it’s alright, how should I tackle this so that the story doesn’t get cut short without discrediting her? I feel like Kronos will find a loophole around her but I’m not sure how so if you or anyone have any suggestions please let me know.

And that’s all I have to share. I apologise for the wait and it’s going to take some time to create the story but I’m working hard on it and I’ll let you know once it’s out. Thank you so much, have a good day/night.

Edit: I’m so, so, SO SORRY this took so long to answer, I’ve been feeling extremely burnt out for the past few days, & probably should’ve waited just a bit longer before asking 4 an update 🥲 I rlly don’t wanna pressure u, I swear 🫶🫶 (I should be thanking YOU 4 ur wonderful contribution to this insanity, & I am sending virtual support 4 ur motivation ☺️)

OMG HIIIII THERE VOLI!1!111!!! Good to get a ‘name’ 4 asks hehe <333

Okay, first, I’m gonna get this out the way by saying I am not confident (atleast, in my opinion) in my ability to do & / or help ‘plan out’(???) / structure fic related things, like for example character placement, plot points / lining (if that’s the word :/), keeping said characters as in character as they should be, etc :’)

I just get way to nervous about it all, so I’m afraid I may not give good advice / feedback on this hhgfffddfdd I can barely believe I’m getting a fanfic on my ideas :”) !!

haha srry about that lil’ self-beating rant, I just never expected to get here :’D

*dramatic sigh* anyway *w*,,,,,,,,,,,

#1: I don’t rlly wanna make a firm imput on who goes where, who’s more valuable than who, because after all, it’s YOUR story at the end of the day, thoooough, if I had to decide importance….

2nd edit: lol watch my suggestions degrade as I run out of juice 😋

-Demeter is. There. Unfortunately, I can’t rlly see anyway 4 her to be,,,, important, which is a shame in my head :(. Ig u could involve her when maybe suspicions of Kronos’s presence is confirmed n like- the Six Siblings maybe get together to discuss n worry ‘bout it, but apart from that, I unfortunately don’t have rlly much to give about her placement 🥲 (hey ho, acknowledgment is good enough 4 me <333 and maybe badass Demeter/joking).

-hmmm, right off the bat, my first thoughts were that Dionysus also felt unimportant. Which also sucks. idk I just can’t rlly see a way that would fit him in w/ the main,,, THING of the story smoothly, I mean, u got his whole reincarnation aspect + his connection w/ Humanity thru him once being Mortal, so maybe that’s something that could be brought up w/ Odysseus, seeing as reincarnation + Timeloop = kinda similar, but more on that Dionysus could have major sympathy 4 Ody’s’ insane suffering, understanding that a mere Human can’t be put through this sort of thing without lasting consequences bc of his own understanding of Humanity :D.

uhhhhhhh— idk, I think he would work better as a minor character u see Odysseus interact w/ during Loop Moments or maybe as a supporting character helping in the back during some big moments lol I’m not sure, there is probably something that could be done with him either way, who knows :) (Demeter could also work as these 2 things as well <D).

-now Hestia. I can see something. It’s only a lil’ bit more than the previous but I can see. Something. Idk like I said, I’m useless at this most of the time lmaooooo- but not much :’). Maybe comfort related things or maybe a notable place during some big moment idk I’m not sure 😭😭.

-Artemis n Hephaestus r tied w/ each other bc they could both very much have spotlight moments but at the same time, could both easily fade into the background most of the time. I have a clearer image of Artemis’s moment, obviously something 2 do w/ Apollo (bc her bro def has some idea of what’s going on, causing maybe a interaction like: “hey Apollo wtf is going on???????”), Hephaestus is unfortunately blurry, but there is an idea mostly just him being grumpy w/ this bullshit hajdhs <D.

-Tiresias in my mind, is quite important, despite Apollo already being there bc I like to think he’s one of the first to notice the Timeloops thanks 2 Prophecy Powers. But he’s also important in my head bc I have this stupid idea of, during one of the Loops, Ody’ kidnapping him from The Underworld & abandoning ship 2 run off & talk w/ them bc they know what’s going on with him + at that point Ody’ needed someone to properly vent to & also. Comedy :) that was such a shitty explanation why.

and as 4 the second question,,,,,

#2: Rhea. Oh Rhea. Mother of The Six Olympians, Former Queen of The Universe & Kronos’s Wife.

What a fun yet frustrating thing u are to try and tackle.

In my mind for the fifth time this post everytime Ody’ resets, the thing she resets to is sitting in one of the gardens, staring at a massive fractured, rusted & black stained mirror, one of the very few things from Kronos’s rule that stubbornly remains. It looks cursed, & in Rhea’s opinion, yes. Yes it is fucked up on some level. And he can talk to her through it,,,,,

I think Rhea somehow knows that the Timeloops r happening but doesn’t actually remember any of them. All she knows is that Her Husband is up to no good &,,,, she doesn’t rlly want to deal w/ it. She can’t persuade him to stop, she can’t even physically stop him. He’s a ghost, floating invisibly through the air, watching their shattered reality & his champion grow, yet by some cruel joke, only Rhea can constantly see his glitching & writhing form, like oil mixed w/ electricity blobbing around, appearing on that unnerving mirror, grumbling about Olympus & their children’s terrible rule & bla bla bla bla—

Yeah, so her decision to not help is very, very selfish. Uncharacteristic. But she’s so tired. She just can’t bring herself to care about whatever nonsense Kronos is causing.

(On the other side, Kronos likes talking to her, it’s. Nice :). Even if she won’t listen to what he’s trying to get at. It’s annoying, but, at least they can converse. Lol, these two r so fucked in situation yet so funny to think about idk <333)

…

aaaaand, that’s all I have to add rn mwahaha. I hope this has been good enough feedback on ur fic & I hope you’re enjoying writing it <DD.

Again, I am ecstatic to see someone wanting to write using my weird ideas HTGJKIYEQDGVFGFRFGGR tho pls, pls, PLEASE—

don’t push urself if it gets to much or if u want a break.

don’t feel pressured into thinking u have to write / publish this 4 me or 4 anyone else. It’s ur creation, u can do or don’t do whatever u want.

and DON’T think that u have to follow my ideas. Trust me, the scenarios n shit in my head are as blended as this A.U’s title suggests. The fic might be inspired by my ideas, but it doesn’t have to follow them 🫶.

anyway, you to have a good day / night & Happy Holidays🎄✨✨✨✨✨🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hellloo! I was thinking abt sith, as one does, and I was wondering what was the reunion with Hadrian and Y/N like? If I rmber correctly, I think I saw smt where it was said to be strained, and awkward? Was there some tension between Colt and Hadrian specifically when they finally, actually, met? What were all of their reactions? Does Hadrian pick up on colts feelings for y/n?

(I’m srry if you alrd answered a question similar to this 😣)

hii!! no worries idt anyone has asked this before HAHAH i had to go back in the outline to see when it happens but i think yes the reunion was definitely just…weird. because hadrian is smart enough to realize that she has suffered a LOT since they last met so despite everything she did i don’t know that he’d wish further harm on her (i think in his mind she’s paid the price) and at that point she (having the jaw titan) is one of the only chances that the entire world has left KFDKDJ but at the same time she directly led to the death of his sister and the defeat of his entire country so seeing her is very weird for him as well because how do you reconcile the girl you peeled pomegranates for with the girl who your country’s newspapers call a monster?? i think he probably on some level separated the two in his mind so being confronted with her in full warrior mode was definitely a shock if that makes sense…meanwhile y/n has been haunted by him for literal years so for her it’s crazy because not only is she a titan now, not only is the world going to end, but the personification of her ptsd is standing right in front of her, and to make things worse, he doesn’t even hate her like she thought he would.

i don’t even know if colt would realize who hadrian is and what he means to y/n tbh 😭 from what i remember she doesn’t really talk about athyae much if at all with anyone and only friedrich really knew who they were/how important they were to y/n. colt met xanthe once for like 5 seconds but that would’ve been many years ago atp and he’s also not the most observant so i doubt he’d notice any family resemblance there 😔 plus y/n never told ANYONE (even friedrich) that she let hadrian and his parents live so yeah i do think colt wouldn’t pick up on it for a while especially because they’re so busy thinking about the impending destruction of humanity (falco is still in liberio because y/n took his and gabi’s place so colt is very freaked out about that)

yeah i think by that point colt isn’t even trying to hide how much he loves her so it’s like VERY obvious to literally everyone LMAOAO i believe i mentioned in my outline that there was tension between him hadrian and y/n but it was less romantic and more of the “our past actions are catching up to us now” variety!!

[shinosucksatosu]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PALE

[elysian-i]

Crybaby

Summary: Reader cries because of lack of attention and Draco finally gives in to comfort her.

Warnings: Smut. Draco is just big and strong lol. Innocence & hand kink. Fingering. Dom!Draco. Crybaby!Reader. This is super short and a little rushed, srry :(

a/n: hi i am back after 20 days, i got some of the inspiration to write this after listening to crybaby, so everyone go stream it. enjoy :p

NAVIGATION

————

There was that pout, and your fists— curled— and eyes teary, and your throat dry.

It had to have been an infinite amount of times you’d called for him, but he’d shake his head, swipe his eyes over you for a mere moment, and return to whatever activities he was doing.

Now there was that cry caught in your mouth— and you were pressing your lips together into that hard flat line to contain your sobs— but they fell through your efforts— and that immediately got his attention.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He sounded worried, but it felt like a joke to you, you didn’t look back at him or answer him as he stood up from his seat and went to grab you.

You hated being a crybaby, but in all honesty, you were right to be in this position right now. He’d payed no mind to you, shoved you aside, all until you were crying, and wiping away your tears yourself, despite his being present.

“Love. Love. I’m here, can y’look at me?” His voice was gentle— apologetic— as he bent down, settled his legs on the couch, and sat you up to straddle him.

Draco’s hand rested behind your head, patting you softly and pulling you into his chest, kissing your forearms, and whispering into your skin. “Darling, m’sorry, I swear I was just joking”

Your sobs didn’t falter as you spoke softly, “Am I annoying you?” You said, still covering your face.

“No! Not at all, I was playing around, I’m so sorry for ignoring my love.”

His hand put away yours from your face, intently staring at you, and giving you a warm smile. Draco wiped away your tears using his sleeves, guilt bubbling in him as he cleaned the tears he’d formed, “I’m sorry” He repeated, resting his head against yours, “Can you please forgive me? I’ll do anything”

You giggled lightly, and nodded, “I forgive you”

“Good girl. Now, what do you want?”

You sniffled, fumbling with his tie nervously, “I jus’ needed you— to take care of me however”

From the stuttering syllables, and shy behaviours, he picked up where you exactly needed him.

He chuckled into your hair, giving both your eyelids a kiss as his big hands held your waist and he picked you up with ease.

You aligned your lips with his, and his kissed him ravenously as he stalked towards his bed and put you down on it. His lips were like clouds that felt like they’d been danced on by angels.

Draco pressed his tongue inside you, swiping it over yours, and teasing your lips with his teeth, and then as you just got indulged in it. He pulled away and left you wanting again.

At your expression, he laughed and gave you back a small peck.

His hands pulled up his your hoodie to reveal your soft tummy and your navy blue underwear.

“Pretty” he muttered, and he rested his soft lips on your neck, and ran a finger through the outline of your slit, gently tracing your folds and feeling the slight dampness of it.

“Is this what you need taken care of?” Draco said, cupping your cunt, and staring into your wide eyes.

“Y—yeah” You meekly said as he smirked and part your legs further.

His heavy hand rubbed you over your panties, putting pressure on your clit and he made circles around it. Your gasps going up as his movements got more and more intense.

You fingers went up to grab his silver strands of hair. Pulling at them as he pulled your knickers down your legs, and threw them on the floor. Staring at your pussy hungrily.

Your cheeks burned in shame. He bent down to give your core a little kiss— inhaling your scent as he did so— and then coming back up to your face.

“Draco” You softly gasped as he pulled apart your lips with his fingers, and revealed the pretty flesh.

He shut you up with his lips, kissing you hard as his hand worked over your pussy to give you the best orgasm possible.

As he were kissing you, you felt his hand slip between the two of you, and pulled away from him to look down and there you found his pulling off his silver rings— very much to your dismay.

He stared at you confusingly as you quickly reached down and removed his hands from one another.

“What—?” He asked, pinching his brows.

“I want you too keep them on. Please?”

Fuck. He’d sell his entire estate, his soul, if you ever asked him like that— or in any other way really. He was as dedicated as an angel was to be.

“Right, of course I will”

Then without any wait, or hesitancy, his fingers shoved inside, and immediately curled to find that euphoric spot.

You squealed, and creamed around his fingers as they scissored inside of you, opening you up for when he’d give you the bigger reward.

His held your hips in place as he started to thrust his digit faster. Those rings which you’d asked him too keep provided that extra pleasure which you’d expected.

They were cool around your entrance and inside of you, burning through you, as he expertly worked his hand.

As his thumb fell over your clit, your thighs jolted, and your hand went down to grab his.

Tears brimmed your eyes again, and they filled the path of the previously dried up tears.

Draco looked down at you so so lovingly, that the black avid iris of his eyes might as well have been painted with with outlines of hearts. He had literal heart eyes sparking in him for you.

“Why are you still crying baby?” He smiled, increasing the pace of his hand. “I’m giving you attention now, aren’t I?”

“Just, fe—feel— too goood” You whimpered, curling your hands around his tie, and bucking your hips into his hand.

The coil in your belly spread warmer, and your thighs shook hard around his arms, by that, he knew that you were close to your much needed orgasm.

His fingers pumped into your pussy more, and he used his other hand to rub circles on that sensitive cluster of nerves, when his lips crashed on yours— you only saw and felt cosmos.

Crying out against his mouth, you reached your climax and came on his fingers hard. Riding his palm as you reached the end. Panting and trying to catch your breath as he stared at you mesmerized.

“Atta girl” He praised, pulling his fingers out from your cunt and putting them into his mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste of you as you shyly smiled up at him.

“M’sorry— for crying”

“S’okay, I love my crybaby”

————

follow @spilled-inks to be notified of my works

[spikesbimbo]

Soft sex pt.1   pt.2

-MSBY

Tags: cuddle fucking,cockwarming, morning sex, big dick!meian, bath sex, makeup sex, praise kink, hurt/comfort, pussy job

a/n: vanilla is not something to be ashamed of, its way more common than you think, you don't need to be doing kamasutra every night to keep the spark. none of that daddy shit in this. Srry : /

i also don't proofread, i h8 reading works right after i finish them, so let me know if anything's wrong.

NO KINKY FREAKY ASS SHIT 

**ONLY SOFT SEX BEYOND THIS POINT**

18+ Minors DNI

-Hinata

….Morning... sex. mmhmm

He could usually control his morning wood

But after being gone for so many days, finally coming home to see you, it was impossible

You woke up after you heard a few groans, feeling him rut into your back, turning over to see his face flushed and cheeks red, whether it be from getting caught or his activities 

So you decide to help him as a good s/o should

But you're also tired… 

So you just pull your pants off and tell him to go at it, not too rough because you had to work in the afternoon.

-

“Baby, you okay?” you faintly asked, turning around, eyes trying to open after hearing him make some noises. You hated when people disturbed your sleep, which you oh so loved, but your boyfriend was an exception, sometimes.

But what you didn't expect when you opened your eyes was catching him, red faced, with his hand in his boxers trying to make it stop. Looking like he was in a lot of pain, so your quick mind got on it, not wanting to see his face in any more discomfort.

“Here” you said, shuffling your back into him while pulling down your panties, setting your ass on his bulge, grinding a little to get him to hurry up. Knowing this was the only way you could take care of him.

“You sure?” he asked already putting his cock into you being needy as ever, which indeed you thought was cute in way but him stretching you out made you respond by pushing yourself even more against him, bottoming out which both of you let out some moans and curses, softly saying them as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you a minute before he started moving.

“S-shoyo”  you quietly gasped, holding onto the pillow as he pushed himself into you trying to close your eyes and relax, slowly but restlessly, getting deeper in you with every thrust. Leaning back into him his arm now moving around your chest, angling himself to where it felt good. 

His thrusts felt agonizingly slow, teasing almost, as he shoved his face into your shoulder, groaning how good you felt. “fuck, baby m’gonna cum.” he whined out. The pressure in his hips getting stronger with you clenching around him.

‘s’okay, hurry up and cum baby” you cooed, feeling him grow in you, wanting him to feel good, moving your hips back to catch his. “fuck-k” he finished, the warmness spreading into you, some dripping out onto your legs, slipping on the bed.

“You good now?” you giggled after some time, him finally sporting a smile instead of a frown. “thank you...” he shyly muttered out, turning you around to face him, wanting to see your pretty face.

“Can u wake me up at 3?” you asked, giving yourself another hour to get clean. Already being put back because you had to come in earlier today.

“Yeah cutie.” he said, putting it on his phone, you too worn out to do anything but stay still, now facing him while he snuggled into your chest, his head right under yours, finally getting the rest you deserved.

-Atsumu

You were a sensitive little thing, loving how rough and needy he got with you.

But sometimes you needed a break, it hurting too much leaving you sore.

But you're also a fiend for him okay?

who wouldn't be?

Jumping on him every hour of the day.

So you go and straight up, atleast try to, tell him that you want him to be easier with you.

But you were also embarrassed of it, being so needy for him, also not wanting his ego to get any higher than it was,  due to you basically you telling him you needed him everyday.

And he's like ok!! on it (¬‿¬)

-

“What wrong pretty girl, hmmm?” he asked, pulling your waist closer to him, dragging his hand on your upper thigh, fingers finding the outline of you panties under that skirt you were wearing. Him wondering why you looked so distraught just walking up to him.

“Tsumie” you said ignoring his question, bringing up your own, trying your best to get it out only for it to get caught in your throat.

“Hmm?” he responded turning all his attention on you, his gaze making you even more nervous.

“I- um... was just wondering if you could- ya know....bealittlemoregentlenexttime?” you said, muttering the last part out, hoping he understood and wouldn't inquire any further. 

He paused for a minute, taking in what you just said, glad that you were comfortable enough to express your thoughts around him, pulling you closer until his face was to your chest, looking up at you with his eyes glistening due to the reflection of the lamp in them. “Right now princess?” he smirked much softer than he usually did.

“Here baby. You're gonna come with me, and i'm gonna take good care of you...real good care of you.” he said, playful traces underlying his words, getting up from his chair while picking you up with him, hands under your thighs already causing a problem. Yes you loved dom, rough atsumu but when he was sweet and gentle, that was a whole nother story, as you could prove right now.

He gently laid you on the bed, taking all your clothes off, kissing all over you until you were wet enough, before attempting to “test” you with his fingers. To which you whined in protest, wanting him in you right now, wanting to feel his warmth inside and out of you.

He positioned himself on top of you, listening to whatever you wanted, fully settling himself inside after sometime, giving you time to adjust to him. He started moving his hips back and forth, his view of you beneath him being picture perfect, as you could say them the same before leaning down into you, muttering words of praise and affection in your ears. The only sound you responded with was moans and cries, but the look in your eyes, the look of want and need, the baseline for love, told him what he wanted to hear, but it wasn't enough.

“Thank you for putting up with me, you know i love you, huh? tell me baby.” he said not rushing you wanting you to feel at ease with him “Tell me you know i love you” he finished, desperate undertones in his words, looking at you with those big sweet eyes.

“I-i know you... love- me.” you choked out, his soft thrusts still hitting you deep, knocking on your cervix, but it felt so good; being in eachothers arms,  hitting all the right spots, his breath in your face entangling with yours, feeling more connected than ever. Before you knew it the two of you had finished more than once, now resting in eachothers arms, a 

“You feel good baby? He asked, an airy smile plastered on his face, you trying to do the same moving closer to him so he could hear you, arms still wrapped around each other.

“yeah.”

 -Kiyoomi

You loved him so much, even when he was a meanie

And he did the same, internally grateful that he was lucky enough to get someone as sweet as you.

Which is why he was making up for the argument he started earlier today.

Not meaning anything he said, just stressed and taking it out on you : ( not knowing how to apologize with words.

So he does what he knows you love, but you never ask him bc you don't want to bother him. 

You loved him touching you and vice versa, but you respected his wishes and only did it when you two were alone, even holding back in private too, not wanting to bother him.

So he gives you want you want, a physical form of an apology, another way to express his feelings. 

-

“shh..” he tenderly mumbled into your ear, the one he’d been kissing on for the past few minutes, the sloppiness of it that you loved. Your chest to his back, being completely nude with your legs spread open, one of his hands pinching your nipple while grabbing the rest of the flesh around it.

The sweat and tears adoring your face, masked in pleasure, trying your best to look up at him only to receive a kiss on the head.  

“Yoomi~”  you sofly cried, clinging on your hands back onto the fabric of his shirt, the one that he got back from his press conference in, the one that he came back in a bad mood, immediately taking it out on you.

His thumb played with your clit, two of his long fingers sliding in as well, leaving you more of a mess then you were already in, his voice accompanied, encouraging you to. He curled his fingers into you, not roughly but hard enough to make you feel it. Your other hand shakily grabbing onto the arm he was blessing you with.

You were such a sweetheart for him, an angel he thought. As soon as you walked in the room he could swear he saw a halo around your head, looking at you long enough to where he could bask in your beauty, but short enough to where you couldn't tell.

Sometimes he felt like he didn't deserve you, being such a bad boyfriend that can't attend to your “needs”, feeling like a dead weight on you. But the way you followed him around like a lost puppy, expressing your love for him in ways you knew he would like reassured him that you were the one.

“-omi” you moaned, legs now shaking, holding them in place with his arm, his fingers working faster while his hand was still cupping your breast squeezing it every once in a while.

“Come for me love.” he warmly mumbled into your ear, taking a break from kissing down your neck, his marks accompanying the glistening of your skin, being the prettiest sight in his eyes. You freezed up in his arms, finally letting go of his shirt, your head rolling back as far as it could. You ultimately getting the both of you dirty, your cum being now a puddle beneath you two, not having the energy to fret about it.

He lets you rest in his arms after your high, lightly resting his head on top of yours, giving it another kiss, gently holding you leaning into you before whispering a faint “Im sorry.”

-Bokuto

This is regular occurrence for you two

Yes, he fucks the shit out of you, but lovingly < 3

You two always express your love for each other through touch, being intimate leaves to you in a daze.

But after he wins a game and sees you in the crowd so excited, a big smile appears on his face, feeling grateful to have you in his life.

He shows you how much he appreciates you

-

“i love you....so much” he said, dragging your clothes off, eyes following you like a needy puppy, his shirt hanging on by one of his arms still in it, the rest of him naked. 

You could only giggle in response, taking off the bra yourself, seeing that he was trying his hardest too, not wanting to take any longer. “Ko, baby what about you?” you said referring to his state letting out another laugh. His hair even more messed up from taking off his hoodie faster than  you've ever seen, looking like a little kid trying to dress themselves.

“baby.” you murmur, your hands landing on the sides of his face, into your space, trying to bring him back to reality for a second. “I'm always gonna be here, always... so you can take your time” you finished, seeing he finally took your suggestion as he stood up.

He took off his shirt, now being fully naked for your eyes to admire. But before you could let your hands touch his chest he grabbed them, softly pulling you into his lap, wrapping his big arms around you while letting his head rest on your shoulder.

You got the hint and relaxed as he lined himself up with you, moving his head so that he could see before pushing himself inside trying to hold back his eagerness. “feel good?” he asked thrusting in you a little, the blush covering his cheeks as he held your body closer. 

“yeah...feels so good.” you faintly whined out. “...only you could make me feel this way” 

His big frame melted into yours as he started moving, your words being music to his ears, his slow strokes making you feel his need. You leaned your head on his shoulder too, slightly moving your hips with his, wanting to feel him even deeper.

His hands moved to your ass and the top of your back, gripping them firmly against his soft movements, letting out moans as he felt you clench around him, the soft flesh being the only thing  keeping him grounded. 

“F-fuck baby” he started before you cut him off with a “shh, you can cum.” trying your best to seem stable with the way he was fucking you, bouncing on him, hitting those seep spots over and over.

You felt him release, the wetness dripping down your thighs falling onto his, hearing a few curses and moans along with it, giving you puppy dogs eyes asking if you'd let him fuck you again, and of course you couldn't say no.

He kept you in this position for the rest of the night so he could hear all the words of affection, the praise you said he deserved, moaned into his ear. The scratch marks and bruises being the only physical trace left, reminding him of the love you two shared.

“You did great bo.” you said with a smile, sitting in his lap, eyes fluttering as you feel asleep along with him. His grip on you was still tight, kissing you on the forehead, his way of letting you know how much he loved you.

-Meian

Date night yayyyy

Anyways, he’s admiring how beautiful you are, thanking the gods for giving you to him

And he wants to show you how much he worships the ground you walk on, taking it nice and slow, as usual, but this time it would stay like that.

Even if he tries to be gentle with you its still gonna hurt for a min.

Poor baby :’ (

But its okay cause he’ll dote on you and coo in your ear of how good of a girl you are for taking him. :  )

-

“Please, meian.'' you whined, grabbing onto his chest, sweaty skin linking you two together, thighs connected to his hips. Rubbing your bare self on his length, the lace panties you had on being long gone, tossed somewhere on the floor.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of you the whole night, the outfit you had on hugging you just right, the skin peeking out every so often, his hands wondering all over you to your obvious enjoyment; and on the ride home he couldn't keep his eyes off your lips. The gloss shining bright in the streetlights, your natural pout shaping your pretty little face, so innocent, reminding him of all the times you weren't.

“shhh... its okay, I got you angel. We can take it slow, okay?” he said already reading your mind, knowing how his pretty girl thinks, holding your weight making sure you didn't slide down him too fast.

He let you do whatever you wanted to your heart's content, it was always about you, he'd always go along with what you wanted, never doing anything you didn't. You wanting to ride him out of the blue, wanting to take it at your pace. He was more than happy to provide, you usually letting him do whatever he wanted to you, its only right that he returned the favor.

“You good doll?” he groaned, only the tip being in you right now, trying to accommodate his size, even though you were wet from him jumping on you the minute you walked through the door. His hungry eyes not leaving you once, picking you up while shoving his lips on your soft ones, hands raking through your clothes, his hands pulling them off till you only had your panties on.

“Ease up baby, look... “ he stated, his grip on your hips with his big warm hands making you melt into his touch, distracting you from your end goal. “m’sorry... im trying to go faster” you let out, a few tears following while you froze in place. Your mind racing with the thoughts of this not feeling good for him, only you, instant regret flooding your train of thought.

“No, no, no angel,” he started worriedly, wanting to take care of you as he should, leaning up against the bed frame now being face to face with you. “its all about you okay? don't worry doll it feels good for me too, I'm not as impatient as i seem” he said, a slight laugh accompanying him trying to lighten the mood.

“here, lemme move all the way inside you, then you can do whatever you want alright.” he somewhat asked. You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as his hands and hips moved, slowly filling you up, now trembling in his grasp. The stretch making you whine, feeling his balls against your ass, already rutting into him letting out a few moans while he leaned back, thinking you were the most precious thing he's ever seen, a slight smirk now on his face.

“Alright angel, im all yours now.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[nashishishi]

hihihihi so i've decided to rewrite my wxs as n25 fic!! i didn't have any sort of outline or whatever and i didn't even properly decide what changes to their personalities i wanted them to have, so i thought it was kind of lackluster because of it. i wanted to rewrite them to be more noticeably different from canon wxs, at least in their actions. however, i know that a lot of you guys really liked the original! so i'm not gonna take that one down or anything :) furthermore, for the sake of time (and my sanity), most of the events that took place in the original are still going to happen in the rewrite. it's also going to be written in the same format as the original because i still can't actually write lmao. i am planning on making the rewrite more open-ended though because i might also make fake event stories.

not sure when i'm gonna finish rewriting it, but i hope you stay tuned to see it?? i'm gonna be posting my progress on it as much as i can, but i also don't wanna spoil anything for those who haven't read the original yk. so since i'll be busy working on the rewrite i might post even less than i do now. srry ,,

[internetgremlin-writes]

updates of obvious?? SRRY I DON'T WANNA BE BORING WITH IT BUT I JUST MISS THEM SM is the last time i ask about them ok i promise u 🤞🤞 i know it takes a good time to write it sorry 😭😭

She is coming at some point I promise, as I've said before there is a full 10 part outline so I won't be running out of ideas and abandoning her don't panic!

ALSO NO DON'T APOLOGISE STUFF LIKE THIS IS SO MOTIVATING

Obvious is a weird one because although I have an outline and full plan for it, I find the chapters quite challenging (in a good way) to put together and I often find myself needing a break between writing them. I think it's because there is smut in every part that presenting it in a way that's different and engaging whilst also keeping in character with the people I've developed throughout the fic is something new and I'm having to work hard to find creative ways to do it

I will be honest and say I've not actually started part 5 yet. To be completely transparent, part 4 really hasn't done that well compared to 1, 2 and 3 which has been quite disappointing and with my F1 work taking off shortly after it's been easier and more rewarding to focus on that.

But I am still in love with Obvious and the guys like you who still are such big fans of it and I wanna finish it (maybe this year??) so my plan is to do Flat Spin Chapter 5 then Obvious Part 5 shortly after

<3<3

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

Can I have a sub!kai fic where he annoyed the reader Thx

Uhmmmm yeth👹

Rules

pairing : vamp!reader x sub!kaiparker

Warning : language, smut, penetrative sex, oral (masc & fem), face riding, orgasm denial (m.), bondage, Kai stubble, dirty talk, 69ing,

Requested ;)

Word Count : a little over 3k

A/N :

I had wayyyy too much fun with this one. I’m not really used to writing sub!kai so I had this one was good enough for you<3 (also I’m sorry it literally took FOREVER) also, there’s is little to no plot, srry

He groaned as the ropes rubbed harshly against his skin. His wrist red and irritated as he pulled to feel the tiniest bit of relief that he wasn’t getting.

“It’s only going to hurt more with every pull, Malachi.” You hummed, a sadistic smirk finding its way to your lips as you watched him struggle.

That’s what you were.

A sadist.

You enjoyed watched him like this. Helpless, vulnerable, borderline pathetic. A shiny layer of sweat coating his forehead, and disgustingly dirty thoughts of you on top of him filling his mind. You were truly one evil bitch. How could you do this to him? Strip him of his dominance, just to prove a point. It was oh so fucking hot, but torture not being the one on the other side of these ropes.

“You do realize that once I’m out of these ropes the rest of the night is going to be absolute hell for you... right?” He cleared his throat. He was just itching to inflict some type of fear in you, but in his current state he was making much progress.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him. You’ve never done all this before, but you had a plan for exactly how you wanted it to go. Kai was a dick. He has been one all fucking week. Lately he’s been treating you like precious cargo. Not letting you do anything on your own, not even a shower without him sneaking in. At first it was somewhat sweet sentiments, like ordering your favorites at the grill, then driving you around town to handle errands. Slowly that sweetness faded into him making every decision for you. Not letting you speak for yourself, and finding ways to punish you for speaking out against him. Putting silencing spells on you if he didn’t feel like hearing you rebuttals, and just yesterday he put you into a deep sleep for a few hours so he could ‘have a few moments of peace’.

He was dictating your life.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of these ropes tonight?” You hum.

You watched as he swallowed down the air bubble caught in his throat.

You were set on proving a point. He wasn’t the boss of you in any way shape or form. Not in public, not in private, and he definitely did not have you wrapped around his finger like he was your pimp or some shit. In fact, the whole point of tonight was to make him see that it was quite the opposite.

“Because we both know I can satisfy you way more if I’m untied. Just untie me and I can make you feel good, y/n/n.” He smiled, thinking that you would give into his offer. Instead of actually untying him you just let out the most seductively cynical laugh ever, causing his body to tense under yours.

“We’ll see...” you smirked, lifting your hips from his crotch as you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his collar bone. “Now should we go over the rules or do you have more empty threats to make?”

"Rules?" He nearly laughed in your face.

“Tonight is all on my terms... you will do whatever I want you to do.” You relied, ignoring his failed attempts at taking you seriously. “First rule, not touching. But that shouldn’t be much of a problem, huh?” You smirked, watching his eyes roll. “Second rule, you will ask for everything...” suddenly his smile dropped, and he was so amused by the situation anymore. “You want me to touch you? You ask. You want a kiss? You ask. And if you want to cum... you better beg as if your life fucking depended on it.” You nearly giggled feeling the way he giggled under you.

“Y/n-”

“You will not cum unless I say that you can.” He took in a sharp breath. “Not too bad right? You can be a good boy for me, just for the night, right?” You pouted mockingly, looking deeply into his eyes dark with lust.

“Are the uhm... ropes necessary?” He asked, voice an octave higher than usual.

“No.” You sighed. “But you look so fucking hot all tied up like a doll.” You hummed, finger tracing the vein bulging from from his neck. “So pretty. So perfect.”

“T-that’s usually my line.”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Your hips grinding down into his, earning a low groan from his throat.

He remained silent, putting a soft smirk on your lips. Your hands traced down his chest, oh so lightly, scooting down his body until you’re hands ghosted lightly over the bulge in his boxers. He felt the heat of your fingers over him. He decided to take advantage of the fact that his legs weren’t bound by anything to push his hips up into the air for some relief. Unfortunately for him, you could read him like a book. Your hand moved away from him before he could even move, resulting in a disappointing action that caused a tiny whine to leave his lips.

“Y/N!” He groaned, head falling back as he tugged at the ropes keeping his bound. You smiled at his frustration, he was in for a long night.

“You didn’t ask.” You shrugged as if you did nothing wrong. Hand placed on his lower stomach, fingers tracing through the outline of his abs.

“Touch me. Please.” He grumbled, not too happy with his position. He was usually the one having you bed for any sort of touch from him. This was all different kinds of unnatural.

   "I am touching you, you're going to have to be more specific than that, Princess." You smiled, voice sweet, but the words coming from you mouth made him want to murder you.

“Aw, but I am touching you. You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Princess.” You teased, voice sweet and condescending. He lifted his head just to glare at you for the nickname. You lifted an eyebrow, challenging him to speak out of turn but he decided to play nicely.

  "I want you to-" he wanted a lot of things.

“I want... I want you to-” he wanted a lot of things right now actually. He didn’t want to give into you no matter how badly he wanted you. His mind fighting against your sudden rebellion while his body ached to be under your control. There was a way to get what he wanted. He just had to show you that he still had control over you, even in restraints. “I want to taste you.” He blurted, a sharp breathing entering your lungs for a moment. You automatically knew what he was doing, and how he must’ve thought that this was so smart of him. “I-I want you to sit on my face...” he spoke, ideas running through his mind at 100 miles per hours. “And I want you to suck my dick too.” Your whole body tingled with excitement at the request.

“What’s the magic word?” You asked, eyebrow raising at the devilish smile beneath you.

“Please, oh please.” He played along. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before you were untying him, and begging for him to fuck you until it was difficult to function properly. He stuck out his bottom lip to ass to the effect.

You scanned the mischief on his face before do anything. Slowly you moved off of him until you were standing on your bedroom floor, his eyes following you closely. In the position he was now he just seemed so vulnerable, and perfect. Just like you had mentioned before. You could see how rock hard he was through his boxers, and how his abs tightened even when you weren’t on him just proved how badly he wanted to be touched by you. You didn’t think he realized but his hips were slightly bucking into the air, trying to find something, anything, but it wasn’t working out too well for him.

You slid your panties down your legs, letting them rest on the bedroom floor. You stepped out of the fabric, walked back over to the bed. Kai watching intently as your fingers traced down his chest, your beautiful being so close yet far at the same time.

“Can you kiss me? Please?” He spoke, a genuine request. Your eyes slowly trailed up to his, not detecting any hidden intentions besides just wanting you lips on his. You were fine giving him what he wanted, but that wouldn’t be fun if you gave into ever request. He’s be a total dick to you all week, so you denying him just one simple pleasure was totally fine with you.

You brought you’re face to hover over his, hand moving up to the soft skin of his cheek. The soft yet prickly hairs of the beard he was growing out tickling your aura. You’re lips barely grazing against his, allowing him to relish in the closeness for a moment before pulling away.

“There are much more productive things you could be doing with that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” You grinned, watching his jaw fall in amazement as you climb back onto the bed. You maneuvered yourself carefully, making sure both of your legs were positioned on either side of his head.

His view of your face was gone, nothing but you glistening pussy waiting for him to give into you. You could feel the warmth of his breath hitting on your already heated core. You lowered you’re body down slowly, just until you felt his warmth barely touching you. You leaned over, hands tracing slowly down his abdomen, slowly reaching under his boxer band, listening to his breathing change as your fingers wrapped around him.

He pulled against the ropes, hoping to gain even just a little bit of leeway. His eyes rolled at the light laugh you gave under your breath, realizing you really weren’t going to let him free. He just had his plan to hope will work. He didn’t have to move too much before his tongue was flattening against your folds, licking a single bold stripe against you. A soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth began to move against you, you’re hand slowly pumping him as he took over you mind for a brief moment in time. For some reason, though he hadn’t to admit it, being bound right now felt surprisingly good. The idea of being at your mercy as his tongue worked against you... just did something to him that he couldn’t explain. His eyes closed as he focused on solely pleasuring you before he became a bit distracted. You soft lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, collecting his precum on your tongue. His jaw fell open at the relief, letting out a soft moan.

His tongue worked into you, lapping up and sucking down all of your sweet juices. His facial hairs tickling the insides of your thighs as he ate you out. You made sure to make the most of this moment. You wanted to drive him crazy, by giving him everything and nothing at the same time. Your tongue flattening against his shaft as you took him in your mouth. In his mind he was debating on just siphoning some of your magic to get out of the ropes so he could handle you... properly. Though he quite enjoyed the way your hips were rocking against his mouth as you tried your best to contain yourself.

“Faster,” he groaned, tearing his mouth away from you. “Please- god, I need faster.” He begged, in a voice that sounded way too needy for his own liking. Which basically meant he sounded perfect for you. You hummed, sending vibrations through him before taking your mouth from around him with a pop. You pumped him in your hand a few times before sitting up above him. His lips connecting to you once again earning a gasp and moan that you weren’t prepared to release. Kai always knew how to work wonders one you. He was most proud of how submissive you would be for him in the late hours of the night. He knew how to work you up, and push all the right buttons and he always made sure that no matter what happens he made you cum.

Just another joy you got to swipe away.

You lifted you hips too far for him to reach, listening to him whine form the loss of your taste. You maneuvered yourself around his body again until you were straddling his lap. His stubble covered chin glistening with you juices, watching his chest rise and fall with heavy breathing. You bent down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, being sure to make sure he knew you just were getting a taste of yourself.

“You should grow out the beard, it would be so fucking hot.” You smiled, his throat let out a needy whimper as he tugged again at the ropes keeping him bound.

“y/n- please, m’gonna explode.” He groaned, causing your wicked smile to widen.

“sorry, what? I didn’t hear that.” You hummed, turning your head so he would speak right into your ear.

“y/n.” He whined loudly, hips bucking into yours harshly. You hands moved down to his hips, holding them down before he could try again. He was right where you wanted him. Needy, pathetic, and easy to break. “I need you, so so bad, please.” He groaned, tugging at the ropes again, pure frustration and sexual tension taking over him.

“You need me?” You asked, trying to sound confused, hands moving further down his body until your fingers were tracing the base of his cock. “Like... right here?” You cocked your head to the side, watching as his jaw clenched. His eyes locked on your face, watching you find him amusing enough to smile. He would never in his life admit this out loud, but he definitely enjoyed this. He was aching right your your hand, just like how you wanted him.

“I w-wanna feel you.” He breathed.

“You want me to fuck myself on your dick?” You dipped your head down, placing you lips right below his jawline, pressing a series of light pecks along his neck.

“Please- fuck, please baby.” He whined again.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft once again, pumping him slowly in your hand. His mouth fell open at the friction again. Your hand sped up in its action as you watched his eyes close for a brief moment in pleasure. If this is what having total control felt like... being able to see the person you love most revel in the feeling of just you and only you... you could understand why it was so addicting to him.

Doesn’t mean you weren’t still annoyed with him.

In his mind flashed pornographic pictures of you echoes of your moans on repeat in his mind, along with the sensations of your fingers coursing along his skin. You always held the power to make him fall apart at your finger tips, he just never let you see that.

“Aw, you like this don’t you?” You hummed, poking out lips at the soft moans you were earning as you jerked him off.

“Please let me feel you.” He asked again, aching to feel your heated walls wrapped around him.

“You think you deserve to feel me?” You sigh, handing tightening around him as your pace quickened earning an audible reaction. “You make such pretty noises, you know.” You hummed, leaning over him a bit. His tip barely brushing against you stomach as you watching him glide closely to the edge. “Are you close baby?”

“Y-yes, god, I’m so close.” He groaned out, hands turning to grip the comforter to relieve some pressure.

You watched his eyes squeeze tighter together, and his muscles everywhere tense. A light layer of sweat forming over his chest as he body produce a heat that was lethal. Throaty moans escaped him, and your body heat so close to him was only bringing him closer to his euphoric release.

Or what would’ve been if you hadn’t stopped.

“Y/N-” he whined, tugging at the ropes a little extra hard with frustration.

“I didn’t say you could cum, did I?” You responded to his childish whine.

Your lips curved up into a devilish smile that has him weak in the knees. You hand squeezing the base of his cock once again before you lifted yourself on your knees above him. His tip gliding along your folds slick with his saliva and your own arousal. His mouth feel open, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your dragging him along your heat.

“Wanna be in you, babe.” He groaned, “please, lemme feel you.”

You hum, moving you hand away from him breaking the intimate contact between the two of you. Both of your hands reached the his, grabbing the ropes keeping him bound before breaking each one. His hands immediately try to go to you, but you catch them before they can manage to.

“No touching rule is still in effect, Malachi.” You grin.

“Then why untie me?” He pouted.

“I love to see you squirm.” You commented with a light shrugged, leaning over as you placed his hands over his head. Your nose barely brushing past each other. “If you touch me and without permission we’ll stop, got it?”

“You’re so evil.” He whined, head lifting up to bring your lips closer together.

“Wonder who I get it from.” You smiled, finally pressing your lips together bringing sinking down on his cock that’s been waiting for you all night. He let out a breathy moan into the kiss, your hips lifting back up before falling again. Air slowly leaving your lungs as you let out a breathy moan into his lips. Kai’s hands gripping onto the comforter once again for dear life.

You kept up a steady place, bouncing on top of him, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your lips tore away from each other’s as you tried picking up pace, watching Kai’s face twist as he watched you use him for you’re own satisfaction. You noticed the tired euphoric look on his face on how he was already beginning to twitch inside of you. Your walls clenching around him, making him go ballistic as you fuck your self on him.

“I-I’m go-nna-” he moaned, trying to make coherent sentences through the ecstasy. “Can I please-”

“No, not yet.” You spoke clearly, pace not altering. “Look at me.” You demanded notices how his eyes fluttered shut every few seconds. He tried to keep his eyes open for you, staring you dead in your pretty face wondering how in love he had to be to end up in this position. “So good for me.” You smiled, nearly making him break one of your rules... possibly all of them.

“P-please let me t-touch you” he pouted.

“So needy.”

“Please.”

You nodded allowing him to move his hands. They went straight towards your hips, gripping your skin tightly, causing you to realize how close you were to the edge. Your walls clenching around him with every move, making it harder to keep himself contained. You’re eyes locked on each other, watching each other as you both fell completely apart. You noticed how heavy his breathing was and how he was trying his best not lose his shit. It was mesmerizing, noises flowing from the both of you so disgusting erotic that you wished everyone in this house was listening to the best sex they were never going to get to have. That’s when you realized you were beginning you’re ethereal trip on ecstasy.

“Y/N-”

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned as your legs began to shake around him, body jolting with pleasure as you tried milking out your orgasms by slowly rocking you hips on his but the sensations became too much.

You leaned over placing your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt his hot seed spilt into you coating your walls, as you listened to the rapid pace of his heart beating.

“Can we uhm... can we do that again?” He breathed, voice vibrated through your sensitive body.

“Fuck yea.”

[pocketramblr]

Srry for the inconvenience, but how do you find titles to your books? I just started writing this personal story about how this kid continually resets the timeline in order to receive a ‘happy ending’, but I can’t figure out what to call it. Any suggestions?

Oh, it's no inconvenience. Titles are hard, so I feel you. I think I can sort the way I do it into three methods.

1- Song Title/Lyrics/Quotes. I use this method for stories that have a fairy tale vibe (Poor Unfortunate Souls and the other stories in the Kraken Tales series) or that are particularly dramatic like I Thought You Were Mine, and I pick the title lyric before I write much of anything. Recommend this method if a certain song is what helped you come up with the idea or get into the writing mood, but I don't recommend it if you plan on publishing or submitting this story to anyone else since copyright.

2- Repeated lines/Motif. With this method I tend to come up with titles during outlining or writing. With many stories there's a theme or a symbol that works it's way in, if you can find it then it works as a great title. For example, during outlining of "The Walls are Thin" I realized that the scenes I picked to write tended to have Fuyumi very passive because that's how she copes- she frames the abuse as around her instead of to her. Most sections had her listening to something in another room or hall, so thin walls were required for a practical plot reason. Once I picked that as a title, I made sure to work the sentence in a good number of times. The same thing happened halfway though writing Hatchet- I realized a hatchet was an easy thing to seperate the two povs when I started on the second one, and so I picked that for the title.

If you go with this method- which is my personal favorite- look at your story or outline. Is the time traveler kid in denial about how hard it how many times they have to try? Is there a limit of attempts they can make? Is there a focus on how the butterfly effect keeps thwarting them? Does the kid's perspective change dramatically from start to finish? Titles like "If at first you don't succeed" or maybe a specific butterfly species- one that's rare and tricky to identify- could work, or if there's a sentence or image that keeps coming up as you read over you work that you can use.

3- The "Good Enough" Method. If the first two methods don't work, and you're looking at a complete or nearly complete story and still no title... My advice is to lower your expectations. That sounds terrible, but searching for the "perfect" title might keep you from finding one that's still "pretty good" or "perfectly serviceable". Make a list of options and eliminate the ones you like the least, or go with something that's like 80 percent satisfying instead of 100. This is probably the method I use the most. "Onlookers" is a title I still don't love, but it functions and its a 'good enough' title for a fic that's primarily a reaction to a bigger story by two characters that aren't in it. "Marks of Light" was a 'good enough' title for a fantasy story with a light-based magic system, and while I didn't love it at first with time it's really grown on me, and I'd never change it now.

If suggestions help, then a list of ones you might want to consider are: "Time makes ancient good uncouth," "If at first you don't succeed," "Try try again," "One more time and other lies," "Unacceptable Un-losses," "To catch a butterfly," "In spite of everything, everyone, everytime," "Would that I," "Slotted spoons," "A lesson in temporal tactics," "Take 157, Action!" and "Back to cue." Those were just ones I picked up from your description, but if any of them fit you can totally use it, and if any don't I hope the other three methods help you come up with something else

[taehyungsgrowl]

okay but do you want a soft/smutty sojourn!michael concept? He's all bruised and bloody and has cuts all over his torso/legs from various forest debris (bitch is a mess basically) and because he's at his lowest point, it's taking his magic a little while longer to heal him. So, you take him in and care for him, get him to take off his shirt, which he does, to your surprise, with no hesitation. You clean his wounds and he's so grateful to you and so touch starved he kisses you, sweet smut ensues

um I always want soft/smutty concepts i’m a soft hoe! Also! Not to make everything about astrology but uh my cancer moon would nurse that boy back to health I’m 😪 plus sojourn!michael is my favorite! I love that dirty binch! also sorry im very slow @ getting to writing asks :( okay wowow i’m done talking now!

—

You couldn’t believe the condition you found him in. Torn clothes, covered in dirt, bruises and cuts.

It took some convincing, but after finally getting him to agree to let you help him, you had him perched on your bathroom sink, legs dangling off of it, as you stood in between them.

You took his face in your hands, assessing the bags under his eyes and hallowed cheeks. It had clearly been a rough few days for him.

Your hands hovered over your array of tools; alcohol, water, aspirin, cotton balls, band aids, you named it. Running a white wash cloth under hot water, you delicately sponged at his face, wiping away a layer of dirt.

Michael doesn’t even realize he’s leaning his face into your hand. Relishing in the way the warm cloth feels against his skin. So inviting, so enticing.

He closed his eyes until he felt you remove the pressure from his face. His skin looked softer and clear, but the purple halos beneath his sea glass eyes still prominent.

Dried blood that has seeped through his shirt made it cling to his body. You internally cringed as you imagined the potential infection.

“Take off your shirt for me,” you instructed while drenching a cotton ball in alcohol.

He moved slowly, he felt his muscles ache from the movement. He’d never felt so weak before.

Your eyes dance across his bare chest, once he discards the shirt. Dark purple bruises and shallow cuts were scattered throughout his torso. Your hand went to touch a bruise that resembled a heart, adding the slightest amount of pressure to test the tenderness.

Keeping your eyes on Michael as you did, you noticed the little gasp that escaped his lips.

“How bad does it hurt?” Worry dripping from your voice.

Michael shook his head, “‘s okay, p-please keep going.” His voice was hoarse and dry.

You could feel his warm breath on your head as you tended to his wounds. His abdomen would sink in with every sting he felt on the surface. Your free hand was place on his side, keeping him steady. You took the liberty of gently rubbing circles on it, to try and ease him.

“This might hurt a little,” you warned as he stood over you. You examined his thigh and the large gash that ran across it.

Being on your knees before this man who was down to nothing but his underwear made your mind cloudy. You purposely diverted your eyes from his rather large bulge, but even that was hard when you were eye level with it.

“Thank you,” tears coated his eyes, once you got up. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he swallowed hard, fighting any tears.

This boy was so broken, not only physically, but it was obvious he had endured a lot of trauma. You couldn’t help but want to be okay. His eyes held a certain depth and burden that you wanted to wash him clean of.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his waist, and buried your head in his chest.

He groaned at the contact, feeling his bruises throb. You pulled away just as fast as you had touched him, “I’m so sorry,” you felt your cheeks hot, embarrassed.

“No, no, no,” he stammered out, “please it felt nice.” It was true. Your embrace made him feel secure and welcomed. Even with the dull pain of his injuries.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes and hugged you as tightly as he could manage. He knocked the breath out of you, but you let him hold you.

Michael was the first to pull away. He watched your face closely, his attention on your lips. Licking his own lips, imagining what yours must feel like.

Cupping your face with so much care, he leaned closer, ghosting his lips over yours.

You weren’t breathing. The anticipation killing you. “Kiss me,” your own voice surprised you.

And he did. His kisses were unsure, getting used to the way they contoured against your own.

The heat of your kiss grew and you felt him smile against your lips. To Michael, that felt like the first real smile he’s had in a long time.

He stepped forward, making you press your ass against the sink. His hands were everywhere, on your sides, under your shirt, on your breasts; it was like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel you everywhere.

You followed his example and gingerly danced your fingertips along his body. You were met with the waistband of his underwear, slowly inching your hand inside, when he broke the kiss.

His eyes were a shade darker. The richest blue you’d ever seen; it made you want to dip and swim in their intensity forever.

Without saying much, you both stumbled out of the bathroom and on to your unmade bed.

Michael’s head landed on your white pillow case, curls cascading his head like a halo. 

You hovered above him with care, not wanting to hurt him. Michael sensed your caution and took your hips, sitting you firmly on his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute as a sharp pain ran through his body by the sudden contact. “I’m okay,” he grunted. “I need you,” he almost choked out. 

You nodded hungrily, feeling his hardness beneath your denim clad core. Lifting off of him, you shimmied out of them and your panties, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to him. 

Before you even had the slightest touch of him, Michael moaned, taking in how wet you were for him. He felt lightheaded and hazy. 

The following all happened like a slow motion scene out of a movie. Lining your entrance with him, feeling the slight burn of him slowly inching deeper and deeper until you felt him in your lower stomach. 

Once you were completely filled with him, you didn’t are move so much as in inch. You both breathed slowly as your pussy hugged his throbbing member. Michael took many mental pictures of the way your lips hung open as his breathing hitched, causing a slight shift in his buried cock. 

Finally, fully adjusting to his girthy length, you slowly lifted yourself off of him almost completely off before sinking down on him again. 

He covered your thighs, his large hands painting a picture on your skin. They snaked their way back to your ass, groping it as you repeated the slow, lazy movement of your hips.

Each dip of your hips made your walls contract around him. He moaned and whined as your rolled your weight on him. His felt his dick pulsing as hair clung to his forehead, sticky with sweat. 

You paralleled your chest with his to catch him plump lip in between your teeth before kissing him. You tongue darted into his mouth, tasting him. The earthy groan that left him, transcended you into your climax. 

Gushing around his cock, you rocked onto him. The tightness of your flesh made Michael reach his peak soon after. He sponged kisses on your neck and jaw, sweaty foreheads pressed together. 

Rolling off of him, you made sure to inspect his wound to make sure no further damage was done. You saw Michael’s eyes flutter shut as your fingertips carefully outlined the bruises and traced his scars. 

His face looked so blissful and serene. His breathing began to slow and soon enough, he began snoring lightly. You pull the covers over his body and kissed his head. 

YEE YEE! Again, thank you so much for this concept. I really hope people like it because I really do?? and idk if its weird to say you like your own writing/work but im really happy w this one srry guys

Tagging: @codyfernss @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsoceaneyes@maso-xchrist @sweetlangdon @michael-langdon-appreciation@dunc-donut @dvngers @heownstheuniverse @yourkingcodyfern@duncandimension @duncan-shepherd @michael-langdxn@ccodyfern @daadddysprincesss @wroteclassicaly @lovelylangdonx@xtheinevitableprophecyx  @cryptid-coalition@queenofthedarkandsparkles@queencocoakimmie @ghostiesbedroom @sammythankyou@ritualmichael @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning @nana15774@missantichrist @americanhorrorstudies @et-tu-bitch @eternal-langdon @kykybright98 @starwlkers @icylangdon@thorsdiana @fernshorrorstory @avesatanormalpeoplescareme@flowersiren @gremlinkween @litenbaby @infernal-langdon @kissydevil @langdonsdemon @fireandreignmichael

[woodlandpoetic]

One-Shot RQ. {Savior}

@ininteligibleart asked:

Idk if you still doing request but here comes one, ¿what about a Kidnaped Reader who's beign saved by Leon, Ada, Claire and Chris, bc they are friends of reader? Srry for my english im from latam, greetings from Chile ¡I love your work! Keep going            

Pairing: None

Fandom: Resident Evil

Based around: RE4

Theme: Action

Warnings: Cussing

Writer’s Note: I’m so SO sorry this is beyond overdue!! Life’s gotten in the way of my writings and it’s frustrating, but sitting as a draft for a bit I FINALLY got it done!! This was actually super fun to write and I loved every part of it! Thank you for requesting from me love! ♡

Your eyes slowly flutter open, feeling your head dangle from your neck like a grapevine you feel panic quickly settle into you. The room is barely lit from where you sat, till about a few inches in front of you— gloomy red lights hung over your head. ‘Don’t panic,’ you attempt to pull your arms back forward to only feel zip ties tightly cuffed around your wrists and chair, causing you to shift harshly back and forth in hopes they’d snap. Nothing. You don’t remember how you ended up here, where you were, all you could get a glimpse of was being sent on this mission and arriving on sight. That’s it. Everything beyond that was a blur, causing a massive headache to wash over you, your head hanging once again wincing in pain. Your arms tugged relentlessly at the tightened zip ties, feeling the chair shift creek beneath you. Shit wooden chair, this should be easier than it’s portrayed to you— although deep down you were hoping your group would find you. The eerie lighting covering the room didn’t help in settling your nerves to concentrate, lifting your head again to peer around.

“Ah, Miss {Y/N}.” A voice spoke deeply through a muffled speakers above you, echoing through the room you had been enclosed in. Your head snapped to the right of you in response to the muffled voice, “Bastard.” You growled. A deep, static laugh skidded out from the speakers in response to your bottled anger.

“For such a strong, stealthy woman, you really let yourself slip this time.” The unknown male voice scoffed, “Pathetic.” Your head lazily flicked itself back with a smirk on your face, staring at the ceiling. The red lights barely skimmed the ceiling, faintly outlining the speakers lined vertical across it.

“A woman doesn’t let herself slip.” You scoffed, “Its a little disappointing it took you *this long* to get me at this mercy state.” Sarcasm escapes your tone, the voice chuckling in response. You kept tugging your arms outwards, though, the creaking and splitting of wood began to loosen the two arms of the chair behind you.

“Well, with you, it’s a different story.”

“Ohhh, still mad about that night, huh?” You laughed in response, “Don’t you worry, I know you’re angry with me. So sorry I had to dip like that.”

An irritable grunt came from the speakers, if you learned anything from Ada— it was the stealth and persuasive/sarcastic tone. Heading the wood crack, you chuckled under your breaths.

“I’m a little disappointed in you, as well.” His voice bellowed over the speakers, “{Y/N.}” Dragging our your name, you responded in a disgusted tone.

“And why’s that, Rac?” You chided, although getting sick of the small talk he was prolonging on. You wondered if your team was coming after you, although you should be more aware they need you on this team.

“You joined Redfield’s rambunctious team, although I offered you this more... luxurious high-end job.” He denounced, you shake your head with a prolonged, sarcastic sigh.

“I don’t join teams, love, I play solo on my missions. They needed me, I took the job for now. You sound disgustingly jealous, Rac, that’s not like you.” Reassuring his jealousy in dragged out sarcasm, you hear a sigh, then beeping across the room. Your smirk instantly fades as your head snaps forward, seeing a bright flashing red light about six feet in front of you. Groans of the undead stumble out from the sliding doors,

“You fucking..REALLY.”

“You should learn to behave yourself, {Y/N.} Or, at most, who you come into contact with.” You hear the speakers click off, staring at the undead quickly making their way to you as they notice you sitting away from them.

“At least make it interesting and get a metal chair next time, Rac.” Lifting up from the chair, breaking the two pegs off from the seat of the chair. Pressing the back part of the chair against your back, you harshly ripped your arms forward— snapping the back into two pieces.

“Okay, not what I wanted. But it works.”

The herd quickly made their way to you, god these things moved like hell-hounds. Swinging your left arm in front of them, you threw your other arm up as your melee defense against them. Puncturing the zombie’s skull with the sharpened end by your elbow, pushing yourself through the semi-big herd. You kept going, these stakes of the chair worked good as a defense from the herd biting you. Practically shoving your elbow into the nasty fucks, you found the door, the opening you gave yourself provided a brief minute to get through the door and quickly smash the button on the other side to close it. You hit the other side of the hall, catching your breath and gathering your now—new surroundings. Lifting up your right leg, you pulled out a pocket knife from your boot— flicking it open as you sliced the zip ties off of your wrists.

“Fucking zip ties.” Rubbing your wrists as you pushed yourself up away from the wall, you were in a testing—lab of some sort. White walls with black lined bottoms dividing the wall straight across, heavy duty metal doors lined down the left side from where yours stood. A glass rounded window peeked at the corner of your door, wrapping around, causing you to round the corner to see where you just were.

“Still has to find a way to see me.” You shook your head, suddenly the halls went dark, those familiar red lights lining the halls now.

Building on lock-down, staff must respond to their safety lined departure rooms.

“Of course. Never this easy for me.” The voice repeated in the background several times as you made your way down the maze like halls, the lights have the building a more eerie like tone to it. Not like seeing the, infected bodies in the glass water-casing, or in plexi-glass casing just staring at you. Seeing someone round the other corner about a foot away from you, your back quickly hit the other side from where you stood.

“And all I got is a knife.. great.” Peering the corner to check your surroundings, you feel a hand grab your upper arm. Habitual instinct, you slam your gripped arm into, who you assumed was either Rac or his men, into the wall as you swing your body and other knife-gripped hand up to the person’s neck. Using your knee to pin one of their legs to the wall, it took you a brief second to recognize who it was.

He didn’t even seem to budge or be inflicted by your response, he just stared at you.

“Well, at least you picked up on my techniques the most.”

Sighing, you released him from the wall as you backed up.

“I have my own techniques, Leon, don’t give yourself too much credit. Hm?”

Going to turn away from him to find a way out, he hands you one of his pistols. Confused, you looked back up from the pistol to look at him.

“Really? You, carrying multiple guns?” You remarked, he half smiled at you in response.

“And the sarcasm?” Taking the pistol from him, you cocked it back.

“Again, my own tone Leon. I just know your personality.” Returning the half smile, your eyes shifted back to the eerily lit hallways that spread like a maze. Leon steps in front of you, holding his pistol in front of him, gripped with both hands as he turned his head to the side as a way to talk to you from behind him.

“Stay close.”

Nodding, you two took off down the maze-like hallways as you rounded every corner skidding of your shoes against the floor as you rounded corners. You wondered if the others came along with Leon, or if it was just him alone. Either way, it wouldn’t surprise you as you turned off from the another corner—

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Seeing Leon stop dead in his tracks, you come up from his side to see a line of men blocking the way into the main hall. Guns pointed directly in our direction, you stood your ground as you held your pistol up to them glancing over at Leon.

“Any bright ideas now, genius?” You huffed, watching him side glance over to you in irritation.

“Stand behind me, we’ll move in unison.” Sighing, again you move close behind him as you shifted your pistol pointing past the right side of his neck as you started moving forward. Hearing their guns clock, you swallowed down the slight choked up fear you felt.

“Leon maybe we sh—“

Loud blasts of guns came from the other side of men, watching them drop to the ground like a line of dominoes. You threw yourself off of Leon’s back side as you stepped past him, seeing past the smoke you notice three other figures.

Claire? Ada?! Chris?!

“How in the ever-loving fuck—“ You topple over your words as they quickly approach you two with relief streamed across their faces, Ada and Claire coming to your general direction.

“{Y/N}!” Claire greeted you with a bear hug before letting go, you smiled in relief to see them both. Ada smiles faintly at you, she wasn’t much of an emotional woman but that fit well with your personality.

“I was hoping you guys were with Leon,” You breathed from the panic, Ada shook her head as she stepped forward.

“Seeing as how somebody had to go solo, the three of us stuck together.”

Looking over to see Leon finding his response, the red lights began flashing repeatedly. All of you instantly looked at one another, as if you predicted what was about to be said.

Self destruct sequence activated, all personal and staff must exit immediately.

Repeating itself in the background, loud alarms began ringing and echoing throughout the halls.

“Could’ve expected that.” Leon spoke up, all of you turned towards the direction of the main hall.

“Follow me,” Chris steps forward in front of your group, “but stay close.” One after another, again you took off into the hallway through the flashing red lights, sirens and slight panic you all felt. Leon stayed in back while Chris took the lead of you three, accepting the fact they were both protecting you, Ada and Claire from any possible threats blocking your way out. Closing in on the exit door to the roof, a large metal door quickly begins descending, then another behind you.

Chris skids to a stop, quickly ushering the three of you to get past the metal door.

“Go!”

You managed to slide past the quickly closing in metal door, then Claire and Ada quickly following behind. Watching in panic as Chris and Leon barely make it fully past the metal door as it slams to the ground— locking itself in place. Watching Chris dart to the front he ushers you all to start running up the roof door, watching him kick it down without hesitation. Stepping back as you three nearly flew up the stairs, Claire kicking down the other door.

You’re greeted with a loud helicopter-military like aircraft, heavy winds circling it as you’re forced to cover half your face with your arm. Feeling someone press on your back and assuringly pushing you towards the aircraft, you notice it’s Leon quickly pacing beside you as you all make it onto the back. Chris stepping on quickly at first with Claire and Ada following close behind,

“Let’s go! Move!” He shouted, the pilot responding as they quickly lifted the craft off the landing pad as it shot across the sky. Watching the back of the caboose close, you didn’t get to see the building itself self-combust, but for now you were alright with that.

“Next time, take one of us with you.” Leon commented to you, leaning forward off of one of the seats in the back. Ada smacks his arm in response, glaring at one another before she looks over to you.

“Don’t listen to his arrogance, you’ll catch on soon enough.” She stood up from her seat, approaching you as you stayed standing up for now.

“Besides, I see potential in you, so does Claire and Chris.”

“I never said—“ Ada points back at him, as if shushing him from where she stood.

“I didn’t ask.”

Claire laughed, smiling as she shook her head.

“Ada’s right, it takes time. Besides, when you were captured we were on our feet within seconds.”

You smile in response to their kind words, nodding at Ada as she went to go sit back down beside Leon.

“Glad to have teammates like you four.” They all faintly smile at you as the copter flew away from the scene itself, your eyes wandered to the large windows in the front as you finally catch your breath.

It’s good to be back home.

[catmeme-moved]

Hello! I’m going to make one of your cat cubes (though I’m making it a bunny for the person I’m giving it to) and would like to know how do you do the solid stitching of the face (eyes)? Do you do that before sewing all the squares together? Thank you!

hi srry for the late response!! in my tutorial i did the face at the end, but it's better looking + easier to make it before you stitch all the squares together. i also recommend using an embroidery hoop and embroidery floss, they make the process much easier! but it can also be done just fine w normal thread and no hoop. i'm not good at explaining things like this without making a super long post so i'd suggest looking up a lil tutorial video on how to do different types of embroidery stitches! i use a backstitch to make the mouth and outline of the eyes, and then a satin stitch to fill in the solid parts of the eyes. i'm still very much a beginner at stitching faces onto my plushies but i'd be happy to help u out more if u need :•)