#but it’s just a look and a fashion he’s cultivated for himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b00tyliciousbabe · 15 days

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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

barbie tingz

marcus scribner x THICC male reader

summary: just marcus loving you like with his heart, soul, and FAT SCHLONG. slight feminisation - don’t kill me.

notes: LOVELIES! hope everyone is having a beautiful day. i wanted to let y’all know that i will be taking a lil break because it’s exam season. don’t be sad…because this means i have an entire summer of smutty content to write and catch up on! ps. each word in this fic is me being another squat closer to the fattest ass in the world. ENJOY!

ALSO! the met gala is tonight! my favourite event of the year, i might make a short rec…how do we feel about that?

song rec: ‘freak’ - victoria monét

marcus was well on his way to establishing a name for himself in hollywood. booking new roles, alongside his debut as a director, he was on track for a career that would rival his mentors. but if you were to ask him what his biggest achievement was, he would say being with you. the corny mf has actually reiterated his adoration multiple times during interviews, and the world is obsessed with how lovestruck he was. aside from being social media’s favourite young couple, you, yourself, had a blossoming career in fashion that meant you were styling your man to make sure he looked good for his press tours.

notoriously, you garnered a reputation for EATING UP on the carpet - zendaya being your only competition. this ain’t no exaggeration, but every time you’d step out, those fits would break the internet. thus, when the news dropped that you’d be attending the premiere with your boyfriend, all eyes would be on you - yet again. having you on his arm, instantly elevated his aesthetic. not that he ever saw you as some pawn too boost his career, you meant the world to him, but your beauty as his trophy wife made him even more palatable. usually, you’d have an entire glam team by your side cultivating your iconic, polished look. but, you and marcus had both been working so hard, to the detriment of your relationship, and so you decided to spend the night at his, agreeing to do all the glam yourself.

‘Y/N,’ Marcus bellowed from downstairs, putting on his rings, and spraying cologne onto his clothes. ‘baby, we gotta go.’

‘Y/N! over here! to the left! Y/N!’ a flurry of paparazzi screamed. ‘the body is TEA!’ one reporter exclaimed, making you laugh.

you graciously blushed. they weren’t wrong, your pear-shaped figure, defined abs, and toned arms were nothing short of a sculpted masterpiece. amidst the bbl allegations on twitter, and every tabloid claiming to have the secret to getting an ass as perfect as yours, YOU were the standard. a beautiful, androgynous mix of allure and charm. not even chris evans, america’s ass, said that you had the best glutes in the industry. it was a thing of wonder; something so many lusted for, and even more desired to have a piece of whilst having you in backshots. there were an array of wolf whistles from the public whenever you walked, swiftly followed by a gaggle of photographers snapping shots of your post-gym bawd.

marcus soon joined you on the carpet after finishing up on his interview. if the sensory overstimulation of flashes and cheers wasn’t enough, this was heightened when marcus snaked his arm around your lower back. whispering sweet nothings into your ear, spectators were foaming at the mouth by his public proclamations of love, hiding your blush from the world.

‘don’t be shy,’ he said lifting your chin to his face. ‘there’s that smile I love.’ the whole crowd was gushing, you could’ve cringed at how clingy he was being in public, but found his confidence to do so, all the more endearing.

one thing that you sly liked about marcus, was how he jealous he could get, so many of his friends and industry buffs would come up to talk to you during the interviews, coming up for hugs, and even though he trusted you, his need to protect had him riled. marcus had a great relationship with all of his co-stars and they all became such a family over the filming process. you being there made the family even stronger, embodying the role of MOTHERRR in more ways than one, and they all appreciated your kindness. always there to soften the stressful tones of your bf’s criticism.

you were particularly close with his friend from another project, and due to mutual management you spent a lot of time in the same spaces. he came up and hugged you from behind, before being whisked away to speak with another reporter. all but a few seconds, lasted an eternity, the worst kind, burned into the possessive psyche of your man.

moments passed and it was time for group pictures on the carpet. you and marc were dead center, with his large hands gripping you tighter than usual. you looked up to see he was scowling, ‘lighten up bubs.’ you giggled, to which your bf fixed his face - he could never stay mad when you were always there to calm his demons. not long after, the same face screw, that made his nose look so cute came back, as he remembered the voices of the media resounding in his head.

‘damn I’d hit that.’

‘Marcus is one lucky mf to be all up in dat pussy’

‘I bet the recoil on that thing is insane.’

it infuriated him to hear how the public spoke about you, as if you were some object, and not the kind person he grew so enamoured with. ‘I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you gon’ beg me for mercy.’ he whispered , breaking that veneer of respectability for a brief moment, squeezing your butt, then turning back to smile at the cameras. you’d never seen that side to him, it’d be a lie to say it didn’t turn you on.

throughout the screening, he made sure to let you know that all your teasing would soon be dealt with. the vulgar remarks were still plaguing him, and you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of it. literally.

‘upstairs.’ he said sternly,

the two of you started kissing, unbuttoning his shirt as he unbuckled your pants to free the globes of juicy flesh he loved so much. strewn across the floor, all fear of creasing the custom couture outfit you were wearing had disappeared - the overwhelming desire to make love to your boyfriend clouded your judgement.

you get down to business, kneeling to align your lips with his cock head. ‘don’t take this the wrong way.’ marcus sighed, urging you to stand up, so frail against how tall your man stood.

‘Y/N, i just wanna fuck right now.’

you knew how badly he needed this, and a part of you liked how desperate he was to be inside you. but it was bizarre, marcus loved watching you suck him off, getting him all lubed to plough your hole, almost as much as you loved gagging on his meat. nonetheless, you obliged, bending over as you had your knees on the edge of the bed, hole puckering at the chill of the air. marcus grabbed your left cheek, caressing and massaging your upper hip.

‘so fucking soft.’ he whispers against your skin, kissing at your taint. it was as if he snapped out of his love drunk trance, and was left a primal shell of himself. he practically ripped off your underwear, leaving your naked bodies to rub up on each other as he scrambled to find lube.

‘fuuuuuuuk’ he groaned.

his thick schlong fit like a glove in your inviting hole, slick from your desire and his precum.

‘damn i missed that boy pussy’ - LIES. that man combusts if he isn’t inside of you at least 4 times a week - wtf was there to miss? this sentiment made you smile at how whipped he was for you though.

his pace quickened. pulling his entire length out of you, except his bulbous tip, and spitting directly on your pussy to get you even more slick. ‘hear that baby,’ he praised the ‘mac n cheese’ sloppiness of your hole. ‘your pussy was made for me.’ he was right; most guys love skinny twinks because their petite butts made their tops’ look hung. despite the voluptuous curves you had, you were ample in both chest and derrière making average look like a micro penis inside you. all but marcus. he overpowered you in ways no other man could, his thick, girthy cock stretched you out in a way that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure. not to mention his length, during your first time he could barely fit half in without it feeling like he was stabbing your insides. but after some practice, you started taking him - ALL of him.

his grunts deepened. ‘practically begging me to cum inside that hole.’ gripping your hair up fucking you in doggy. style. marcus began leaving love bites on your neck, marking you for all to see. his big hand crossed to caress your childbearing hips. whoever said men can’t get pregnant must’ve never accounted for marcus’ determination. his dick wanted to make you a mother so badly, and nothing was going to stop him trying.

‘you can take it.’ he praises. ‘all. of. it.’ slamming into you with a bold rhythm on his final three words. and that you could. your hole was heaven for him. every time he would enter, your thick meaty globes would bounce like jelly on his lower abdomen, making marcus even more inclined to give you your reward. you moaned out in ecstasy, your bodies were made for one another.

‘who’s pussy is this?’ his grip on your neck became tighter, still allowing you to moan out in response, ‘it’s yours marky, all yours.’ fuck. you were whipped, almost as much as he was. ‘that’s right baby, moan for me.’

‘scream like the little bitch you are.’ you and marcus both enjoyed the passion of rough sex, but this was something you hadn’t ever seen in him before. he was a beast and you loved it, way more than you could ever admit. there was something sweet about the high you were on as you were being impaled by his dick.

particularly, he relished in hearing your slutty cries, ‘music to my fucking ears.’ praising you ‘my pretty little slut, fuck yeah, you want my load.’

‘fuck yeah marc, give it to me please.’ you screeched, loving how hard he was clapping your cheeks.

‘shiiiiiiit, baby, fuuuuuck.’ he spouted, spilling his pearliness into your pussy. he used his thumbs to kneed the dough around your hips, losing himself in the bakery he so enjoyed visiting every morning for breakfast.

gently, he collapsed on top of you, still inside the warmth of your flesh. after a gentle make out sesh, cockwarming your boyfriend until he was soft, your bf brushed up against you. massaging your thick thighs, marcus tended to the bruises he gave, kissing them reassuringly. you ushered him to lay his head between your pecs, as he put his entire body weight onto you. he sighed deeply, feeling safe in your warm embrace. ‘marc, is everything okay?’ you stroke his face, as your fingers laced into his curls. he snickered groggily, ‘shouldn’t i be asking you the same thing?’ - a fair question because he litch just wrecked your shit. ‘real, but we both know that in a couple hours i’ll be fine.’ a silence filled the room, concern brewing in your heart. you played with his ear, knowing how he becomes putty in your hands. ‘fuuuuuck, you ain’t gon’ stop unless i talk, right?’ you kept quiet, trailing the tips of your fingers on his lobe. he sighed deeply, ‘i just get so possessive over you.’ his last words muffled by your ample bosom as he came to the realisation that the press’ words got to him more than he thought.

sitting up, marcus exhaled deeply. ‘i can’t even blame them for ogling, you’re so beautiful.’ ‘but u ain’t an object, and i hate that people treat you like that.’ you caressed his cheek with a loving care. ‘call it jealousy, possession, toxic - I don’t care. you’re all mine.’ marcus always felt the need to take care of what was his, doing better than what he had seen throughout his childhood.

you had an idea, trailing your fingers down his torso, circling his belly button, ‘why don’t you show me again?’ whispering into his ear as he breathed out in pleasure.

you kissed his cheek, before slowly massaging his dick tip, ‘how much do you love me.’

marcus turned you over. stroking and licking his ear, y’all were so intimate. he held onto the grooves of your waist, fucking into you slowly, marking your neck with his saliva.

‘you’re such a dream to me Y/N,’ he always had a way with words that made you smile like a school girl. ‘I was so selfish before, you didn’t even come.’ you always placed marcus’ pleasure above your own, but he was never satisfied with just brutalising your hole. he needed you to enjoy taking his dick, just as much as he enjoyed gaping your hole.

‘guess I’ll have to fuck another load in, to get one out of you.’ he joked, sucking on the sweet skin of your plump ass.

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tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

#gay reader #gay #bottom male reader #smut #gay male #male bottom #male x male #male bottom reader #male x male fluff #male reader #m4m #amab reader

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fatalism-and-villainy · 1 year

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Rewatching season 2 had me really struck by the sheer amount of time Will spends performing for other people, and how few fully authentic interactions he has. In fact, I’d say one of the biggest through lines between the first and second halves of the season is Will learning how to wear masks, and then actively deploying that for the purpose of catching Hannibal.

(And how fitting is it that the promo for season 2 had Will wearing the iconic hockey mask? Not just a franchise in-joke, but a reflection of the fact that he “becomes” Hannibal in this season, begins to symbolically merge with him, to the point in which his own goals become clouded to him.)

It's a natural extension of season 1's establishment of his empathic abilities, where he begins to more actively use his ability to read other people and discern their motivations as a tool, or weapon. Simply telling the truth about his innocence doesn’t serve him - so he adapts a façade very quickly, in his faked tears for Hannibal and Alana. All of his interactions with others while in prison - Chilton, Lounds, Matthew Brown, etc. - are very deliberately engineered, and lean into what Will knows (or thinks) each person wants to hear - all setting the stage for him doing the same thing to Hannibal. Every word, everything about his intonation, is so precise - something that specifically struck me in this stretch of episodes was when he talks to Gideon and very carefully leans forward as he’s trying to drive his point home:

(And the body language, interestingly enough, is not just persuasive, but also mirrors the way Gideon sometimes leans/dangles his arms out of the cage when talking to others - and it reminds me of Will also mirroring Hannibal’s body language during the “not now that I finally find you interesting” scene, when he bites his lip in the way Hannibal so often does.)

It really highlights how so much of how he interacts with others during this entire stretch of the plot is a very carefully crafted performance, with so many of Will’s actual feelings and motivations subsumed into his manipulations. I remember watching the DVD commentary on Su-zakana, and they talk about how Will’s visible surliness with Hannibal was meant to stem from the fact that he didn’t want to be too friendly with Hannibal right away, because it would look suspicious. And I think that gets at something that’s present with how both Will and Hannibal manipulate others - they’re not necessarily lying about their feelings, just consciously using genuine feelings or motivations as a method of influencing others. With Hannibal, he frequently does feel genuine affection for others, and his care for them stems from that, but it’s also often used to put them at ease, serve his own ends. Will, for his part, is genuinely angry with Hannibal, but actively uses those feelings to fashion an aura of standoffishness. And of course, Hannibal has a genuine pull for him, and he deliberately leans into and cultivates that enjoyment for the sake of entrapping Hannibal. …Which of course leads to a situation where he has to put on a show for Jack as well, in which he downplays how deep into it he’s getting.

So it’s entirely fitting that the opening of Mizumono features the two halves of Will’s face - the front he’s presenting to Hannibal, and the front he’s presenting to Jack - merging, mask-like, in the middle of the screen.

They’re both the real him, and they’re both masks - and he gets so subsumed into his performances for others, the modulation and accentuation and sublimation of his feelings that they require, that he gets lost to himself (and is also terribly lonely and isolated). No wonder he’s confused and unmoored in early season 3.

#hannibal #hannibal meta #will graham #my meta #hannibal talk #both seasons 2 and 3 have a break in the middle but also some kind of through line - this is that #hmm something about how like... season 1 is about hannibal trying to convince him he's gotten lost in a killer's mind #but actually he's being manipulated by someone else #and then here he has more agency and he's the one working to deceive hannibal - but he gets lost nonetheless #in others' designs (hannibal's and jack's) and his own conflicting motivations

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asterlark · 10 months

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today in Leverage Thoughts That Make Me Sad- it's canon that eliot has a much better than average memory, and we see this in a few ways:

the extensive and minute knowledge he has of things like helicopter and bullet sounds, and what different groups of military look like based on haircuts and stances, always brushed off with "it's a very distinctive ___"

the knowledge he gathers from women he dates, paying attention to things like what's currently fashionable, what flight attendants prefer to be called, etc; again brushed off with "what? i dated a ___"

the speech in the experimental job about him remembering everyone he's ever killed, up to and including their names, what they wore, and what food was on their breath

if you've rewatched the show at all or pay attention to eliot specifically in any scene, you'll notice that he observes people very closely. i think this goes back to a hyper-vigilance he's cultivated through his days in the military and doing wetwork- probably especially in working with moreau. if your circumstances are that difficult to navigate, and if you can only really depend on yourself, of course you're going to notice and remember details about people. you'd have to develop that skill, to have the knowledge to give yourself options if you ever needed to escape suddenly.

also, for eliot's job in retrieval, he had to be a successful grifter somewhat often, so it makes sense that he'd find it important to both notice and remember small details about other people in that setting as well. cultivating that skill with people, with lying and charming, was a survival instinct.

all of this is to say- eliot has always done this, remembered little things about people, in service of his own survival (he's loaned out the skill to others, but you can argue that work is based in a survival instinct too... anyway). during the course of leverage we start to see him using these skills not only to protect other people, but to make them happy too. while he's risking his life every day to protect the team, he's also using his excellent memory to do things like buy parker a fucking plant that does something and say it's from hardison!

he wants to go beyond simply protecting them, he loves them and wants to show it- but he won't take the credit. eliot doesn't believe he's worth loving. he doesn't believe he'll ever be actually loved back, let alone loudly, by parker and hardison.

so he lets the credit be on hardison, he talks to them both and gives them advice about each other, he tells them in the rundown job to get on a plane out of d.c. so he can take whatever's coming himself. he pushes them away, towards each other, because he wants them to be happy and he thinks they will be happiest not knowing him that deeply.

but he also couldn't bear not being in their lives, not standing with them every day and protecting them from harm- so he puts his body, his memory, his mind in service of them, every single day. just... always from a distance. and he thinks he's doing it for them, to protect them, but he's doing it for himself out of fear of rejection. because he doesn't think he's good enough, worthy enough, of love. and that's so fucking sad.

#this is why i can't stand redemption for not having the ot3 be together #you're telling me it's been the 3 of them for YEARS and eliot's still on the outside telling himself he'll never be with them?#you're telling me he's right??#i refuse to believe it #leverage #eliot spencer #ot3 #credit to jam unlonelist for the phrase 'he pushes them away toward each other'#mine

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meraki-yao · 5 months

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Transcription and Translation of Taylor's Little Red Book Livestream (9th December 2023, to the best of my ability)

Q: Question A: Answer

Side Banters:

H: Host T: Taylor Anything in brackets: me or additional elaboration

Q: Asking him to share his experience of city walking in Shanghai earlier today

A: They went to Yu Garden which Taylor said was incredible, and he tried 糖葫蘆 Tanghulu, a traditional Chinese sweet which is candied Chinese Hawthorn

Q: How was the past few days for him and where did he go

A: He's been in China for four nights now (He came by himself btw) First night he stayed at the J Hotel which is the third tallest building in the world and the tallest hotel in the world. After that, he went to 濮院 (the venue for the GQ event) for two nights and it was incredible

Q: How's his jetlag?

A: It's hitting right now 😂 He's been drinking a lot of tea and getting better

Q: What led him to choose to become an actor instead of a competitive swimmer

A: That was an easy choice, he swan for 10 years and then decided he didn't want to swim in college, and then decided he didn't want to be a doctor (his brother's a doctor) and maybe disappointed his parents (H: No way!) It was a hard decision but he decided to move to LA and pursue acting (H: and you made it!)

Q: How is he enjoying being an actor?

A: It's tough, ups and downs. It's kind of like swimming, it's an individual activity, but you also get to collaborate with the community, which is fun.

Q: What are his favourite three movies and why?

A: The Matrix, Fight Club and Interstellar, he likes movie with a twist

Q: What type of music does he like

A: Deep House, Tropical House, Reggaeton

And then the host taught him a couple of Chinese phrases

Q: What sparked his interest in fashion

A: His dad bought him a subscription to GQ when he was younger which started his interest in fashion, and then he started watching fashion-related movies (like Brad Pitt in Allied) which further cultivated that interest. Maybe in the future, he'll try out characters like that

Q: Did he meet any friends in the GQ event?

A: He met Li Xian who he met in Italy earlier, otherwise met a lot of new people.

Q: Why is he passionate about being eco-friendly when it comes to fashion?

A: It was inspired initially by his mom. They lived in the countryside with horses, cows, and fields away from the city, and he has seven siblings (he's the sixth oldest/ third youngest) so there are a lot of hand-me-downs and not a lot of new things, so the family kept on using the same things. He gained a deeper awareness of the issue in recent years.

Q: Talk a bit about fashion sustainability

A: A lot of fast fashion material and clothes are thrown out really soon and disposed of really quickly (despite still being in good shape) but a lot of clothing material, especially synthetic fabric can't be recycled, so it's just like throwing out plastic. Actually, a lot of clothes can keep being reused and styled. He's had the inner shirt he's currently wearing for four years.

Q: Any future plans?

A: He has a film project early next year and there are other things he's excited about but can't talk about yet

Q: Is he going to Shanghai Disneyland?

A: He wants to but he doesn't have time

H: You don't even need to go to Disney you look like a Disney character already! (Damn right!!!)

Q: What food have you had in China so far?

A: Don't get him started on the subject of food 😂 He's had a Shanghainese Lunch today and a Cantonese (YAY) lunch yesterday, and he's looking for some spicy food for tomorrow. Also, he had a really crazy allergic reaction and his lips got giant (???). He needs to be careful with food.

T: I see talk about RWRB, what do you want to know? I'll give some secret intel

(me: YESSSSSSSSSS FINALLY)

RWRB questions speedrun:

Q: sequel?

A: ... He doesn't know. He says he thinks Casey has to write another book for that.

Q: Deleted scenes?

A: They're deleted for a reason (DUDE)

Q: BTS?

A: He says he has some on his phone and he would show us but he doesn't have his phone right now, he might post it later (PLEASE DO)

H: He's leaving after three days

T: (reading off comments) Come visit Hong Kong next time? Yeah! (me, who lives in Hong Kong: AHHHHHHHHHH)

Q: Do you know any Chinese nicknames of yours?

A: 忒樂. (tei le, or "Tay"-le) meaning too happy (I made a list of the boys' Chinese nicknames here)

Annddd... That's it! The live was pretty short, like 20 minutes? He ended it by picking up the phone and showing the audience the Shanghai city view himself (I was too busy typing to get a screenshot)

All transcription or interpretation mistakes are mine

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #holy shit this was exiciting #i haven't done transcription in three years #also something I wanted to note but it's speculation so I'm putting it in the tags #Taylor had to point out RWRB himself even though most of the comments were about RWRB followed by please come to xx city #Even during watching the live i kept thinking why isn't the host mentioning RWRB at all Taylor read RWRB himself #but I have two speculations #either this was in collaboration with a fashion brand so they wanted to put the focus on fashion #but in that case Taylor never mentioned the brand or it was never plugged in like a commercial live stream would #Even the account is Taylor's own account and not a brand account #or it's China's latent homophobia :) which in that case FUCCCKKKK #meraki translates

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silverstark · 5 months

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Heavenly Demon Baby Fever pt.4

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3

BingQiu get baby fever. Tentatively rated M instead of T.

x-x-x-x-x

Despite spending most of his time traveling the world carrying out all of Luo Binghe’s roleplay fantasies, Shen Qingqiu tried to set a good example for his disciples by never neglecting his Peak Lord duties. He made sure that his and Luo Binghe’s visits to Cang Qiong Mountain coincided with Peak Lord meetings whenever possible. He usually enjoyed these meetings…meaning he enjoyed opportunity to put on his finest poser act and learn all the Peak Lord gossip he had missed while he was away.

That wasn’t the case on this particular day. Shen Qingqiu woke up feeling ill to the point that he couldn’t even attempt to hide it from his husband. Luo Binghe, of course, fretted and clung and conveniently tried to coax him to stay in bed, but Shen Qingqiu had refused to compromise his morals.

And so, Shen Qingqiu dragged himself all the way to Qiong Ding Peak, took his customary seat by his sect leader, and braced himself for a long meeting. The Peak Lords engaged in their usual chatter as they waited for the meeting to begin.

“Shen-shixiong, try this new wine I made!”

“Is it really appropriate for us to drink before the meeting has even begun?” Shen Qingqiu demurred.

“Fine, fine, you don’t have to drink now. You can drink with us later at Zui Xian Peak! Just give it a smell for now.”

Shen Qingqiu obligingly gave the jar of wine a sniff. He froze then. The one sniff had made his head spin, and not in a good way.

“Excuse me,” he muttered.

He stuffed the jar of wine back into his shidi’s hand and then he rushed out of the hall.

“En? What’s wrong with Shen-shixiong?”

“Is that new wine of yours really that bad?” someone teased.

The wine-making Peak Lord bristled. “If shixiong thinks so, then I won’t trouble him to try my wine from now on.”

“Shidi, I was wrong!”

Shen-shixiong was in fact finding a quiet spot in Qiong Ding Peak’s ornamental gardens to puke up his entire breakfast.

Motherfucker. Shen Qingqiu was supposed to be immune from all disease thanks to his regular medical appointments with the Heavenly Pillar. What kind of unscientific bs was this?

He tidied his appearance and made his miserable way back to his seat. Yue Qingyuan had considerately waited to start the meeting until Shen Qingqiu returned. Shen Qingqiu was embarrassed. He’d only come because he didn’t like making trouble for his kind shixiong when he could help it, and look what had come of it!

Shen Qingqiu strictly admonished himself to endure any further discomfort. But he had to run back outside again when it was the Ku Xing Peak leader turn to speak. He liked to angrily wave his hands around when he spoke, wafting an acrid smell around the room. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, just a side-effect of always meditating using rare incense. But it wasn’t particularly nice either. Shen Qingqiu for some reason could not bear the scent today.

He apologized to Yue Qingyuan under his breath before he fled. His only consolation was that his absence this time was shorter: He had already found Qiong Ding Peak’s ideal secret puking spot! He gave himself a little achievement badge in his mind and then tried to sneak back into the meeting. Yue Qingyuan frowned at him in concern when he returned.

“Shidi, is everything alright?” Yue Qingyuan asked.

Shen Qingqiu smiled tightly as he fanned the cold sweat off his face. He wished Luo Binghe were here. If he were, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t even have to say anything. Luo Binghe would quietly place before him a tray of mild tea and a light snack to settle his stomach. But Cang Qiong Mountain Sect had mysteriously done away with the tradition of having peak lords bring their top disciples along with them to regular sect meetings.

“Of course. Let shidi continue.”

The Ku Xing Peak leader gladly resumed his diatribe about kids these days who preferred fast-fashion cultivation styles over committing to Ku Xing’s steady, tried and true cultivation style. Shen Qingqiu was a little piqued -since when was Qing Jing Peak’s cultivation style unreliable?- but he couldn’t focus on that once the servants brought forth trays of snacks to place before each peak lord.

A sickly-sweet smell rose up from something on the tray, and Shen Qingqiu had to abruptly leave the meeting again.

When he came back, his fellow peak lords didn’t bother to hide their gossiping.

“—probably from some exotic demonic cuisine.”

“The air can’t be wholesome in those underground palaces either, not when he’s used to Qing Jing Peak’s pure air.”

“And don’t forget those qi deviations he used to have,” someone whispered. “It can’t be good for his core that he’s dual-cultivating with a Heavenly Demon all of the time.”

“Shixiong!” someone replied with a delighted and faux-scandalized gasp.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat at the door. Once everyone had shut up and noticed his return, he swept a trademark cold look around the table. Then he made his dignified way back to his seat.

He almost made it. As he prepared to gracefully take his seat, Liu Qingge suddenly appeared beside him and grabbed one of his arms.

“…What is the meaning of this, Liu-shidi?”

Liu Qingge ignored him and turned to Mu Qingfang.

“Will you come here, or do I drag him over?”

Mu Qingfang looked at Shen Qingqiu apologetically before glancing over at Yue Qingyuan. Shen Qingqiu likewise looked over. Surely Yue Qingyuan would put a stop to this nonsense!

…Yue Qingyuan lowered his eyes to sip at his tea. Before Shen Qingqiu could even voice a complaint over this betrayal, Qi Qingqi had showed up to grab Shen Qingqiu’s other arm and help drag Sheng Qingqiu over to Mu Qingfang.

“Shixiong!” Shen Qingqiu whined at Yue Qingyuan, who ignored him. Shen Qingqiu turned to pout at Liu Qingge. “This is completely unnecessary.”

“It would have been unnecessary, if that disciple had taken care of you the way he promised he would,” Qi Qingqi scolded.

Shen Qingqiu drew himself up in indignation. He got as far as “Binghe takes care of me perfectly well,” before his brain caught up. When had Luo Binghe promised to take care of him? To whom had he promised? Had Qi Qingqi secretly given Luo Binghe the shovel talk? Why had Luo Binghe said nothing of it to Shen Qingqiu, his husband?

By the time Liu Qingge took Shen Qingqiu’s hand and held it out in front of Mu Qingfang, Shen Qingqiu was feeling disgruntled with everyone. He barely even cared about the results of this silly health check. It wasn’t like it could be anything serious: Dual-cultivating with Heavenly Demons was very good for one’s health, whatever that ignorant person had whispered earlier.

Mu Qingfang cleared his throat and said, “Liu-shixiong will have to let go of Shen-shixiong’s hand first.”

Liu Qingge gave Shen Qingqiu a stern glare before releasing his hand as if he thought Shen Qingqiu would flee at the first opportunity. Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him. One of these days, he was going to release a nest of demonic hornets on Bai Zhan Peak. See if Bai Zhan Peak Lord could fight hornets. Or maybe demonic mosquitoes. Demonic mosquitoes would be quite formidable after feeding off Liu Qingge’s spiritual energy-rich blood.

Mu Qingfang undoubtedly saw the evil thoughts on Shen Qingqiu’s face and feared that they were directed at him.

“May I?” he asked.

Shen Qingqiu thought it over, realized it would be better to get it over with sooner, and nodded coolly.

“You may,” he said magnanimously.

This dramatic mess wasn’t Mu-shidi’s fault, after all.

Mu Qingfang took Shen Qingqiu’s hand and read his pulse. Everyone in the room, from the peak lords and little An Ding disciples to the servants, scooted closer to listen in on the diagnosis.

Mu Qingfang’s expression was calm as he focused on his work. Then his face turned pale. Then it gradually reddened.

“What is it?” Liu Qingge demanded, before even Shen Qingqiu asked.

Mu Qingfang let go of Shen Qingqiu’s hand and began to cough violently. Shen Qingqiu became a little uneasy. Mu Qingfang had been quite composed when he told Shen Qingqiu about his Without a Cure poisoning. Then again, Shen Qingqiu had been unconscious when Mu Qingfang had made the diagnosis.

…In any case, it couldn’t be anything worse than Without a Cure, could it? Shen Qingqiu mentally went over his activities in the past few days. He and Luo Binghe had…just the night before, after they had arrived at Qing Jing Peak, so what could have attacked him in the course of the morning? Were there really already demonic mosquitos on Cang Qiong Mountain? How could they have dared to bite him with Luo Binghe around?

“Mu Qingfang,” Liu Qingge insisted.

Mu Qingfang cleared his throat once more and managed to pull himself together.

“Shen-shixiong is well,” he announced.

“As if we’d believe that,” Qi Qingqi complained. “What was that reaction for, then?”

Mu Qingfang reddened again. “False alarm!”

Shen Qingqiu opened his fan with a sigh. He appreciated his shidi’s efforts to be discrete even though they were completely useless. He didn’t know why his sect siblings had to be so nosy. It was probably some wife-plot disease that Lou Binghe -or rather, the Heavenly Pillar- would resolve two days from now during their scheduled sex session.

“Stop badgering him. Mu-shidi will tell me in private later and if,” he emphasized, “it is any of your business, I may share the news.”

“Boo,” someone jeered under their breath.

Shen Qingqiu ignored it. He straightened out the little wrinkles Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi had made on his sleeves and returned to his seat. Yue Qingyuan finally re-established order. Shen Qingqiu decided not to worry about it. He had gotten pretty good at dealing with Shang Qinghua’s shitty wife plots, after all.

x-x-x-x-x

#SVSSS #BingQiu #implied mpreg #myfanfic #Shia LaBeouf meme from Shen Qingqiu's previous life: Don’t let your dreams be dreams~

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myboyknows · 3 months

Note

"the confidence when he's playing a role vs the insecurity when he's being himself" is such a good way to put it, and there's times I've fantasized about having a line that deft to throw at the haters. I'll keep it in my back pocket if such a situation ever arises again.

Please do!

I've been an AtS fan for a long time, and something I've always found so compelling about Angel is how easy it is for him to slip into a disguise and walk into a situation armed only with his own confidence in the role he's playing. He does it several times - especially over the course of the first two seasons of AtS - and I am absolutely enthralled by it. He's suddenly an art museum guide, a police detective in charge of a crime scene, a priest, 'cool' vampire J-Don, a lawyer, a French guy who loves fashion. Angel would never go out in a Hawaiian shirt and beach hat on his own, but he has zero problem with becoming Herb Saunders: Clueless Tourist from Baltimore in front of a mob boss. There are a lot of things this says to me about his character:

He's clever.

He's spontaneous.

He's calm under pressure.

He's good at improv/bluffing and should probably call Rebecca Lowell's agent and just become an actor already.

He doesn't care how strangers perceive him. This is the one that I think a lot of fans don't really understand about Angel. This man does not give a fuck. The reason he wouldn't wear a Hawaiian shirt on a normal day but is happy to do it in front of Little Tony isn't because he's embarrassed for other people to see him in a loud shirt - clearly - but because Angel has his own particular style that he feels comfortable in as himself and doesn't want to wear something that doesn't appeal to him, unless he himself chooses to wear it for a reason. It's like with the pink motorcycle helmet. Angel has no problem with other people mistaking him for a gay man, so when he doesn't want to wear the ladies' helmet, it's not because it might affect anyone else's perception of him but because he doesn't want to wear that helmet and he didn't get a choice. He likes his dark clothes and he likes his car, and the fake swami accuses him of developing this type of style to cultivate a persona for other people to appreciate without taking into consideration that these things appeal to Angel himself regardless of what strangers think. The only folks that he does actually care about in terms of their impressions of him are his friends, and so he'll correct them (sometimes) when they misinterpret him, but often he lets them think what they want about him, too. Which is maybe why it feels like Angel is so often misunderstood in fandom - because so many fans simply accept other characters' opinions of Angel as if they are fact rather than actually looking at Angel himself. Like with the smiling thing. There's an overwhelming fannish opinion that Angel doesn't smile very much because there are characters in the show who say he should smile more. But outside of serious or dangerous situations, Angel actually smiles all the time, and if it's any less than Wes or Gunn then it's only because he's more often in situations where it would be really weird to be smiling. He's a pleasant guy unless he's been given a reason not to be!

I also headcanon that one of the reasons Angel is so good at pretending to be someone else is because human camouflage is something that is literally built into his physiology as a vampire. Pretending to be something they aren't is a super important skill for all vampires, not just defensively in order to move through the human-dominated world but also as a means of getting close to their primary source of food. Angel spent 150ish years using his human face to deceive his prey while hunting, then a further 100ish years using it to blend in and disappear. Wolf in sheep's clothing, except the sheep's clothing is a really fucking good impression of a normal human being and he can wear it all the time. It comes naturally to vampires to pass as something they're not (we're ignoring the friend of Xanderrrrr's here) and Angel has 250 years of experience of people-watching. If he couldn't do pretty good imitations of different kinds of people by this point, I'd be surprised and disappointed in him.

But also! When we first meet Angel in the show, he's had very little experience interacting with humans while he's trying to be himself and not play some role to accomplish some kind of purpose. He's never had friends before, at least not with a soul, and he has no example of another vampire with a soul to imitate or learn from. He's flying totally blind, navigating unfamiliar territory, AND has conflicting impulses. So when he's insecure about his feelings and actions and expectations in his own life, that is also as natural for him as the confidence when it comes to pretending to be someone else.

Er, thanks for coming to my TED Talk?

#reply #angel the series #i love him your honor

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oh-hell-help-me · 10 months

Text

July 31: National Watermelon Day

Luigi had waited for this day- the moment he planted their seeds, he knew it was guaranteed that he and his family would be eating watermelon.

Up until the start of the month, he thought his chances of grabbing even a slice of the fruit was near zero with him and his brother being in another dimension (or universe… who knows?).

Which makes it an utterly amazing surprise to learn that this world did in fact have watermelon- even if it’s unusually sweet.

So, while he was extremely tempted on just buying the fruit when he wanted, he opted for seeds that will sprout replantable fruit.

The first few weeks had Luigi waiting with bated breath, unsure if the Royal Greenhouse was able to accommodate the seeds or if the seeds were viable at all.

And then he saw the first sprouts.

It was then that Luigi threw himself into the project, sometimes being joined by Roy, and carefully following the steps of watermelon cultivation.

If he was not in the Greenhouse, he was in the library researching fruiting plant care and preparation methods for when the fruit would ripen.

If he was in neither location, Luigi could often be found in the recesses of the castle making his own version of a vacuum sealer.

The only reason he comes out is to spend time with Bowser and the kids (and to avoid being dragged out). Without them, he likely wouldn’t have made it through the three months of tedious cultivation.

Then again, he wouldn’t be doing this at all if not for them.

…

Bowser was concerned for his husband- at first.

The pattern of overwork had been obvious, what with the decreased socialization and self care, but Roy’s involvement had stayed Bowser’s hand.

Then, he realized what Luigi was doing.

For some reason, the new addition of the Greenhouse has been receiving the most attention.

If if wasn’t for the fact that it was just a new plant, Bowser might have been jealous.

(…Okay, he might’ve been a little bit jealous.)

Still, the efforts his husband made to still spend time with him and their kids, in spite of this new addition, was enough to mollify Bowser’s fears.

And, in atypical fashion, he watches the weeks go by as the plants sprout into curly vines that somehow pop out a few pretty flowers.

He watches long after seeing the fliers wilt and be replaced a rapidly growing fruit, getting bigger and bigger into something that almost seemed famil-

Wait.

Really?

Really.

He- why- hmm.

From the near ending of the third month of growth, Bowser is able to corner Luigi in the library, scooping him up in a sneak-hug that rewarded him a high pitched yelp.

“Now, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Um…” Luigi, his cute clueless husband, stutters. “Reading?”

“I meant the watermelons.”

“Oh!” And Bowser nearly looses his train of thought at the nearly blinding beam of a smile that spread across Luigi’s face. “I’m growing some for us!”

“Obviously.” Not really, but Luigi didn’t need to know that. “But why?”

“Well,” Luigi lets himself settle in his arms, craning his head back to meet eyes. “I wanted to share them with our family on Watermelon Day.”

“Another human tradition?”

“Yeah!”

“And did you tell the kids that?”

“Do you think the watermelons would have made it if I did?”

“Roy probably could have reined them in.”

“Probably.”

“And what’s so special about them anyway?”

“Nothing really, just…”

Luigi breaks the eye contact, but the way he fiddled with Bowser’s claws showed a level of anxiety he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Before- before we came here, watermelon used to be one of the few things we could afford to celebrate with- a deal with a grocer, you know? It always tasted particularly sweet after a month of back to back plumbing jobs in the summer, and it always was something to look forward to.”

Bowser doesn’t twitch when Luigi snaps his head up.

“Not that I’m saying that I don’t have that here now! But- but it would be nice to share that tradition, and I…” Luigi looks like he wants to squirm. “I want to see you all enjoy that same bit of happiness.”

Well, who the hell would say that it wasn’t sweet? In fact, as the freaking Koopa King, he is in good authority to say that was the most sugary sweet sentiment he ever heard from his husband’s mouth.

A sentiment that always surprised Bowser, elated him in a way that made words hard to perfectly describe the urge of wanting to smother Luigi in affection.

“You sap.” And he kissed him instead, distantly noting that the fireworks of emotions that always came with it felt burning sweet this time.

Addictive, almost.

By the time they parted, their panting was the only thing breaking the silence of the Library. Until-

“I love you.” Bowser hears those magic words, and feels like he’s falling for Luigi all over again.

“I love you too.”

#bowuigi #NATIONAL HOLIDAY #the last of its kind!#in terms of holiday theme anyway #also #kissing scene #that is purposely vague for my own emotional recovery from the last one I did #ENJOY!

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gabessquishytum · 2 years

Text

I was thinking of turning this into something longer but I actually think it works nicely a little vignette. So I’m posting it here instead of ao3 bc you all deserve it for blowing up that emo worm dream textpost xox

——————

Word count: 1364

Warnings: Angst, references to death of family members including children, references to pregnancy

Ship: Dream/Hob

Because Dreaming Costs Money

There’s nothing like a good old fashioned cry to sort you out and leave you feeling refreshed. Hob has been a firm believer in the power of tears for a good few centuries now. Crying might not fix your problems, but it certainly doesn’t do any harm.

He feels sick with the weight of it, the need to weep. It’s in his stomach, squeezing at him so hard that his abdominals are clenching and he wonders if he’s about to dry heave. He covers his mouth with his hand just in case, feeling his lips tremble. He breathes through his nose, like you’re supposed to. He’s doing everything right. But he can’t be too loud, because his office door isn’t all that thick really, and he doesn’t want anyone to hear him.

He’s sitting on the floor, behind the desk — almost under the desk, actually. If he makes himself very small and very quiet, no one will know that he’s there. He’s breathing through his nose, but every other moment he sobs with his whole chest, and it comes out in an ugly sound through his dry lips.

He’s forgotten her name.

He can remember a few things. The scent of fresh rushes on the floor. Woodsmoke, too. Her hair, the same chestnut brown as his own. Her strong arms laden with bundles of sheep’s wool.

Not her face. That’s long gone, and he’s accepted it as another curve in the passage of time. But her name. He can’t remember his own mother’s name!

He’s never even bothered to write it down, because he could never have imagined needing to. He curses himself, gripping a handful of his own hair, consumed by the urge to scream. What kind of son must he be to lose the memory of his own mother? When was the last time he even thought of her?

The tears are streaming down his face now, and he’s forgotten his intention to be quiet. He wants his Ma, he realises through the haze of grief. He wants her now more than he has in 600 years. Only now, when she is so far gone from him. His fist collides with the wood of the desk and he barely feels the sting, so he does it again and this time his knuckle splits open.

“Stop.” Someone says. There’s only one person, or person shaped thing, who could possibly get through the locked door of Hob’s office. Hob looks up through his blurry eyes and finds Dream just stepping into his line of sight, framed by the sun from the window. Hob makes a strange little whimpering noise and drags the sleeve of his jacket over his face. He doesn’t want Dream to see him like this, so messy and far away from the well-adjusted person he’s cultivated himself into over the last few centuries.

Dream kneels down on the carpet and crawls under the desk beside him. It’s the last thing Hob could have expected, and it tips him into a fresh wave of tears. Dream seizes his hand gently, the one with the bloody knuckles. He cradles it like an injured bird and kisses the cracked and broken skin with the barest brush of lips. He doesn’t tell Hob not to cry. He doesn’t say anything, until Hob is hauling breaths into his lungs and his tears have run out, at least for a little while.

“Sorry.” Hob says thickly. His lips feel numb, in fact his entire body feels as though it doesn’t really belong to him anymore. His back should ache from crouching under the desk, but physical sensations feel very far away just then. The only thing he can really feel is Dream grasping onto his hand.

“Don’t apologise.” Dream says. He shuffles on his bum a couple of inches across the crusty old carpet and puts his hands on Hob’s shoulders. It’s a grounding touch — Dream’s hands always have such a weight and an intention to them. He never does anything by accident.

Hob sniffles. “Just had a really bad day.” He says. “Everything’s sort of overwhelming. Kind of just wish the whole world would go away for a minute, y’know?”

Dream nods. “I understand. There have been many days in which I have wished similarly.” He moves his hand from Hob’s shoulder to the side of his face, thumbing away a spot of wetness and resting his palm on his cheek. Hob hears his own breath shudder through his lungs.

“I really miss her.” He says, almost angrily. “I do.” He isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince. Himself, probably. “Forgetting someone… doesn’t make me a bad person, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. It makes you old. Human. That’s all. You are an extraordinary person, and anyone who has ever loved you would certainly be proud of you.” Dream says, somehow knowing exactly what Hob needs to hear in that particular moment.

Hob sniffs and wipes his face again on his sleeve. He really, really misses the days when everyone carried a handkerchief. He'd do anything for even a kleenex right now. Dream gives him an encouraging little nod.

"I was talking to one of my students today, I knew she'd been having a rough couple of weeks. She came in during my office hours and she told me that she found out last month that she's pregnant. Didn't know what to do or who to tell. Obviously I was a bit useless. Gave her a hug and told her to see a doctor, the usual stuff. I told her she should tell someone other than me. She said she was scared to tell her mum. She didn't want to disappoint anyone. I tried to remind her that no matter how bad we are at showing it, good parents always want their kids to be safe."

"You're right." Dream says softly. He hugs his bony knees up to his chest. "I know that you did the very best for your son."

"So did you. In your own way, in the way you thought best." Hob sniffles, nudging his leg up against Dream’s. "The whole conversation, I was thinking about Robyn. And then… I started thinking about my mother." A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill over and he has to haul up a lungful of breath.

“She was just a really… a really lovely person. Somehow she handled 7 kids, and all of them fucking died when they were babies, apart from me. And she worked every day of her life until the stupid fucking plague took her away.” The urge to punch something is there again, mitigated only by the fact that his hand hurts now, and he's pretty sure Dream would disapprove. He sighs and rubs at his still streaming eyes. "Like I said. I do miss her. She's a part of me, isn't she? It's not that I didn't expect her to die, it's just that I didn't expect to forget her."

"You have not forgotten her. Not her essence." Dream says. "She lives on in you. You remember the things that matter to you."

"But not her name." Hob whispers. "If I'm here, surely part of the point is to remember stuff?"

"The point is whatever you want it to be." Dream says. Coming from anyone else, such words would be meaningless and trite, but Hob really knows that Dream means it. He’d make a good therapist if he could only get past his crippling inability to express himself.

“Sometimes.” Hob says, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. “Sometimes, I think everyone just needs their Ma, even if it’s just for a moment. And there’s few things more painful than knowing that she’s gone.”

“You’re right.” Dream pulls at Hob’s arms, pulls him forward until he’s sprawled on top of Dream in a mess of awkward limbs. “Listen. I remember her name, Hob. And I’ll keep on remembering it for you, long into the future. As long as there are dreams and nightmares and stories.”

Hob hugs him tight, grabbing at the fabric of the familiar and well-loved coat. “Keep her safe for me.” He says, pressing his forehead to Dream’s.

#dreamling #dream x hob #the sandman #the sandman netflix #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #long post

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cheetahsprints · 11 months

Text

Lingyi fic rec list!

In case anyone floats into the tag and needs this. Personal and without review/explanation because brain too rotted. I just adore this tragically non-canon pairing almost as much as our main guys.

💌 trust my love - panpipe - E - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling confesses his feelings, and Lan Jingyi has to muddle through the aftermath. (The aftermath is they're in love.)

🕊️ best friends forever - varnes - T - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged. Things spiral from there.

⚔️ Can’t Keep Holding My Breath - singingintheshower48 - T - Chapters: 2 - Two post-canon snippets about Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi enduring growing pains, enduring a war, and somehow finding their way together.

🔥 how can i find the words to say (love has surely shifted my way) - annadream - G - Chapters: 6 - Jingyi’s steely eyes blazed brighter than the flames surrounding them and in that moment Jin Ling knew he was in love with this loud, obnoxious fool.

📱 the song stuck in my head - poefucker (drbubblegum) - E - Chapters: 7 - Waiting until his third year of college to finish off his last actual gen ed class is absolutely a mistake, and Jingyi proudly admits to it. Public speaking is an unfortunately necessary evil. Or: the juniors have that college experience like the movies show us.

🧞‍♂️ over, sideways, & under - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 10 - Jingyi goes nighthunting. It should be that simple. But somehow, after a fateful encounter with a rude, runaway boy and getting trapped in a cave, he's strongarmed into bringing disaster upon the whole of the cultivation world by summoning the infamous Yiling Laozu for unknown purposes. Except now he grants wishes and is actually really funny for an evil spirit. Weird.

🙇‍♂️could someone call a referee - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 1 - The one where they go to prom.

📦 all there’s left to do is run - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 1 - Lan Jingyi helps his professor move in with his husband. The day doesn't end up like he expected.

🐇 what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? - taetaeloveschimmy - Not Rated - Chapters: 6 - Jin Ling is in love with Lan Jingyi and he's not exactly thrilled that he's finding this out about himself. Meanwhile, Jingyi is also grappling with his own emotions and complicated history with Jin Ling, leaving both of them unsure of where they stand with each other.

📑 A Guide to Dumbasses Getting Together - Midori_99 - T - Chapters: 5 - Lan Jingyi pines, in poetic melancholy fashion like a true Lan, bemoaning his fate of falling in love with someone as difficult as that Spoilt Mistress Jin. Too bad his love would forever be unrequited and there's no way Jin Ling would ever look at him that way! Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen would like to disagree. "Mission: Get an overworked Jin Ling to rest and an idiotic Lan Jingyi to stop pining and just confess already, commence!"

📝 Jin Ling’s Heart Is So Big Because It’s Full of Bad Poetry - corduroyserpent - G - Chapters: 1 - If Jin Ling had learned anything about love in his sixteen years of being alive, it was this: love made people crazy. Sometimes love made you do things like write horrifically bad poetry. It happens!

💝 Oh no- Jiujiu!!! - You_know_yeah - M - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling takes a break and fucks off to the Cloud Recesses to "study". Jiang Wanyin follows with the threat of paperwork and leg breaking. All Jin Ling wants to do is kiss his boyfriend and chill :(

🦊 Chasing Gold - albsyant (transtobio) - T - Chapters: 9 - Jin Ling expected this to be just a regular night hunt, but it didn’t even last a day before disaster struck.

Lan Jingyi, meanwhile, had no idea what to do with the fox that seemed determined to cuddle against him 24/7. What had done this to Jin Ling, and could he please get his prickly cru-friend back?

🌧️ bending the clouds - Jenki - G - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling's father left him destined to become a leader of the earthbending sect but he didn't leave him his earthbending skills. On the other hand, his mother's waterbending talent was the reason for all of his problems. But he had learned how to isolate himself and hide his secrets and feelings from everyone.Until one day an airbender from Gusu discovered his secret and, with the help of his friends, began to do his best to make Jin Ling feel loved.

👨‍🏫 just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t go to college - theinkquiry - T - Chapters: 1 - “So Lan Jingyi asked you for help to get Professor Wei and Professor Lan together. Does… does he not realize they’re already married?”

“No.” Jin Ling rolled his eyes. “Because he’s an idiot.”

#Lingyi #jin ling #lan jingyi #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the junior quartet #mdzs juniors #fic recs #fic rec list #lingyi fic recs

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cuddleyhoney · 5 months

Note

hey darling , can i request smutty john wick x reader (Maybe Meena Tarasov 😉😍) fic.

Maybe John comes home stressed and Meena prepares him a nice evening so that he quickly forgets his stress.

hii I was bored so I thought I would try and write something for this sorry i'm late also happy new year lol <3

john wick x oc mena tarasov

brief context -

-The bond that Meena and John cultivated throughout the past year created a cozy and affectionate lifestyle. Frequently, Meena would linger at his place, spending evenings together after delightful dinners or indulging in weekend sleepovers that added a touch of warmth to their connection.

It being the cold winter John invited you to spend the week with him during the holidays. He still had to work on most days though, which led her to being at home with "dog/mochi"! -

6:31 am

The sun was glimmering through the floor to ceiling windows you notice John start to shuffle in the sheets and wake up. As usual he performed with his normal routine of making coffee for himself and watching the morning news. After 10-15 minutes he went to shower later then going to work.

Meena hated the "old fashioned" morning routine John had. She wished she could just stay in bed for a couple more hours with him just to relax and be close to each other. After John left she slept for a couple more hours, I mean she's just a girl right?

Around 9:45 Meena awakened

(second pov)

Hearing the quiet yet noticeable pitter-patter of John's beloved dog walking into the bedroom was a sign that he needed some "outside time". John's dog you nicknamed "Mochi" really loved you and enjoyed attention from you.

In her adorable pajamas walking over towards the large shared bathroom she and John shared. Glancing at the counter and seeing the small area of her own personal items like skin care and makeup took over made you smile. Meena made her way to the glass doored shower to clean herself up for the day.

Time passed and Meena spent most of her time just hanging out with the dog, online shopping and baking cookies. She later fell asleep on the sofa watching YouTube. Until the sound of the garage woke her up she realized John was home.

Meena greeted her love with a warm smile and sprinted over to him with a hug. He loved your soft cuddles but this specific evening he seemed a bit more firm than usual. He have you a couple kisses then he released you from his arms and went to his office.

With such discomfort and tensity plastered on his face you worried if something bad happened? with work or maybe you annoyed him? maybe it was road rage from driving through the busy new york city streets?

Meena let John have maybe 12 to 15 minutes of quiet time to himself but she couldn't worry alone much longer. She left her comfy chair near the island counter she was in to work on the idea she planned. A small ice cream session with John!!

Preparing the adorable comfort snack with sprinkles and caramel syrup in small bowls, she placed both bowls on the table then quickly skipping to Johns office.

John noticed the sound of her foot steps immediately and stood up as soon as the door was opened. He greeted her saying "Hi Bunny". That was one of the nicknames he gave you. You looked at John with nothing but pure intention and grabbed his hand to lead him to the dining area where the ice cream was.

He stared in shock of the small gesture Meena made for him. He didn't have much growing up and was rarely given anything nice, so this was a big deal for him. The two love birds sat and conversed whilst having their delicious treat.

John finished eating and then placed his hand on top of her with his fingers moving slowly and taking in her beauty as the night went on. The two didn't want the night to go to waste but noticed the night was passing.

He then made then asked the small yet intense question saying "Would you like to visit me in the bathroom in five minutes?" a sparkle lit in her eyes and she nodded her head softly whilst blushing.

Quickly Meena raced to wash the dishes whilst John walked over to their beloved shower...

Meena looked at herself in front of the mirror making sure she looks good, checking if her eyebrows were in place or if she had any crumbs on her face. Then practically sprinting over to the bathroom and knocking on the door.

*knock knock* Meena ask gently "Can I come in?" hoping this situation is more than him just giving her a back massage and bath something more intimate.

John quickly opens the door to see Meena in her cute sweat pants and delicate top but for Meena all she is seeing is a very bare version of John. Her heart began to race with arousal. He pulled her hand into the bathroom and led her to the shower. He slowly undressed her let her check if the water was at a good temperature for her.

The two of them slowly started to bathe themselves but they both knew they wanted to do more than that. Meena's soft tanned hand made its way to Johns chest feeling the warmth of his body. John looked at her with water droplets dripping from his hair he used his own hand to move hers guiding it lower to his wait and made a small smirk...

Meena lowered herself on to her knees trying not to break eye contact with him. She grabbed his "shaft" and looked down then right back at him. He looked at her with so much love and put his hands on the side of her cheeks then saying "Please continue".

She took his length slowly but steadily hoping it was enough for him, he began to massage her neck and shoulders to ease any tensity she may have. His soft grunts made her so weak.

He tapped her on the shoulder and memoed her to stop. He wanted her to feel good too. John lifted her by the waist and had her back towards the wall, He glanced at her once she made the small "oh my god remark" smiling at how courageous he can be at time. He looked back at her to make sure he had her consent and she nodded heavily wanting him to continue.

John inserted himself into her and instantly felt a form relaxation. Luckily shes on birth control so there's no need to worry for any issues. John paced himself to make sure he didn't hurt or make any tears or marks on her skin. He left small kisses all across her waist and face. His small "I love yous" left her feeling like a princess...

The night ended with the two cuddle buddies snug in bed with facial moisturizer on and vanilla-scented lotion. Their pure bliss was so strong it radiated through their entire home.

the end for now

thank you for reading!!

#john wick #john wick x y/n #john wick headcanons #john wick x reader #john wick au #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves #john wick imagine #fanfic

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rarepears · 1 year

Note

more sqq harem pls 🙏

Qi Qingqi is still going to make disparaging comments about Shen Jiu. Like "oh so he prefers mortal women because they can't pose any threat to him" and "interesting how none of these women have families that could protect them or even make a fuss about Shen Jiu's vile actions... he preys on the weak and helpless". Naturally she also doesn't let go of the opportunity to scoff at Shen Jiu's "arrogance, parading about like he's an emperor with so many in his harem" since cultivators pretty much never have harems - that's such a mortal thing to do.

Because Shen Jiu now has a harem, he can no longer live in his bamboo cottage - it's far too crowded for three to live in, much less a whole harem of a dozen women. Thus, Shen Jiu finds himself moving into the ostentatious manor that was his shizun's residence before he ascended.

Shen Jiu didn't really spend much money before; other than the veneer of wealth that he imposed upon himself - really, how many outfits and hair crowns did he really need to buy for himself when the sect leader always piled so much finery upon him, as though he was afraid that Shen Jiu's low upbringing would be revealed through his taste in fashion - he lived very frugally and simply. His bamboo cottage was modest and had few decorations. What few decorations on the walls were indeed considered expensive luxuries, but that was only because it was handmade by Shen Qingqiu himself.

But now that he has a group of women all depending upon him - not just depending on his actions but also his reputation because he knew that everyone would be taking their cues on how to interact and respect, or not respect, his "concubines" from him - Shen Jiu knew he had to change things. Merely ensuring they were dressed in expensive silks and fed the finest meals were only the bare essentials. He arranges ways for his ladies to show off their talents - and truly, they are talented in the arts in ways that cultivators, always arrogantly looking down on mortals and especially on prostitutes and women, never expect - in addition to teaching them new skills so that they can help him manage the peak.

His peak learns that to disobey his concubines is to earn the most severe punishments. But... in a way, they've also gained a dozen new mothers motherhenning over them.

(Not that teenagers appreciate that in the moment.)

Moreover, he has to manage - mediate - any disagreements between his concubines; thankfully none are those harem plots, perhaps because they are all aware that they are surrounded by cultivators who are not pleased by their presence in the sect at all or perhaps they've heard enough of Shen Jiu's complaints to add up that the sect was full of hostile ill-intent individuals. Luckily, the older courtesans (who've also known Shen Jiu longer) help him manage the arguments over missing garments and fights over the last slice of the cake.

[More in the #liu qingge is the reason why shen jiu has a harem now AU]

#svsss ideas #svsss #scum villain self saving system #the scum villain's self saving system #svsss au #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #liu qingge is the reason why shen jiu has a harem now AU

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dailytomlinson · 1 year

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Exclusive: previously unseen pictures show the quiet, cool style of Louis Tomlinson

We take a look at the casual, cold style of Louis Tomlinson, with exclusive images from his tour.

(Full article with pictures under cut)

The alumni of One Direction have flourished since going solo, and along with their distinct music style, they’ve each forged their own personal style. Whilst Zayn likes a metallic flash with Versace and collaborating on embellished accessories, Niall has embraced the his U.S centric fanbase – opting for collegiate-cool – and crafty-folksy-maximalism has found Harry Styles, it’s Louis Tomlinson’s wardrobe that’s piqued our interest of late.

We’ve been able to take a good look at the singer as he traverses the globe on his Faith in the Future world tour and the film premiere trail for his documentary All of Those Voices. Louis’ stylist, Helen Seamons has tapped into lad culture, blending it with fashion, with football shirts, oversized Burberry checks, and bespoke Carlsberg motif knits from Adam Jones, that give a fresh take on nostalgia. There is a playfulness to the bolder pieces that the singer wears, that both modernises and also references the Brit pop icon era of Blur and Oasis, with touches of streetwear from Adidas, smiley motifs from Raf Simons and and the trusty Brit-pop staple, the polo shirt. Quite fitting as Louis scored a number one on the UK charts for his album Faith in the Future late last year.

In terms of the the polo shirt, the devil is in the detail. Louis loves a polo, but he knows he can’t just bring out the Fred Perry when on tour, his fans wouldn’t allow it. Working with Seamons, Louis has cultivated a tactile, super-lux wardrobe with knitted pieces from Denzil Patrick, Dries Van Noten mesh, Balmain prints and heritage collegiate Bode that give a louder aesthetic on stage. This subtle, detailed-orientation flows through into the formalwear, with intricate Bottega Veneta shirts, suits from one of his trusty favourites, Neil Barrett and metal clasped Givenchy suits. Keeping his wardrobe authentic to himself, the suits are paired with monochrome tank and tee and sometimes trainers, to ensure that the look is effortless yet casual. It’s a clean style. We hate using the word ‘quiet’ when paired with fashion (Succession bore the brunt of the internet for suggesting their bog-standard wardrobe was ‘quiet luxury’) but here, there is a case for it. Louis style isn’t over the top, but it’s carefully detailed and considered and very cool.

#louis tomlinson #160523 #article #rolling stones uk #louis' style

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louisupdates · 1 year

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ROLLING STONE UK

Exclusive: previously unseen pictures show the quiet, cool style of Louis Tomlinson

We take a look at the casual, cold style of Louis Tomlinson, with exclusive images from his tour.

By JOSEPH KACHARIAN | 16 MAY 2023 3:18 PM

Louis wearing Burberry for his Australia show (Image provided/Photographer: Charlie Lightening)

Louis wearing Denzil Patrick for the L.A Premiere of All those Voices (Image provided: Exclusive to Rolling Stone UK/Photography Joshua Halling)

Louis wearing Neil Barrett in Tokyo premiere of All of Those Voices (Image provided/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Top: Louis wearing Givenchy for the London premiere of All of Those Voices (Image provided/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Bottom: Louis performing in Bottega Veneta in Mexico (Image provided: Exclusive to Rolling Stone UK/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Top: Louis performing in Adidas in Mexico (Image provided/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Bottom: Louis wears Balmain in Milan (Image provided/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Top: Louis performing in Raf Simons in Paraguay (Image provided/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

Bottom: Louis performing in Bottega Veneta in Mexico (Image provided: Exclusivel for Rolling Stone UK/Photographer: Joshua Halling)

#rolling stone uk #louis tomlinson #16.5.2023 #louis fashion

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jacksgreysays · 5 months

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"riding the current" - uzumaki kareru and the traits he inherited from the people who raised him, especially team 7! since i love how in one of the drabbles he mentioned learning to lie with a smile from ino

A/N: Kareru, my sweet boy! :D Thank you for requesting him, anon! I actually had to reread his tagged posts because it’s been a while (also, apparently he learns how to lie with a smile from Yoshino not Ino, but I truly understand the vibe) I actually, weirdly enough, DON’T want to write about Team Seven? Like, they’re obviously so integral to his life and how he grows up, but I’m almost more curious about what my brain will churn out regarding what he learns from everyone else—I hope you don’t mind? Hopefully it’s still enjoyable, anon!

—

Riding the Current, a Kareru Uzumaki ficlet

Kareru is the heir to a lost village, a clan whose name still shakes the world, and a legacy that he will one day have to rediscover and rebuild.

He is raised by three cosmically powerful beings who are practically gods amongst mortals; what traits he may or may not inherit from them are of his own choosing.

—

Sakura-oba teaches Kareru that his parents are only human.

“Please stay in bed,” Sakura-oba says with a smile on her face that adds a silent “or else.”

Mum, leaning forward, one foot out and almost touching the floor, slowly slumps back into a resting position. She pulls her leg back onto the hospital bed almost as an afterthought.

Kareru, because he is a good son, helps tuck the blanket around her.

Sakura-oba then turns to him with a far less threatening smile on her face, “If she tries to leave before I say so, you know how to reach me.”

Kareru, because he is a very good son and an even better nephew, obediently nods his head in agreement.

—

Kareru learns how to manage his appearance from Ino-neechan which is a surprise to absolutely no one. Considering his parents and their styles (or lack thereof) she’s really the best choice when it comes to fashion advice. The extra lessons about certain looks cultivating different first impressions on people—and how those impressions can influence future interactions with those people—are also helpful.

He learns how to manage his presence from Uncle Chouji which also shouldn’t be a surprise but somehow is to some people. Although, that might say more about how talented Uncle Chouji is at managing his own presence than anything else.

Kareru is a protector: he might not have the same physical build, but he knows what he looks like. He knows how to make the most of his bright appearance, his loud personality, how to make himself a flashy target so that enemies don’t pay attention to his teammates. Look at me, focus on me! They don’t notice the tree roots reaching up to entangle their limbs or the red eyes ensnaring them in a different way until it’s too late.

And when he and his team are not in danger, Kareru knows to tone it down. Knows how to be a listening ear and a comforting shoulder and a helping hand, just like Uncle Chouji.

—

TenTen-sensei is literally his jounin sensei: he learns so much from her, it’s hard to pick out a specific moment or skill or lesson that epitomizes their relationship.

But Kareru does pick something up from her and her teammates that he thinks she didn’t mean to show him.

“You have to be more careful,” TenTen-sensei hisses between clenched teeth, furiously scribbling out tag after tag of chameleon camouflage and air barriers and healing.

Uncle Lee bows in apology, a near perfect right angle, until Neji-oji yanks him back upright, presumably out of concern for his cracked ribs.

Kareru is practicing his stealth—it’s harder for him than his teammates. Mirai is a genjutsu specialist and Shachi can blend in with the trees; meanwhile Kareru has the chakra reserves of someone four times his age, a churning sea of energy that makes it obvious to any sensor worth their title—but he didn’t think he had improved this much.

But TenTen-sensei is, understandably, distracted.

“You have to be more careful,” TenTen-sensei repeats, handing over the stack of tags. “We don’t have that much clout to protect us if we fuck up, and Gai-sensei won’t always be around to do it for us.”

Uncle Lee, in perhaps the quietest and most somber tone Kareru has ever heard him, says, “Things are better now, TenTen. We all made it to jounin. You’re a sensei to three amazing genin. My Eternal Rival and I are part of the Hokage’s Guard. We are all valued members of Konoha. It’s not like how it used to be.”

But TenTen-sensei’s frown doesn’t go away. She looks to Neji-oji’s forehead for a moment, before turning back to Uncle Lee.

“Some things still are,” she says instead. Uncle Lee, as if he cannot help himself, also glances at Neji-oji’s forehead before looking away.

Neji-oji doesn’t react to them. But he does silently turn his face in the direction of where Kareru has been hiding.

He flees before anything else can happen. Considering their speed, he knows they let him.

TenTen-sensei doesn’t mention anything the next time he sees her, so Kareru stays quiet, too.

—

Kareru learns about a good poker face not from Shino-sensei, but from Uncle Kiba.

“I’ll admit, it took me a while when we were brats, but it’s easy to read him now,” Uncle Kiba says, one arm thrown around Shino-sensei’s shoulders, the other hand gesturing to his face as if part of a grand presentation. “His face doesn’t move much, but that just means when you can see something move he’s really feeling something. So obvious.”

Kareru gets what he means. During the early part of the Academy, many of Kareru’s classmates did thought their teacher was emotionless, but Kareru could tell that he was a kind man despite the monotonous voice and expressionless face. It’s as he got older could he tell what certain eyebrow furrows meant, the barest flattening of a mouth, the tilt of a head—not expressionless, just different expression.

Like right now, Kareru can tell that Shino-sensei is annoyed with Uncle Kiba, but also fondly putting up with him.

“Now take this handsome mug,” Uncle Kiba says, gesturing to his own face. “Yeah it’s swoon worthy, but it’s also great at hiding what I think.”

“It doesn’t have much to hide,” Shino-sensei posits, teasing.

Uncle Kiba just shakes him with the grip around his shoulders. Reward for the witty joke or retaliation? Kareru can’t tell.

“I’ve only ever cracked on one mission since I made chuunin,” Uncle Kiba says. Shino-sensei doesn’t contradict him, which does imply he’s telling the truth. “It has to do with Land of the Moon but, well, I’ll give up storytelling rights on this one.”

Uncle Kiba’s grin doesn’t give anything away.

—

The dangers of good intentions: a lesson not from any one person, but gleaned from careful observation and unspoken consequences.

“Be careful Kareru-kun,” Kaka-jiichan says, before opening the vault and stepping aside to let him pass. Inside are some of Konoha’s greatest secrets, some from the founding era. Some from before it. “You’re walking a very narrow path.”

Kareru is reminded of TenTen-sensei’s warning through clenched teeth, of Uncle Chouji’s switch between loud and quiet protector, of a grin that only ever cracked once, and Mum, in a hospital bed, more human than god.

Kareru smiles and lies, “I won’t cause any trouble.”

—

A/N: … I’ll be honest, anon, I went into, like, a fugue state and that’s what shook out. I thiiiink it’s because my brain keeps wanting to touch back on the Primadonna Girl ‘verse even though this isn’t specifically in that universe, nor do I necessarily think that this is what Kareru is up to if he were in that universe. But, like, I still am wondering about what is going on with the Caged Bird Seal and if that has been addressed—by which I mean, why hasn’t Shikako (or TenTen) addressed it already? And like, my brain maybe went… okay, this is a clan/clout thing, then obviously TenTen can’t, even if she’s the non-Hyuuga with the most investment in getting rid of it. Then why hasn’t Shikako? And, like, even if this isn’t Primadonna Girl ‘verse in which she went briefly feral and had to disavow her name and shinobi reputation, there still might be some… clans can’t interfere in other clan business without war being declared type of thing where maybe she’s working on it in secret but can’t actually do anything with it? Whereas, Kareru MAYBE has some legal wiggle room to actually come up with a counter to Caged Bird Seal because if Boruto and Himawari are nominally Uzumaki, then he’s their clan head. So there is some reasonable concern about the Hyuuga putting a torture/slave seal on members of another clan, even if they do have the Byakugan. So it’s… uh... preemptive measures? And obviously he would need to, like, TEST it on someone. And, you know, his jounin sensei HAPPENS to be teammates with the Branch Hyuuga who's seal was put on him the youngest(? I think?) so... you know... totally legal? To be fair, he gets his troublemaking tendencies from all three of his parents which Kakashi already knows and which is why he’s enabling this. Oops, this is almost definitely not what you wanted, anon, but I hope it was entertaining anyway.

#jacksgreyson #anonymous #ask box advent calendar #you and me and baby (makes fifteen)#kareru uzumaki #dreaming of sunshine #fanfiction #writing #brainstorm #primadonna girl (says no thank you)

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aboyshapeddog · 2 months

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WIP ⚠️

Staci “No Survival Instincts” Pratt’s Night Out

Relationships: Staci Pratt/Jacob Seed

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamic, Smut, Alchohol Use, NonCult Au, Jacob is a Creep, Rough S*x, BDSM, Bondage, Biting, Age Difference (duh), Knives, Toys

Spending his off nights in the local bar had become more of a routine than an outing. Less getting dressed up, more finding the cleanest shirt left in his hamper not too threadbare to wear in public. One beer into his solo pregame, after catching his reflection in the admittedly dirty mirror, it struck him. Staci Pratt was too young for this shit, to be throwing his night away like he’s got nothing better to do.

So he straightened out, showered, spritzed on a little too much cologne, and combed back his hair so it curled neatly behind his ears. Tonight the very off-duty Deputy would allow himself a real night out; a night in some thigh hugging jeans, and an appropriately too tight t-shirt, even if it meant Joey spending half the time ribbing him for it. So, he was back on track to the Spread Eagle, but decidedly not to mope and nurse a glass whatever they had on tap for the next hour.

It was dingy and dark when he arrived, the air had a permanent heaviness from smoke, and the smell of stale beer. The nostalgia almost let him disregard the way his shoes would stick to the floor in some areas, from the copious amounts of spilled drinks that found their way to the old wood. Joey had somehow convinced the Junior Deputy, and Sharky Boshaw to come out with her for a night of real partying, perfect. Staci was three drinks in before he agreed to some old fashioned two stepping with his fellow deputies, four before the banda music started sounding like a personal call to action, and five before right now; feeling the rhythm beating in his chest, Staci attempted some kind of lasso move with the just as inebriated Deputy Hudson- then boom.

They were both slingshotted in opposite directions with enough momentum to send Joey into the loving drink-filled embraces of Rook and Sharky, and Staci into- Huh, that wall he bumped into was interestingly placed . . . and moving, oh man. Even swaying on his feet, Staci did his best to reflect the character of the friendly neighborhood Deputy, “Oh I’m real sorry, Sir I did not see you there”, his face was hot from the drinks and embarrassment, his drawl becoming much more pronounced with each.

This was new, there weren’t many people in the county that Officer Pratt wouldn’t immediately recognize, it just came with the territory of living and working in such a secluded area, and here was this big, big, man, fiery hair, thick beard to match, and ice cold eyes, this was a face he would’ve remembered. The Deputy lifted his hands in a no-harm-done gesture, drinking in the sight of the massive man now looming above him, who didn’t seem to react. The stranger stood still, looking the younger man up and down very slowly, before grunting an acknowledgement. Staci blinked a few times, deciding the interaction had indeed ended, turning back to his party. “Jesus Stace, next rodeo they’re hosting I’ll have to tell them to forget the bull and just call you.” Joey snickered, egging a round of laughter from the group. “Oh ha ha, Joey. While you’re on the phone, why don’t you call up Whitehorse and report the illegal construction of the Splash Zone you’re cultivating over here." The tense energy of the situation seemed to evaporate immediately, each of them feeding off the other’s excitement.

Alright, not gonna ruin his night! Well, it wouldn’t have if he wasn’t so damn clumsy. It had been close to another hour before Staci made the mistake of running into the stranger again, almost literally. A bit too much commitment to a save in the alcohol fueled “Hope County Sheriff’s Department Ping Pong Tournament” (with celeb serves from Sharky) sent him stumbling straight into the same guy as before, was this karma?

Time seemed to move a second faster than his brain could catch up with. The man grabbed him by his shirt collar, large hot hands closing their distance fast, “Are you looking for a fight, kid?” he growled and it showed his sharp white teeth. For a second neither moved a muscle, piercing blue eyes locking on to his own; Staci could feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the alcohol, his cologne, and skin. Their noses could have touched, and the closeness made him shiver. Joey immediately made a move to step in, always the protector, before Staci waved her off with a quick nod and a sheepish smile. His heart was beating out of his chest, “No Sir, listen I’m real sorry about that-” he was interrupted “Yeah, you said that.” The man’s previously full whisky glass had found itself empty, dispersed between the bartop and his freshly soaked t-shirt. “Hey listen I don’t mean any trouble, really.” Staci reasoned, offering a charming grin as he pressed both hands to the man's wide chest for leverage. “You seem like a, uh, reasonable man. My place is five minutes from here, how about we grab you a new shirt, and-and I'll grab you another drink alright? Sounds square to me.”

The larger man considered it for a moment, visibly relaxing and releasing his hold, “Yeah. Alright.” he grunted. Thank God for small favors, and of course work mandated de-escalation training. Staci smiled again, this time with genuine ease “Alright alright, my cars on this side of the lot, Mr. . .” he paused, turning around to look at his soon to be house guest as he led them both to the door. “Jacob.” he said curtly, “And you’re not driving, even if you weren’t tripping over your own ass just a second ago.” Ouch. He scoffed “Well, we might as well walk then, I just saw you with a drink in your hand just a minute ago, didn’t I?”. Jacob was just as quick on his feet, “Well Columbo, due to some unforeseen circumstances I didn’t really get to drink it.” Oh. Right. Staci was red again.

The Deputy waved quickly and gestured toward the door for Rook, who gave him a comically serious salute, and went right back to riling up Hudson and Boshaw with more trash talk. Joey’s voice echoed through the bar as the two strangers made it through the door “You take that back you son of a bitch or this paddle’s going right up your-” They’d probably be going home together tonight.

Staci had sobered up a little by now, thanks to the glasses of water Hudson had practically force fed him throughout their game, and the icy night air outside the bar. “Alright big guy, looks like you’re driving. I’ll just direct you, it's not too far down the main road.” Staci could see his breath when he talked. “Good.” Staci turned to look at the man- turned to look at Jacob and found his gaze already met, those shiny white teeth on display again. Something twisted warmly in his stomach, he smiled back and let out a short uneasy laugh. The Deputy couldn't help but feel like he caught a fox about to sneak into the hen house, “Yeah. Good, alright”.

It was a short drive, but between the passing beams of headlights Staci still had enough time to think about how stupid it was to give big, violent, strangers armed with 6-inch hunting knives your home address. “Yeah and just a right down here.” Oh well. His house looked smaller from the windshield of the truck, glowing under the headlights’ beam like a beacon in the surrounding woods. “Here we are.” Staci chirped, hopping down and out of the vehicle. He took a few seconds with his keys, practiced hands maneuvering around his loaded key ring like a pianist. “Home sweet home” Staci said more to himself than his guest, “I wasn’t really expecting company so it’s uh- well it is what it is.”

Jacob allowed himself to be silently herded through the entryway to the kitchen, taking in the organized chaos. “You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, drinks, um yeah. I’ll be right back with something that’ll fit you.” The host excused himself politely. He rummaged through his drawers as quickly as possible, he thought of Jacob’s curled arm holding him in place, his shoulders, biceps, everything were huge . . . Not exactly the point Staci back on track, what did he have with such forgiving sleeves? He walked out of his bedroom talking, “Sir or uh, Jacob, I hope you’re alright with this. I don’t think I’ve got much in your size.” His voice trailed off as he re-entered the kitchen, eyes landing on two faux crystal glasses sitting on the countertop and his cheap bottle of bourbon next to them.

He didn’t have a minute to consider the offer before Jacob was removing his shirt; light cotton stretching over taut muscles and skin. Staci short-circuited. “Wa- hold on a minute-”, his pleas fell on deaf ears. He watched as the red-head finished removing his still damp t-shirt, and reached out for the fresh one; which Staci could have handed over if he wasn’t occupied charting the map of the other man’s torso. “See something you like?” Jacob teased sarcastically, but he was right. “I get it, most people haven’t seen scars this big before.” the older man reasoned, pulling a tight top from the Deputy’s loose grasp and over his chest. Staci stumbled to close his mouth and find his words again. “No. I mean, Ye- I don't mean, uh, I’m sorry it’s not polite to stare, you're just ripped.” Fuck his big mouth, he couldn’t play it casual if his life depended on it. There was a beat of silence and Staci contemplated leaving his own house out of embarrassment. Staci took a breath, “What I mean is-” Jacob interrupted him again, thank God “What you mean is, you invited me under false pretenses, Deputy.” Yes. Wait, No. What? “That’s alright sweetheart, you’re a pretty little thing I’m not bothered by it.” Jacob reasoned.

“Sidling up to me at the bar, inviting me back to yours to get my wet clothes off, I should’ve seen right through that good samaritan schtick.” The stranger needled at Pratt, watching him get more flustered with every word, he didn’t even remember telling this guy he was a deputy. “Now you hold on a minute, I was just trying to-” Jacob was right in his space again, looming over him, filling all of his senses, it made him shy under the scrutiny. “I just wanted to make up for giving you a hard time at the bar.” he said, creating just enough space between them to get a good look at Jacob, “Not that I’d mind sharing a drink with you.”. They were still close, barely a foot between them, the sound of each other's breaths becoming the loudest thing in the small house.

The scent of Jacob’s cologne felt more intoxicating than anything Staci had sampled earlier, he stepped closer. “And uh, I’m a pretty little thing?” Staci preened a little under the praise that had been doted on him. “Oh sure.” Jacob took Staci’s chin in his hand, “Well, when you’re not spilling a drink on me, you’re so sweet you make sugar taste like salt.” Staci scoffed at that, and went to turn his head away. Jacob’s grip tightened slightly, holding Staci where he was, holding their eyes on one another’s, Staci let him. “Tell me, Is a drink all you wouldn’t mind sharing with me?” Jacob’s voice was so low in his throat it could’ve been a growl, and Staci’s body reacted like it was one; starting at the nape of his neck, every little hair oh him came to stand on end.

The younger man’s cheeks flushed, now he was trying to think of a single reason he should say no. In the place of an answer, Staci leaned in slowly, studying Jacob’s face some more before pressing a soft plush kiss to his lips. Then another, and another, slightly parting his lips as he moved to the corner of Jacob’s mouth. The older man stood still, staring down at Staci as he moved from peppering soft kisses to his cheek to his knuckles, then the inside of the palm of the hand that had just been pressed under his chin. Jacob struck then, like a viper; in one fluid motion removing his hand from Staci’s, and squeezing his cheeks between his thumb, middle, and index fingers.

Then, as quickly as Staci recognized their change of pace, he felt a hot tongue lick across his open mouth. “dios mio” he breathed. Jacob had already pulled back, admiring Staci’s flushed pink face and wet lips. He gripped the younger man tighter, “Is this what you want, I don’t play gentle, kid.” Staci felt faint, like he was falling under hypnosis “uh, y-yeah.” His heart pounded in his chest. “Good.”

Jacob was on him like a wild animal, biting into kisses, sucking his tongue, and the air from his lungs. Staci gripped Jacob’s (actually his own) t-shirt to keep him steady, nearly losing his balance as he was ravaged by the larger man before him.

His trance was only broken as Jacob pulled his wet lips away to focus on unbuckling his belt from his pants; as Jacob leaned back he watch a strand of saliva connecting their mouths snap in the air, it made him dizzy. Staci’s eagerness forced him to reach down to help undo the belt; his hands were batted away just as fast, and he was turned around. “I’m in charge, you wait.” Jacob’s voice brooked no argument.

So Staci had none when the belt made its way around his wrists, or when he was lovingly hostage walked down the hall to his bedroom with Jacob breathing down his neck.

“Bend Over.” the older man commanded, placidly, like he was saying ‘Hello’. Staci felt himself being pushed into position on his bed anyways, like a dog learning a command by force. With a firm hand Jacob then yanked down the deputy’s tight jeans, revealing lacy pink panties. “Oh, Staci. They must’ve sent you from heaven.” Jacob sighed, sliding a finger under the lace lined elastic and pulling it back to snap it against the skin, then moving to caress his ass like it was the world in his hands. “Ya know, kid,” Jacob started, groping the younger man as he spoke “I’m a little surprised you’d let a stranger tie you up like this.” His large hands moved around Staci’s waist, smoothing over the soft skin there and settling just above the brunette’s hips. “A big, mean, stranger.” The red head pulled the hips in his hands flush against his own, hard, smiling as Staci’s muscles flexed beneath him. The smaller man could no doubt feel the sizable bulge pressed between his cheeks. “I could do anything to you.” He growled.

The words processed in Staci’s mind a moment later, lost in the sensations, there was that hot, uneasy, feeling again. “Oh- oh yeah, and what are you gonna to do to me?” he asked, shifting his hips backwards against the larger man, and Jacob seemed to consider.

The silence hung heavy in the air between them, Staci waiting waiting waiting, listening to the rustling of clothes behind him. Then the skin of teeth pressing gently to the back of his neck, his body jerked at the contact, Jacob blew out a laugh. “I’m gonna..” a kiss was pressed to his neck, “Huff” kiss “And puff” kiss “And blow your house down.” Staci squirmed as the hot breath condensed on his neck, and belly laughed. “What the fuck man, you are so weird.” Jacob rumbled a laugh behind him, but when he tried to turn around, his head was pressed back into the mattress.

Jacob’s rough hands spread his legs, squeezing the bulge in his panties. Staci’s legs folded beneath him, moaning at the contact, God it had been a while. Luckily Jacob was holding him steady, moving to smooth the heel of his palm down over the expanse of Staci’s back. “But first.” Staci’s ears perked up at the sound of his voice, “I’m gonna eat you alive.” This guy was such a creep. Jacob rolled him over then, Staci’s brows were knitted but a smile sat lazily on his face.

Jacob held his eye contact, slowly kneeling in front of the smaller man, and slotting his bearded face between muscular thighs. He kissed there too, hot and open mouthed to Staci’s clothed dick, then chaste and delicate, focusing entirely on the smooth skin of his inner thighs. He covered them in hard sucking kisses, nips, then bites, and licks to soothe them over. Staci’s legs spasmed, pink and purple bruises blooming on the sensitive skin while all he could do was pant, whine, and shift his weight so he wasn’t crushing his own fingers. “Fuck Jacob” he panted, and bit his lips closed, embarrassed by how needy he sounded.

The older man didn’t seem to mind, taking some pity and pulling out his massive hunting knife. He caught Staci’s eye as he sliced through the thin fabric of his panties in one motion, exposing him to the cool air of the bedroom. Pratt panted harder, heart racing, and cock jumping as Jacob ran the cool flat end of the knife from his base to his tip. The reflective silver glinted in the moonlight, entrancing the deputy in the same manner as Jacob’s blue eyes and shiny white canines.

Jacob hummed, sliding the knife back into its sheath and taking one hand to slide Staci’s shirt up, his skin rough against the deputy’s soft belly. Then back down, slowly, slowly, to the tip of his cock. Jacob pressed two fingers against the wet head, hooking a thumb around him and rubbing hard over the precum forming delicate pearls on the tip. Staci keened loud, cutting himself off with a gasp, when Jacob gave a wet kiss to his member. Then he licked slowly up the length to suck on the tip, hard. “Jesus Christ, Jacob.” Staci allowed his head to fall back and mouth open, desperate noises flowing out of him with every movement. The larger man bobbed up and down, sucking and swallowing all the way. “Oh God.” Staci whined high in his throat, straining to lean upwards and watch Jacob as he worked. Jacob was the same, he drank in every twitchy noise, every shift of his hips for more, more. He fed on the helplessness of it, poor thing stuck on his back with tied hands, then he pulled off of Staci’s cock.

“You got any lube?” he asked, voice rough with wanting and use. “Uh- yeah yeah.” Staci stuttered out, breathing heavy and trying again to sit up before settling on his back, “It’s um, I have some on the nightstand over there.” He directed with his head. Jacob lumbered out of view, and the deputy craned his neck for a moment trying to keep him in a line of sight, before deciding he could wait. “You have any dildos?” Jacob asked, again rough, but almost deadpan like it was the most mundane question he’d asked all night. “Yeah, yes.” Staci paused, feeling exposed, embarrassed, and still achingly hard; now red and spit wet against his own stomach. “Uh it’s in the top left drawer of the dresser, but uh-” then Jacob was rustling through his drawers.

The older man let out a low whistle, holding up another pair of panties, even skimpier than the last; Staci hid his face in his shoulder, “Very nice, Staci.” Jacob mumbled to himself, bringing his spoils back to the edge of the bed. The larger man pumped some lubricant into his hand, warming it between his fingers, before inserting two. Staci moaned, arching his back off the bed, and spreading his pink bitten legs wide to accommodate the intrusion of such big fingers. “Fuck.” He sighed again, trying to relax himself into the slow rhythm of his partners fingers, as they sunk deeper knuckle by knuckle. After adjusting, the deputy began to slowly push back on the other man’s hand, forcing his thick fingers to rock deeper in and out of himself with every thrust. “Atta Boy” Jacob whispered, and Staci almost lost it in the obscene sounds of his generously lubricated fingers squelching in and out of his hole. “Please God, Jake-uh just fuck me.” Jacob moved slowly, twisting and curling his fingers in the tight heat, monitoring Staci’s every twitch and movement. He hummed “Whatever you say sweetheart.” Finally, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on Staci’s tender thighs.

The older man admired the sight in front of him as he lubed up Staci’s dildo “A little small isn’t it?” He asked. “N-not really?” Staci mumbled; if this was small what was he packing? It was a similar length to his own dick, matte black, thinner, but it got the job done. “Hm.” Jacob grunted, lining up with Staci’s hole and fucking him slowly, first pushing in through tight twitching muscle all the way to the hilt, and pulling out until just the tip was covered. “Look at you.” Jacob praised; free hand rubbing up and down Staci’s chest, massaging his exposed skin, and moving down to his neglected dick. He pumped both at once, building a rhythm and picking up speed as he slid up and down the deputy’s cock and twisted in and out of his ass. Staci’s body was singing, hips stuttering, and arms flexing tight against their bonds. “Please, Jay. Can you. Dios Mio. Faster.” Staci’s breaths were heaving, his stomach and hips moved involuntarily, contracting and relaxing, as he tried to piece together a sentence. “Hmm.” Jacob feigned consideration, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued to work Staci like he was weighing the pros and cons of some arduous dilemma, before clicking his tongue in a sort of tsk. “I don’t think so, Staci. l like the look of you like this veeery much.” He smiled. Bastard. Staci was layed out on his back; arms restricted and flexing under his flush and glistening body, writhing under Jacob’s every touch, it crossed his mind only then that that edge was exactly what Jacob wanted, it was torture. Jacob, equally sweaty; devoured every moment like a three course meal, eyes dark and hungry, thick veins protruding from his fingers to his elbows, straining under the perpetual motion. He kept Staci on the edge like that, so much stimulation, so much blinding pleasure but just enough to keep him on the precipice.

It felt like an eternity before Jacob pulled the dildo out of him again, running a rough thumb over his wet, gaping, hole. It made his body go limp. “Yeah you look ready for it. You’re ready for it aren’t you sweetheart?” Staci whimpered in response, he felt so tender everywhere, like he’d already cum and this man was just using his over sensitive body. Jacob continued to thumb his hole roughly, slipping in and out just to watch Staci swallow him up, and the younger man flex and twitch on his fingers. His other hand, unzipped and pulled himself out of his jeans, throbbing. He was still fully dressed down to his boots, and Staci’s t shirt, it was a lovely juxtaposition in his opinion. The larger man sucked in air through his teeth as he worked the cool lubricant up and down his hot cock.

“Now you’re gonna help me take care of this aren’t you, Peaches? .” Jacob prefaced his movements, and Staci nodded feverishly in agreement like he could do anything else at this point, but take exactly what he was given. Then his cock was flattened against his stomach, and legs pressed together and positioned against Jacob’s shoulder. The older man rubbed appreciatively down the length of his tanned legs, caressing his hands down the sides of the deputy’s thighs, and hooking them around his hips to position his body right over the edge of the bed.

Jacob lined himself up and slipped his head in with ease; Staci blew out a shaky breath through his teeth, even with the excessive prep Jacob was much larger than his dildo. He didn’t waste any time, pushing himself deeper and deeper until Staci was completely full, and then until their hips connected. “Fuck Jacob. You’re- hmm so big.” Staci babbled, he could feel the stretch inside himself, it burned and curled hot in his stomach. Jacob moved slow again at first, watching for Staci’s expressions as he moved minutely in and out, catching when his eyes seemed to go blank and he’d let out a brainless “Uhnn.” That was it. “That’s right Staci, just like that.” He picked up his pace, fucking harder and faster, rutting into Staci’s tight heat and stimulating his prostate. The younger man’s legs shook, even from where Jacob had them pinned, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Jake-Jacob I’m uhn.” He couldn’t take it, Jacob kept his pace, hitting that same sweet spot as Staci drooled onto his bedsheets. “Mierda. I’m gonna-” Jacob fucked his fist fast on Staci’s neglected dripping cock, “Good boy. That’s it, cum for me.” And it was instant, shooting sticky ropes over stomach and chest, coating Jacob’s fingers and the bottom of his t shirt. The older man milked every drop out of him, squeezing slowly from base to tip over and over as Staci begged for reprieve. “Oh God. It’s too much. Please it’s-uhn.” The last spurts coated them both, and Staci layed back boneless, still twitching with aftershocks.

“Sorry Darlin’ you’re not done yet.” Jacob almost sounded apologetic and he continued to fuck deep into the deputy’s used hole, stretching Pratt’s limp body wide over his thick cock like a sex doll. Every thrust pushed an abused whine out of Staci, still nailing his prostate and overstimulating his wrecked hole. Jacob pressed a delicate kiss to Staci’s calf on his shoulder, as he rolled his hips in to thrust deeper, another quiet apology. Then the older man was sliding one large hand up his chest, pushing his cum stained t shirt up with it to expose his heaving bust.

Jacob groped him while he fucked, wetting fingertips with his tongue to pinch his hard nipples. “Jacob, Please.” Staci begged, he didn’t know what he was begging for. “Oh honey, I told you I play rough. This too rough for you?” Jacob tutted condescendingly, before picking up his speed, and gripping both of the deputy’s hips. “Fuck you’re so tight. God damn.” He sighed between grunts. The wet slapping of their bodies and the deputy’s high moans grew louder and louder, Staci was worried his neighbors might hear. As if hearing his concerns, Jacob spoke up again, “Don’t worry, you’re almost- hmm finished. Now where-“ Jacob had to pause his chatter to catch his breath, pistoning in and out of the younger man like a machine, “Where do you want it.” It took Staci a second to comprehend the question. It was such a dirty question; dirty like a man tying you up and fucking you with a dildo, dirty like cumming from a stranger calling you a good boy.

“Cum in me, please.” So dirty. He sounded like a chick in a porno, but he couldn’t help it, he wanted Jacob to fuck him full of it. It had the same effect on his partner, his brows furrowing and eyes falling shut, moaning and grunting loud with every thrust. “Fucking cum in you.” Jacob whispered to himself half in disbelief, “Fuck. Yeah, yeah I’m gonna breed your little hole like I own you.” Staci’s cock jumped again, standing up to half mast between them and Jacob’s fist was around it like lightening. “Is that what you want, hmm?” Staci didn’t know what he was asking but he wanted it all. He nodded fast, biting his lips to quiet himself. The deputy could barely think straight, brain fuzzing around the edges.

“Yeah of course you do, you’re fucking perfect. Perfect, taking all that for me. Such a Good Boy for me huh?” Jacob lathered him in praises, grunting louder between every phrase, kissing up and down the deputy’s pointed legs. Staci whimpered every breath away. “So. Fuck-“ Jacob’s breathing became shallower, hips falling out of rhythm, “So fucking tight.” He moaned leaning over Staci, practically folding him in half. His thrusts became shallower as well, only pulling out enough to ram his tip against the deputy’s most sensitive nerves. Then “Fuck.” Staci’s hips were in a vice grip, bruising purple thumbprints into his tender flesh as he was held, Jacob as deep in him as possible. The older man’s mouth hung open, eyes closed as his cock twitched, spurting load after load of white hot semen inside of Staci.

They stayed there for a minute, Jacob balls deep and panting heavily onto Staci, before slowly, slowly pulling out to the tip. His cum dripped out with every inch, glazing Staci’s thighs as he finally popped out completely. The deputy whimpered at the loss, already aching and sore. “Shit, kid.” Jacob sighed, unceremoniously wiping himself and tucking himself back into his jeans. When he looked again, Staci’s brows were still furrowed. His stomach was tight and cock once again flush. “Greedy little thing aren’t you?” Jacob chastised, “That’s alright, I’ve got you.” Staci didn’t even want to think about it, so used and over sensitive, if he could even cum again. Jacob didn’t seem to think of it as a question. He moved onto the bed behind the younger man, sitting him up and untying the belt from his tender arms; Jacob smiled to himself, admiring his handiwork, that was gonna leave a mark.

Staci’s relaxation was palpable, he groaned with appreciation, flexing his arms and wrists, and leaving backwards as Jacob supported his weight. “I’ve got you.” He repeated as he hooked his arms under Staci’s and went right for his cock. One hand held his freshly bruised thighs open, and the other pumped and twisted over the head, savoring the wet sounds it produced sliding through his fist. Staci’s moans were music to his ears, loud now, not caring about neighbors or dignity; Staci cried out in wanton, whiny, needy bursts, overtaken by the sensations, he could still feel Jacob dripping out of his hole. It didn’t take long to get him to the edge again, hips stuttering and jerking into Jacob’s fist, mouth hanging open near silently as the Staci hid his face in the older man’s neck. Then “Oh fuck fuck fuck.” He was shaking, shooting all over Jacob’s fist again, fucking through it as he lost control.

Jacob wiped his fingers on his (actually Staci’s) shirt, taking it off and cleaning down Staci’s stomach, and delicately down his cock. Jacob got up then, laying his partner down carefully as he made his way to the edge of the bed. He rubbed the cotton over Staci’s hole, gently again, then pushing down on the deputy’s stomach and forcing the semen inside of him to squirt out. Staci whined and covered his face, and Jacob wiped up the rest; staying another moment between his kiss bruised, cum shiny, thighs.

“Fucking- take a picture it’ll last longer.” Staci quipped, half annoyed and half turned on by this man’s odd infatuation with every part of him, “Can I?” Jacob asked, ignoring the joking tone, admiring the view. “Wh- fuck no.” Staci closed his legs, fully embarrassed, drawing himself up and pulling his rumpled t shirt back into place. The older man smiled up at him, “Fair enough.” He walked closer to where Staci’s head lay, breathing deeply and leaning down to hold the younger man’s chin “Ya know you’re really cute when you’re angry.” Staci’s eyes could’ve rolled out of his head, tearing his face away to push himself up out of his prone position, fuck he was sore. “Yeah yeah, I’m a catch all around. Where did you put my jeans.” Jacob laughed at that, finding the crumpled up denim hidden in a corner on the floor.

Jacob grabbed them and held them out to Staci, who stood up to meet him. When Staci grabbed ahold of them, the larger man yanked the crumpled fabric to his side closing their distance. “You sound pretty cocky kid, you wouldn’t be ready for a round 3 would you?” his voice was a low growl again, it made Staci flush all over. He could barely stand as it was, he felt himself shrink a little in shame, running a hand through his tussled hair, and leaning down to pull his jeans up “Uh no-not tonight, I don’t think.” Jacob laughed then, a belly laugh, and it embarrassed Staci further knowing it was a joke. “Well” Jacob smiled that smile that twisted his insides “I’ll just have to have you another night.” Staci tried not to let it shake his confidence this time, leading his guest back to the kitchen with pride like the guy hadn’t had him begging and drooling over himself minutes ago. “I guess you will.”

As they made it to the entrance, Jacob loomed over him, taking up the doorway. “How about your number so we can do this again?” Staci couldn’t help but feel charmed by him. “Sure.” He said, reaching for his phone and typing his number in a bit too fast to appear nonchalant. Then setting his first name to ‘Staci Pratt <3’ and his last to ‘Bar’. “Now you’re not trying to pawn me off with a wrong number here, are you?” Jacob teased. Staci pushed him out the door smiling, “Hell no. Now would you get to your damn truck, or do you need a chaperone?” Jacob smiled too, looking Staci up and down “I might.” God this guy. Staci grabbed his hand and walked him up to the truck, butterflies curled in his stomach and he felt like a schoolgirl, letting go as they got to the drivers side door “Goodnight Jacob.” he sing songed, and he felt a hand on slide up his shoulder. Jacob was mapping his face with his eyes, landing over and over on his lips, Staci did the same. Jacob leaned down then and kissed him, pulling him close and taking his breath away; then pulling away, leaving him reeling, and panting in the driveway. “Goodnight Staci.” GOD this guy.

Staci watched the truck pull away, bewitched. He carried himself back to his home, getting undressed once again, tidying up and taking a quick hot shower, too exhausted to preform any other steps of a nighttime routine. Staci curled up in his sheets, incredibly sore, and ready to feel worse the next day, when his phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

Made it home. I may have a few things of yours.

UNKOWN NUMBER:

(a photo attachment of his stained t shirt Jacob had borrowed laying out on a bed, and another of his panties hanging from Jacob’s fingers)

Staci Pratt <3 Bar:

you stole my underwear ??

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

They must have slipped into my pocket. They’re very pretty, Staci.

Staci Pratt <3 Bar:

pervert.

Staci Pratt <3 Bar:

i’m free this friday if you want to bring them back

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

It’s a date.

#jacob x staci #jacob seed x staci pratt #staci/jacob #ns/fw #nsft #staci pratt #jacob seed #god i am exposing myself with this shit #like can you tell touch is one of my love languages or whatver #but THIS is the big oneeee i’ve been writing for a while #i hope it’s good i wanted to do more traditional fic writing + create a little au for staci to party in #and get fucked sideways but that’s baseline for me #is this something ??#⚠️

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