#someone give me permission to ramble about this at length

[gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun]

Me: the songs from

can’t hurt you!!

Also me: *failed to realize that not only are the songs all still fucking fantastic, but now I have a deep feeling of nostalgia since this was such a huge obsession of mine when I was a kid*

Me, listening to the album: ffuck

#someone give me permission to ramble about this at length #it’s way better than it has any right to be #I know the pacing was apparently pretty bad #but the songs are heavenly #criminally underrated #lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings musical #a r rahman #you don’t understand #this was the only thing in my head for at least twelve months #my interactions with kids my age was playing them this soundtrack on my ipod #whether or not they wanted to hear it #Spotify

[snowthornes]

Greetings, @greatprotector-if . I saw your tag about writing the mc. Do you remember that random galen.txt file screenshot Someone (alas, 'tis me) sent to your asks? Yes. I have kept its contents locked away for all this time but now it is clamoring to be set free. I cannot keep it at bay any longer.

I was about to send it to your ask box, but then I took a step back and Actually Looked at its length and I was like. Madness. To terrorize anyone's inbox with this would be a most heinous crime.

So, it's a post now!

(Warning!!! Short snippet where you talk to a loser who's utterly in love and is very annoying about it. You may feel the urge to launch them out a window. I would support you <;3)

I am going to babygirl galen so hard actually, themk youf or creating them. I've mostly been lurking around in your blog till recently, but I just want to say that the moment I laid eyes on Galen I have been head over heels besotted with them. Thank you for giving them to us, they are the light of my life, the love of my dreams, I promise I will take care of them I will make them so so happy.

I am keeping an MC who's ready to fall head over heels besotted in love at first sight with Galen. They are raring to go. They are going to be so in love and they are going to be so persistently annoying about it.

"I don't think love at first sight is really a thing," a lovely well meaning individual might say, "Wouldn't that just mean you liked their face?"

(Another MC I keep stuffed in the freezer, voice coming muffledly from its depths: AND WHAT ABOUT IT,)

"No, friend," My MC would say, with a solemnity akin to a war general giving an impassioned speech in the name of their cause before they march off to war, "I mean, yes, Galen is lovely. The prettiest. They have the prettiest golden eyes, like the glimmering gold of sunlight coating tree bark and grass blades in sunset, though they often use them to give me the look—"

They pause in their enthusiastic ramblings to stare at you, eyes bright. Your expression has long collapsed, settling into a flat, dead-eyed stare. Why are you here. Why are you still listening to this. They gesture excitedly at you, triumphant.

"—Yes, like that! And they have the broadest shoulders and the thickest arms and the loveliest eyelashes, and sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to hold them—"

"You know, you're really not helping your case," you interject, your dead-eyed gaze strengthening into indignant accusation. You have to cut this wannabe bard off before he decides to wax poetic about this poor Galen for another three paragraphs.

Gods know that you would launch either them or yourself out a window before they finished.

"It— it's not like I'd do that without their permission," they cough meekly, their eyes wandering away from your accusing gaze. They have the audacity to look shy. "Of course I'd court them first."

"Court," you echo flatly. "Did you really just say court—?"

"Yes!" They draw themselves up, gaining steam once again. Their eyes sparkle with determined fire as they outline their wooing plans to you, the resigned listener. "I'll give them gifts, like cool looking rocks and flowers — nothing too expensive at first, since that would probably make them uncomfortable—"

You squint at them. "... Are you a crow?" they steamroll on, undettered.

"And I'll do some wood carving! Maybe some pocket-sized figurines first — wait, what do you think Galen's favorite animal is? Do they even have one? Ah, what about a chicken? Do you think they'd appreciate a chicken—?

"Not a clue, but you never answered the earlier question," you point out. "Why do you like them so much?"

At this, they pause. "I just..." unlike in their earlier spiels, their voice sounds much softer. Stumbling over their words, as if they were about to voice something extremely precious. "They're... them" they clear their throat, and fiddle with the woven bracelets around their wrist. "Galen. They can be grumpy and intimidating and they're kind and they care and everyone knows that. And I just... I like them a lot. Just because."

"Just because," you repeat.

"Yeah." they seem to struggle with themselves for a moment before they draw themselves up, looking at you with earnest eyes. "I want... I want to make them happy."

— And that was my Galen-mancer MC. It was an ungodly hour in the morning, I was possessed by the Galen Brainrot, and I proceeded to write this abomination, immediately passing out at 5am once I finished it. I woke up groggy and dazed with only one .txt file possessing a damning title as a testament to what I'd done. I'm so sorry 💀

#... I am very very sorry #This also goes for my mutuals and any unlucky chump who sees this float across their dash 😔😔💖💖💖 ily guys fwah #AND NO THEY DO NOT HAVE A NAME YET #IM SORRY MC... IT WILL HAPPEN WHEN IT HAPPENS <333 #tgp: galen #head in hands #what is this actually #the great protector if #scribbles.txt

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Where Do You Think You're Going?" Lester Sinclair X GN! Reader. A Commission.

Ay, ay! Another commission! This time for @imbleedin-out! Something quick and dirty! Second comm I have done for her and she gave me permission to share so I sure as shit am! Hope you all enjoy it!

---

Rating. NSFW. Length. 1.3K. Lester X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Mentioned. Warnings! Hunting. Predator/Prey. Chase. Man Handling. Rough Stuff. Grinding. Choking. Biting. Lester Is A Fucking Creep.

---

This ended up being a fucking awful idea. 

You were on vacation, on a road trip to go see some friends out of town and you hit some really unexpectedly awful traffic, the road totally choked up for a while, total gridlock. You were stuck in one place and moved less than five feet in an hour. Soon night was upon you and you were exhausted. The traffic was behind you and you were flying down the road but you are much too tired to keep driving safely. You are annoyed to be honest. You should be at your friend's place already, you called to let them know that you had been held up but would be there eventually, sometime tomorrow probably. 

They told you to be careful and stay safe and you promised you would. 

You found a secluded place to camp, dug your tent out of the back of your car and set it up. You didn’t make camp like proper because you already grabbed a bite and were beat, it was late and you just wanted to pass the fuck out and get back on the road and get to your destination to enjoy your time off properly. 

You set up, inflate your air mattress and lay down your pillow and your sleeping back, you wrap yourself up and fall asleep in mere minutes. You wake up to the low light spilling into your tent, you sit up, rub your eyes and force yourself to get moving. You tear down pretty quick for someone still so sleepy. Air mattress was barely deflated, rolling it up and slotting it into your trunk, tent bagged and shoved in alongside it before slamming it closed. 

You walk around and open the door, you slide into the driver's seat, you pull out your keys, stick them in, turn and-nothing.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you turned again. You hunch forward, gripping the steering wheel with one hand, your other turning the keys to and fro, mumbling, “C’mon, c’mon baby! Come the fuck onnnn, give it to meee-” 

You repeated this process over and over, turn, turn, turn to no avail and it causes you to launch back in your seat, your hands slamming on the wheel with an exclamation of pure frustration. “Shit!” 

This wasn’t good. You were stuck in the middle of nowhere, car fucking busted and worst of all, totally fucking alone. 

This wasn’t just not good, it was bad, down right terrible. You heaved a sigh and got out of the car, you walked around and popped the hood, staring down at the engine, the distinct realisation washing over you that you don’t know the first thing to look for that could be wrong.

You hang your head with a groan before closing the hood and trying to figure out what the fuck to do. 

It is just then, as if by some miracle, you hear something coming from up the road. Loud music playing. Music means people, people hopefully means a car and help and a way out. You run, making your way up the hill and darting out to the edge of the road, arms waving wildly the second your eyes land on the pick-up truck. It slows to a stop, the window is rolled down and you come forward, a small wave, “Hey! So sorry about this, my car broke down and I need some help.”

The man, who you soon learned was named Lester, grinned and told you, “Shoot, I can help you, be my pleasure even.”

You smiled, relief hit so quickly, you thanked him profusely as he told you to hop in and he could take you to a nearby town to find what you needed. 

You found less relief the longer the drive went on, nerve settling in once more, your hands clasped in your lap, fingers laced together as the man driving you rambled on. You were alone with a strange man, in his truck, being taken to God-knows-where and the more you looked at him and listened to him the more you doubted this was a good idea. He had animal bones hanging from his rear view mirror, he smelled, there was blood under his nails and staining his clothing along with other dark smears of something thick and unsightly. Then there was the knife holstered on his hip, the one that as soon as you made mention of it he unsheathed and waved it around, talking about it in an excited tone before sticking it into the dash. 

Your shoulder tensed and your eyes went wide, your blood was running cold, you needed to get out, you had to, fuck this and fuck him, you’d find another way to get help. The car slowed and you took your shot, you threw open the door and made a jump for it, your sneakers hit concrete and you took off running. You heard him shout after you, “Hey! What are you doin’?! HEY!”

The car screeched to a stop and he flung open the drivers door and he was after you. He couldn’t let you get away, no he can't he risk it, if you went somewhere and gave a description of him or of the area and people came here and saw what they were doing-

It was unthinkable he’d be damned if he let you ruin all their hard work. 

You weren’t stupid. You might be panicking and scared but you were being shockingly careful. 

He wasn’t stupid either. He was good at hunting and tracking, this wouldn’t be the first time he did so to a human over an animal. He crept through the woods, listening intently, you were trying to quiet your breathing. Back to a tree, leaning and waiting, hands shaking from fear, you didn’t want to be found.

You didn’t hear him approach, your mind was too clouded, thoughts racing, you hear the twig snap and your eyes shoot open, palm to tree trunk you push off and attempt to make a break for it. 

You didn’t know just how close he was. “No you fuckin’ don’t-”

His hand closes on your wrist and he pulls and pulls hard, jerking you close as his foot kicks out, boot connects with your leg and you go down with a yelp of pain. Body hits the dirt and dry fallen leaves so hard the air is sucked out and he looks down at you only for a moment, his chest heaving from the run, before one leg swings over you. The back of his head swipes over his forehead and his thumb swipes over his nose before he sniffs and says, “Gotta admit, ha, you’re faster than I thought you’d be, little bunny.” 

He lowers himself down, his knees on either side of your hips, you struggle and his hands press on your shoulders, holding you down firmly into the dirt. “Ah, ain’t gettin’ away now.”

He leaned closer, breathing right in your ear, “Don’ like how you ran off, that kinda shit ain’t nice, after I was so fucking hospitible too, givin’ you that ride into town.”

You still tried to fight and his arm looped around your neck, holding you tightly, your hands gripped his forearm. “Is that any way to repay someone doin’ you a fucking favor?”

He gripped harder, shook you gently and asked, “C’mon, answer me!”

“No! Oh-okay I guess it wasn’t nice-” You choked out and he said, “Fucking right. Think I gotta teach you some damn manners. If my brothers met you like this it wouldn’t end well for ya. They don’t take kindly too people who ain’t polite and accommodating.”

You felt him grind against your ass and you realised he was hard, shook your head, one of his hands covered your mouth before you could protest and he said, “No, no fightin’, won’t work. Trust me. I’m doing you another favour, cuz I’m so generous.” He bit your earlobe and you yelped behind his hand before he was saying, “-so when M’ done you better say thank you.”

#Lester Sinclair X reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #BHF commission #imbleedinout #A fun little moment!

[dyed-red]

I know it's the brainworms talking but prev reblog made me want to write a fic about kisses Dean has stolen over the years.

(y'know that ao3 tag that goes something like "Dean Winchester is obsessed with Sam Winchester"? Yeah, like that)

It would start cute like the forehead kiss to baby Sammy in the opening scene of the pilot, a goodbye just for the night, a promise of protection (turned, we know, fast to ash).

Flash forward fast to disturbing territory of Sam blackout drunk as a teen and Dean dropping him in bed, dodging all Sam's octopus limbs trying to attach themselves to dean until he's just - out. And maybe Dean doesn't go for the kiss this time, or maybe he does, but either way he stares at Sam's lips an unsettling length of time, and the scene bleeds into Playthings and there is this distinct undercurrent of 'how often has this exact same thing played out this way over the years'.

We move from there to AHBL and Dean kissing Sam's corpse as if in goodbye, as if seeking atonement, as if that alone could revive it (sense memory still on his lips when he makes his demon deal).

After Sam's wall breaks, comatose, and Balthazar's joke to Dean about not stealing any kisses while he stands vigil over Sam's sleeping form uncomfortably apt, and Dean knows the angels know too much but could he at least keep his goddamn trap shut in front of Bobby, who's looking stiff and away and it figures. It figures he knows too. Figures the whole goddamn world does. (But not Sam, not Sam who is never conscious for these transgressions, these offerings.)

During the trials when Sam is fevered and ill and dips in and out of consciousness, and Dean feeds him and wraps him in blankets and while Sam shakes out the fever, Dean is wrapped around him, presses kisses to Sam's hairline, his forehead, his temples, chin (lips) catching on the grain of stubble dusting Sam's cheeks, thumb grazing his lips until Sam, unconscious and open, sucks it in like a pacifier, like an infant once again.

And maybe if we are going for a 5+1 format, 5 kisses Sam was unaware of and 1 he was let in on, we twist the knife in just a bit?

Possession, we know, involves an open mouth. And how Gadreel entered Sam with Dean's help is a little speculative. If Dean, holding hands with Gadreel, pressed his lips to Sam's mouth and pried it open, stayed there the duration of the trickery he pulled with Gadreel in Sam's brain, so that Gadreel could flow through Dean like a conduit into Sam's open mouth... One wonders if it would be Gadreel or Crowley who would rustle up the image in Sam's mind for him, the strangely familiar sensation of Dean's lips on his.

Of course we could also reject the 5+1 format or subvert it with a happier follow-up, as if two distinct +1s?

Or we could do short snippets of post!finding out Sam (make a whole different 5+1 sequel? 5 kisses Sam let Dean steal, and one that he stole himself?)

We could frame an awake, eyes wide open kiss with demon!Dean that's filthier than all the rest, tongue and suction and bodies pressed firm to each other, Sam's back to a wall, the perfect opportunity to jab Dean with a needle or to get the cuffs on him but only if he's adequately distracted.

After the bmol, after they save Sam, before he's washed, Dean following him to the showers, restless and desperate to touch, to confirm the solidness of Sam's skin away from their mother's prying eyes, but Sam's awake and Dean's never -- never had permission, never stolen one like this, not except as a demon, and between that and Gadreel... But Sam doesn't argue when Dean helps him to the showers, lets Dean help him pry his shirt off when he hisses at the movement and how it strain his limbs, his belt, his jeans, doesn't argue when Dean helps him into the shower itself while maintaining a quiet freeflow ramble about Sam's back needing someone to wash it and not falling over on his still-sore foot and giving himself a concussion. Devolves into Dean kissing Sam's shoulders and hugging him, Sam twisting eventually to look at him, quiet promise of "it's okay" and then Dean takes what he needs and sets his lips on Sam's.

From there, a quiet, not-quite-stolen one of comfort after Sam marches into camp in Apocalypse world with Lucifer behind him, away from the others and Sam melting into the now-familiar, now-comforting sensation.

Dean pulling Sam in after Michael's possession to ground himself, shirtless in his room, out of place in his own skin. His hands on Sam's jaw, his head, more demanding and less feather-light than most times before. Sam's fingers delicately finding a place along Dean's waist, the warm skin there, finding a sense of comfort in feeling how solid Dean is, a sense of fresh understanding as he slides his hands up Dean's back. Dean telling him the beard has to go after he pulls back.

Then after Nick brains Sam and he's dying or dead on the pavement for a moment before he's healed, who cares who sees, this is understood between them, this helps place their jagged pieces together in ways he's not apologizing for anymore - Sam waking up breathing in the air from Dean's lungs on a gasp, lips tingling, mouth opening under Dean to accept him before he even has oxygen in his blood.

The +1 here is either the barn scene (if we're masochistic) or more likely in heaven on the bridge, both of them seeking it together at the same moment, a kiss that means the same as all the last -- I'm here, I'm not letting you go -- but this time untinged by pain or separation, finally together forever, safe.

#tumblr fic #tumblr ficlets #5+1 times #wincest #phyn vs. writing #phyn rambles #fics inspired by social media #i now have two entries for that series that i haven't posted to ao3 yet 😩😂 #oh also: consent issues be here #these are stolen kisses at least for some of them #consider yourself warned and all that #weirdcest #i forgot to tag weirdcest and yet this is more weirdest than not #or like halfway unrequited but also kind of requited wincest #it's weird is the point

[sixft0ver]

🌱. KKYUN RAMBLES (EPISODE 1)

The more I look at this man, the more it destroys me from the inside—Anyways, gOOD morning leaning towards afternoon and welcome to my new series/pep talk where I get to spew juicy facts and hcs about characters I currently obsess over.

Today's victim guest is the one the only, Seoul's White Snake, Kwak Jichang of Chungcheong. And in this episode we will be looking into his kinks and some general spice, why??? Because I have no self-control over my fingers right now and my brain might circuit if I don't share this so lets get into it

First of all, I'd like to establish that this man is indeed, a dom. Service Top by heart though <3

Jichang is really into bondage. Cuffs, ties, belts, ropes, anything that could restrict you from touching yourself without his permission or being able to see you squirm and struggle while you beg for him to touch you. Your helpless cries calling out his name in such a desperate manner turns him on so much.

Sensory deprivation is also something that he likes, it makes it more fun to tease you. There's just a sort of pleasure he gets when his large calloused hands run over the smooth edges of your skin without your knowledge of where its going, making you shiver beneath his touch.

Now, Jichang is a very discreet person. But idk why I'd get the feeling that he lowkey has a thing for exhibitionism? It's something about taking that risk that tips him over the edge. Giving him a blow job under his desk where anyone coul walk into you at any moment? Consider it do-able. The way he'd keep your head down whenever someone walks in or passes by, the way his eyebrows furrow each time the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, the way it twitches inside whenever you let out a little gag. Bye y'all—

Isn't a big fan of hair pulling since he prefers to grab you by your throat. But when you pull his hair though, now that's a different story.

Overstimulation is something that he loves so much. Being able to spoil you while also indulging in your fucked out expression, eyes rolling back in ecstasy, feeling your body shudder and squirm, begging him to stop when he wants to do so much more.

Cockwarming. Only on nights where he doesn't have early shifts in the morning, Jichang is big alright, I'd say leaning more towards length with juuuuusst a bit of girth.

Jichang is surprisingly vocal? Deep low grunts, breathy moans, and his voice increases in octaves whenever he gets closer and closer to cumming I—AAAAASANSFKDJCIDNOXFN

I think his favorite position would be mating press, putting your legs over his shoulders while he makes sure you're taking all of him as deep as you can. Loves the feeling of absolutely being burried deep inside your warmth.

Face sitting is one of his favorites as well, will hold you down and drink you up like his life depended on it. Pussy-drunk Jichang is something else ladies, gents, and fellow nb brethren 😔🤌

Alright that's it y'all I don't need to shame myself on this platform for more than I already have—

kkyun's note: I wanted to also add impact play but I am absolutely terrified after seeing what this man can do with his hands (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

#kkyun rambles #idk if i wanna add official tags here or not #but im in my jichang brainrot era #I have no shame at all at this current time and moment #but I can smell the regret hunting me down for sport

[eldritch-nightmare]

Hello! I go by 🎀 anon! I’d like to do a match up, if that’s okay! I’m a latino afab and genderfluid (they/them) in my 20s! 5’4 height, medium length dark brown hair with a shaggy mullet type of haircut (hoping to at least have magenta highlights if work allows it </3), brown eyes, mid-sized body type, a INFP MBTI type, and my star sign is a Taurus. Also am autistic and have ADHD! I’m a pan disaster but fictionally I lean towards male characters! 🤣

I LOVE art and animation! I do digital art as a hobby and hope to sell as a side job some day! I have a special interest for horror, especially indie horror gaming! I also love trying different culture foods, even if I’m biased in my puerto rican roots. I always make effort to seek other cultural meals and learn how to eat them properly and know it’s history because… I love food and making food. 🫡 Speaking of! My love language is making someone meals, buying them gifts and making them art! <3

Ah, not sure if it matters, but I wear a lot of cutesy pastel pink clothes (bonus if they’re strawberry themed) as well as very goth and punk clothing depending on my mood! Which is always funny whenever I wear very gothic outfits, people look so shocked when they see my room LMAO. I love a variety of music including nu metal, goth rock, game soundtracks, chill lo-fi sounding music (Like the kind you hear in Bee and Puppycat! Which is actually my comfort show…). It fluctuates depending the mood LOL. (It’s… quite a mix.) While I’m introverted, I do like going out and interacting with others when having the energy to do so! I tend to ramble a lot though and always fear to seem annoying, then regret later for going on for too long so expect a lot of apologizing for that. 😭

Kinda like now actually LOL, apologies if this is too long! Not sure how much to put in, but hope you have a good day! Take your time to answer, no rush! Appreciate it, thank you! qvq

can i just say you sound so cool?? like?? hello?? your taste in music is literally superb?? but don't worry, this wasn't too long, so no need to apologize <3 i hope your work allows you to get magenta highlights!!

your matchup is... the bloody painter! and it's not because of the art thing, trust me on this okay, just hear me out for a moment. while, yes, you and helen both enjoy art, helen is also really big on horror and the whole goth subculture. while he doesn't dress the part, you will catch him listening to the music and digesting both the art and literature. so. trust me.

helen is pretty reserved and not one to let people close to him but once you break the ice and get past his apathetic exterior, you'll find that he's actually pretty... i wouldn't say he's open once you get to know him, but it's fairly obvious that he'll become less reserved around you, and he'll actually show that he cares about you. does that make sense?

moving on, helen doesn't give food a lot of thought, to be honest. he likes what he likes, and he hates what he hates. he would be a terrible food critic. he does, however, know and understand that cooking is an art, and he has nothing but respect for you and your talents and is 100% willing to be a taste tester for you if you ever need one. he quite enjoys your cooking, if we're being honest, and you have introduced him to a wide variety of different foods from different cultures and he just... loves seeing you enjoy yourself.

now going on to art, because this is helen and it's unavoidable. helen is more of a traditional artist, so digital art isn't his area of expertise, but he would absolutely love to see any and all of your drawings. you two could even draw together! and he has like numerous sketchbooks just full to the brim of sketches and fully-fledged out pieces if you ever want to see them. he loves sharing his own art as well. and, if you give him permission, he'll probably incorporate you into his art. he'll sketch you or add you into the background of one of his paintings. art is his love language, and he would love to involve you in it.

helen doesn't give gifts often, mostly because it's not something that crosses his mind, but sometimes he'll be out and about, and he'll see something. something strawberry-themed or an accessory that would look good with your goth or punk clothing. and, of course, the only natural thing to do is to buy it and gift it to you. so, every once in a while, he'll just hand you a random gift with no real explanation other than a shrug or 'i saw it and thought about you.'

and if you start rambling to him about a certain topic that has caught your interest, or about your day-to-day life in general, helen will silently listen to you. he likes listening to you ramble, especially when he's mindlessly sketching something. and should you apologize for rambling too much, he'll just momentarily meet your gaze and say, 'don't apologize. i like the sound of your voice.' before directing his attention back to whatever he was sketching.

any and all information you give him about the things you like and dislike will be neatly tucked away into a corner of his mind. he's the type to remember everything you tell him, even the minor things. you're a very important part of his life, and he does everything he can to make sure you know that.

#🎀 anon #creepypasta #creepypasta matchup #the bloody painter #the bloody painter x reader

[valeriianz]

Hi, @chaosheadspace here. (Anon cause sideblog and stuff).

I have a question regarding your playlist for the playlist you made for your Dreamling band AU. (Which is very good, btw. I'm looking for new music atm and was elated being greeted with someone saying "I want to skin you alive". Glorious.)

Did you choose the songs you think they might have played or did you choose songs that embodied the characters and the setting for you? Please feel free to ramble at length.

Hello! Oh goodness... I'm so happy to receive this ask. I've never thought much about music while writing fics (I don't even listen to music while I'm writing, I find it very distracting) but given this is a BAND au, it was almost inevitable (90% of the songs on the playlist were added before I even published the fic). Allow me to ramble, since you've given me permission haha.

All of these songs already exist somewhere on my Spotify, I listen to a lot of indie and alt rock and remember coming up with the idea for Bolt in the Blue and daydreaming A LOT about Endless as a band and what they might sound like. So, while I was commuting to work, cleaning my apartment, doing laundry, I had my Spotify on a constant shuffle and every time a song popped up that made me think about Endless, I tossed it into a playlist. A lot of edits were made before I decided to publish the final draft lol.

So while this did start out as what I imagined Endless would sound like, I also started to think about what each member might contribute to said playlist. I thought of it like... when you're at a show and music is playing through the speakers while you wait in the crowd and the stage is being set up. I could picture the whole band making a playlist and contributing equally.

I tell you, and myself, that it's not that deep. It's music that gives me vibes for the band only, and doesn't reflect the fic at all. Well, except one song. Mile Deep Hollow by IAMX is such a Dream song to Hob that it makes me vibrate while listening to it now:

So thank you You need to know That you dragged me out Of a mile deep hollow And I love you You brought me home 'Cause you dragged me out Of a mile deep hollow

I mean... no explanation needed. Hob is Dream's light and is the one who inspires him and drags him up from a deep darkness (kind of spoiler but eh, I like to think I'm pretty predictable and we could all see that happening from a mile away).

But the other tracks? Eh... I mean some definitely give off vibes but I wouldn't connect any of them to the fic itself. Even the fic title, Bolt in the Blue, while obviously taken from the LPX song, is not indicative of the story at all (that's a separate post though, it's all a metaphor lmao). Which is why, secret's out, I'm currently building a new playlist that will go along with the fic chapter by chapter lol. But that won't be ready until Bolt in the Blue is finished. I kind of realized, very recently, that I wanted a proper playlist to go along with the themes and characters in the fic.

So, while Endless' Personal Playlist is exactly that- just songs that one: I imagine the band could actually write and perform but also two: all made together and music they'd all rock out to in their tour bus... this new playlist I'm making will accurately describe and emulate the plot. I'm having a fucking blast building it and can't wait to share it with everyone :)

And just for fun, here's who I think added what track to the Endless playlist (as I've stated in the past, music is subjective and who you connect each song to is up to interpretation. And here's mine, and yes, there are some repeats):

Dream:

Poison by Alice Cooper Mile Deep Hollow & The Great Shipwreck of Life by IAMX Nothing Personal by Night Riots Don't You Forget About Me by Billy Idol

Death:

Bolt in the Blue & Slide by LPX Stone Cold Crazy by Queen Shout by Placebo Holy Mother by Starbenders

Despair:

Human & High by Anavae Blue Monday by Orgy Everything Black by Unlike Pluto Stone Cold Crazy by Queen

Desire: High by Avavae Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row Shout by Placebo Modern Day Cain by IDKHBTFM Hang on to Yourself & Massacre, The New American Dream by Palaye Royale

Delirium:

Maniac by Carpenter Brut Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row Call Me a Saint by YOKANA Don't You Forget About Me & Mony Mony by Billy Idol

Alright, I'm finished lol THANK YOU for letting me ramble!! I hope everyone reading enjoys the rock n roll or at the very least discovers something new from the playlist :D

#dreamling #the sandman #fic: bolt in the blue #i had way to much fun answering this lol #thanks again :) #musik

[poet-shimmer]

* rp rules.

fandom:

undertale + alternate universes (only)

requirements:

please be capable of proper grammar, punctuation, and multiple paragraphs (15+ lines). my ideal preferred length, for reference, is a message that reaches the sign limit of a discord message.

provide an rp example of yours so i can get an idea of your writing style. really, enjoying my partner's style matters more to me than the length. when i can really tell you're an eloquent, passionate writer.

be 18+. because of my own age, preference for a mature partner and dark themes. don't lie about that. please.

i have a bit of a 'funny' rule regarding ocs. i will only accept other canon characters (more about that below) *unless* you have an oc you'd like to pair up with swap!sans. even then, i won't accept just about any oc. thanks for understanding.

third person only.

be open to canon-divergence/headcanons. i very much enjoy hcs, and i tend to twist canon facts in favor of an interesting storyline.

*be active*. be capable of multiple answers a week at least.

communicate. i am very patient and forgiving with my partners, but if i constantly have to second guess if you're busy or bored with what's going on i might just cut ties for my own sake.

please, please, please don't let me carry the plot. someone who knows what they want in a plot and brings ideas would be so great.

tell me your triggers.

ooc chatter isn't a must per se, but it means a lot to me. it usually raises the fun and activity! dry ooc talk really affects my mood honestly.

playlists, moodboards and rambles/hcs based on the characters/plot? umm, yes please?? again, not a must, but *so* appreciated.

about the user:

call me rose!

they/them

above 18

CET timezone

10+ years of experience

can mirror replies with little effort

needs a plot

highly prefers discord as a platform

discomforts/pet peeves:

venting without permission

people who easily lose interest

triggers will be disclosed in private

yes men. please don't just say "i don't know" or "you choose" or "whatever you want!" all the time.

character information:

✅ will do:

favs

✒ ink

main!

lots of experience, lots of hcs

☀️ dream

secondary main

a bit of experience, a good bunch of hcs

🌊 swap

NOT blueberry

OC ship friendly! (only him)

🌑 nightmare

zero experience so far, but very familiar with the character and willing to try!

🗨 classic

☠ reaper

others

anybody who isn't on my 'won't do' list, really! especially if they're from classic undertale. toriel, alphys, undyne, papyrus... you name em!

❌ won't do:

any rps involving characters from...

underlust

underfell

glitchtale

x-tale

(+ any alternate universes of them. the story of underverse is not at all canon to my ideas. it's totally fine to like any of those! i just don't.)

ship information:

✅ will do:

any crack- or rareship you can think about. i'm serious. whether it's romantic or platonic (and always legal ya sickos). i wanna bring characters together most people wouldn't, discover fun dynamics!!

examples:

ink and classic

nightmare and reaper

swap and swap!napstablook

(those are still kinda tame, but you get the idea!)

popular ships are fine too! they just don't tickle my fancy as much.

❌ won't do:

romantic ships involving fresh, frisk, chara, asriel or monster kid

incest

important notes:

if you read and understood all of those, then please include this smiley [🫖] somewhere in your comment/pm.

do not comment on this post! i have a pinned message for you to interact with if interested. like it or comment and i'll contact you. (or just go ahead and contact me-)

(current) cravings:

i would give anything for a good drink (ink x dream) rp. really. so if you're an enthusiastic dream rper hmu as soon as possible, i b e g-

aside from that, i look forward to playing ink, dream or classic sans against any other possible character the most currently!

#undertale rp #undertale au rp #rp rules

[ventusbane]

↘    independent && private WARRIOR OF LIGHT and CANON MUSES from FFXIV ↘    canon divergent, headcanon heavy ↘    multi - para, multi - ship, ship friendly ↘    mun is 21↑  runs on a GMT +8 timezone

 LIST OF CANON CHARACTERS

GUIDELINES

01. this is an independent, selective and private blog. i’ll only interact with mutuals. due to my lack of time, I may be slow. please understand. 

Please softblock / hardblock if you do not wish to interact anymore. There’ll be no hard feelings, of course. You do what you have to do but please just soft / hardblock to make it clear. Thank you !

WHEN SENDING IC ASKS / LIKING A STARTER CALL, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH MUSE YOU WISH TO WRITE AGAINST. WE’RE ALL SIMPS HERE, NO JUDGEMENT.

this blog is iconless ( for now ) until life becomes less grindy.

THREADS

02. one-liners, multipara are all okay. i lean more towards the latter but i wouldn’t mind doing one-liners either for fun.

03. usually, i match length. but i can also write a lot. i write a hecking lot, especially when it comes to meme in askbox. i ramble a lot. but don’t feel stressed over matching lengths - just give me something to reply to.

04. if you wish to continue a thread from asks, feel free to continue from that post ( since i formatted it that way so that there can be a thread without the ask lodging at the top ).

05. i’m known as a bit of a muse bicycle so i can roleplay any side characters to spice things up on and complement the threads. 

06. i will drop threads if i don’t feel it anymore but i will try my best to let you know about it beforehand and maybe we can either discuss another plot or shake hands and walk away like mature adults if nothing else works. there’s no pressure to continue interacting with me if there isn’t chemistry between the mun either !

CANON DIVERGENCE

07. one of my wols is a shard of hermes rather than azem because i like to mess around like that. however, that does not cancel out amon being the canonically shard of hermes. two can co-exist in roleplays and such. things can always be worked out. 

08. same wol being zenos’s half brother has always been a thing for years ( thanks to eorzea encyclopedia referring zenos as a firstborn ) and it still is. as such romantic shipping is not possible with zenos / emet-selch / varis.

IF, times comes when i write with writers of these characters, i won’t push this plot on you, and i will always ask permission before mentioning it.

09. at any case if you strongly prefer me to omit the above two backgrounds in our threads, let me know. as long as you’re polite about it, i’m flexible.

SHIPPING

10. multi-ship, and is generally alright with most ships. feel free to chat me up if you find that our muse has chemistry / has potential to develop good chemistry. note that i require mutual plotting and interactions between muse and mun for a ship to happen.

NSFW

11. yes, i am over 20 but i most likely will not be writing sex stuff with just anyone off the bat. main reason being i am not very motivated by it. i do like to write the foreplay though but anything that comes after is pretty hard to interest me unless it’s with a shipping partner.

NO-NOs

12. please don’t come to my dms with passive aggressiveness and uppity in regards to how i write my character. for one, this is canon divergent and headcanon heavy. i don’t care that much about sticking to canon to a tee. i love to bend the lore, twist the rules around and entertain to the best of my creative abilities. i only focus on making myself a very happy writer and hopefully someone a very happy writing partner. if you're not a flexible person like me, then i'm not the writing partner for you.

14.  mun =/= muse, this goes without saying. but if my muses becomes a bit too much, just let me know nicely and i’ll try and dial them down. your comfort is important but don’t be a jerk about it.

15. i also don’t really care for drama or what people do with their blogs. life is too short for all that nonsense, yeah? if you are hurt, you can vent to me if you want or need to but otherwise, i don’t engage in fandom drama.

16. no god-modding, obviously. and try not to have your muse know things that my muse wouldn’t tell anyone. some of my muses are pretty tightlipped but i assure you that opening up this tuna can is not that hard and a bit of a writing can make the tuna sandwich all the more tasty. 

17. I have massive social anxiety, coupled with a lot of other shit with my mental health so I will be selective with who I will continue to thread with. If something bothers me, I’ll let you know nicely and gently. If we still don’t click, I’ll have to drop threads or plotting ( though I will still be open with working things out ) but again, I’ll let you know nicely and gently. Please be open to that possibility!

i have discord and i’m all willing to share with mutuals. just hit me up!

[caelestexcervus]

Rules

- You MUST be over the age of 18 to follow. No exceptions.

- I don’t mind if folks check in to ask about replies, but please do not ask constantly about them. 

- Calypso is multi-ship, each ship will have its own verse. 

- That said, I am looking for all kinds of relationship dynamics: friends, enemies, etc.

- While Calypso might flirt with others if it’s advantageous to her, there will be no explicit lewd content here. Sensual is fine, but anything lewd will be fade-to-black. 

- I tend to be very shy about approaching others in regards to roleplaying, I apologize and am currently trying to get past it. 

- While I do follow reblog-karma and I will respect others’ wishes and will do my best to send something if I reblog directly from someone. 

- You do not have to match my post lengths, but please give me something to work with. -  You DO NOT have to try to match my post lengths. I tend to ramble when trying to convey my character’s feelings and reactions. All I ask is just give me something to go on.

- I allow some powerplay WITHIN REASON. That doesn’t mean you can overpower or do whatever you want with my muse.  If you need something big, like a severe injury, to happen, ask for my permission first.

[cynettic]

How to Dom Genshin Men 101

Summary - Tips, tricks, and the unofficial guide of how to dominate genshin men in bed. ( Not really- just tips and a quick sneak peak )

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Albedo / Diluc / Kaeya / Childe / Kazuha / Venti /  Zhongli / Dainsleif / Scaramouche

Warnings - NSFW ( edging, overstimulation, penetration, pegging, foreplay, bondage, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, fingering, heavy dom, punishment, cunnilingus, blowjob )

A/N - “How to dominate Genshin Woman,” is up next ;)

Mentions - @clouds-rambles I saw you wanted someone to tag you for a post with Kazuha or Venti content :) sorry if it was comfort you were looking for tho- ;-;

_-_-_-_

Kaeya needs to be told he will be fucked. That you’re going to throw him on the bed and have your way with him. With the blue headed cavalry captain, communication is the key to seducing him into your bidding. Kaeya naturally can be submissive, but he often prefers to take control, so you’ll have to keep firm with him.

Rub his thighs while you whisper into his ear all your dirty little plans. The contact will catch his attention, and he’ll grow hard at the thought of you taking control.

But be careful.

As much as Kaeya can be a bratty sub, he is equally teasing and capable of taking control again. You need to stick hard with your decision, and never falter into his words. Keep him on edge, control his orgasm, make him long for you.

“Y/n… please… I cant take it any longer.”

Kaeya in general is open to many things, so bondage and many kinks are open to him. Use them to keep him blinded in ecstasy and want, until all he can do is whine out your name.

Degrade him.

Play with his hair as he shakes for the orgasm, and pull at his locks when he tries to get off when you pull back. You need to remind him constantly that you’re in control, that he does your bidding and that your words are law.

_-_-_-_

The room was hot, sweat dripping down your neck as you loomed over Kaeya’s toned chest. But the warmth was hardly a bother with the view in front of view, whimpers and grunts escaping the man’s lips as he clenched the white silk bedsheets.

“Y/n,” he breathed, head crushed into the bedsheets by your hand that gripped his neck. You only squeezed his throat tighter, making him flinch and unable to speak. All he could do was try to meet your uneven pace and throw his hips up in an idle attempt to orgasm.

He should’ve known better.

Because you drew up when he was close, lifting your wet dripping pussy from the slick coated juices that covered his dick. Leaving his erect and overstimulated length throbbing as he cried out. 

“I decide when you get to cum,” was your only reply, harsh and strict against his lustful desperate eyes. “I am the one in control of your needy little dick right now, so dont even try to find out what I’ll do if you do it without my permission.”

He could only nod, tears welling up in his eyes when you slammed back down on his dick. The obedient way he melted into you making you loosen the grip on his neck, slowly trailing your hand down his chest. Hand settling on his abs as you bounced on his dick, pace getting quicker. 

“Cum you slut.”

His seed filled your hole, and his hands clenched into fists as the wave of pleasure washed over him. He curled his toes at the edge of the bed, knees and thighs shaking when you sank back down on his dick. He was reduced to a mewling mess, unable to form proper words.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Touch his chest, especially his nipples. He was his window exposed to the cold air after all~ its sensitive and the contact there with the one on his dick will have him trembling.

Diluc doesnt know how to be anything but dominant in his sex life. He’s unlikely ever had the chance to be at someones complete and utter mercy. In a way, he liked it like that, he likes control better than the unknown. But he trusts you, openly submitting himself to you when you ask. Cause thats all you have to do when it comes to Diluc, ask with a pouty face and a “pretty please?” And its yours.

Diluc probably got the idea that you’d be gentle with him because of your words. Maybe it was your soft expression, or just the way you patted his shoulder and told him he’d enjoy it, you promised.

But you were anything but gentle.

Actually, he’ll likely try to avoid looking at you directly because he might feel ashamed for looking so vulnerable. Scared that you might find him disgusting or revulsive in the state that he’s crying and begging for your touch.

With Diluc, praise him. 

Tell him how good he’s doing, how hot he looks all wet and hard for you. Talking about what you’re going to do to him also turns him on, stroke his dick and whisper into his ear how you’ll be pounding it in your pussy.

“So g-good… dont stop… d-dont…”

“Magic word ‘Luc,” you whispered slyly into his ear. 

“Please…” he whined almost immediately. “Please, please… p-please-”

But once you start, you’re in complete and utter control.

Unlike Kaeya, he wont be able to turn the tables on you if he feels like it. Being at someones mercy is so thrilling, and all he can do is think about how to make you tell him he’s doing good.

He’ll do everything you ask without hesitation.

A good boy just for you.

_-_-_-_

“Sensitive,” you remarked smoothly as the pads on your fingers rubbed Diluc’s cock. You were gentle, slow and torturous as you rubbed the tip and drank in the boy’s muffled gasps and cries.

Diluc was face down on the bed, hands grasping the pillow and just about shoving it in his face. His hips bucked everytime you touched his needy dick, toes digging into the blanket to support him in any kind of way. 

You hovered over his quivering body, a smirk plastered over your face at the feeling of euphoria this gave you. Diluc was never a bottom, and it felt so good to know that it was you who was changing that.

‘He’s so cute being so submissive too…’

Ass up in the air as if begging you to suck his cock, to do anything instead of teasing him with your fingers. Adorable attempt, but if he wanted to be sucked off, he needed to vocally beg for it, plead and whine for your mouth.

You pressed another kiss against his neck, nipping at his tender red skin with your teeth. He struggled and whimpered when you didnt go any lower.

“You want something…?” You asked gently into his ear, holding back the grin when he nodded wildly.

“‘Ask for it.”’

He opened his mouth to say something, but was overcome with the sensation of your fingers sliding up and down his dick. The pillow didnt help, muffling his voice so you couldnt hear him either way. Feeling trapped, he could only thrust his hips into the strokes of your hand.

“Y/n…” he tried, stopping halfway. “I want you to… I n-need you to…”

So you helped him out a little bit.

Your hand quickly came to his neck, holding his face up above the pillow. It was grasped as if you’d choke him, but your touch was soft and gentle enough not to hurt him. “What was that?”

“Suck me…” he sputtered out, thighs trembling. “Please…”

You let go of his neck, instead trailing your body down. You left little kisses and love bites on the crevices of his back, noting how he arched his spine obediently. “Good boy,” you whispered when you got to his cock. You gave the tip a little kiss, “Good boy.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Get into a position with Diluc that’ll make it hard for him to escape your grip completely. He’s not used to this, so he’ll be really shifty and squirmy the entire time.

Albedo might be a little harder to go about, but it all comes down to how you phrase it. The poor boy is so obsessed with knowledge and discovering more that it really isnt that hard to persuade him with the right words. Tell him that you simply want to experiment body reactions, and that someone suggested a little something ‘different.’

Can I just start by saying that Albedo is probably one of the prettiest bottoms out there? Like the way his mouth opens to moan out your name, but then he chokes back on pleasure and now he’s just breathing really hard, eyes slitted.

During the entire process, he’ll be completely obedient to you and only you. Asking what to do so that the supposed experiment will work. 

In general he’s pretty touch craved, so even just the simplest stray of your fingers along his thigh will get him hard.

“You’re… sure this is part of the experiment?”

“Absolutely. Something wrong?”

“No… I’ve just never done this before.”

Make him sit on your lap. 

I don’t care if you’re shorter or taller than him. If you’re looking up or down to see his face, because either way its the best position to see his expressions. And the best thing about Albedo is his expressions.

You’re used to seeing his usual stoic demeanor and maybe even the slightest smile that he spares for you. But here, you get to see the pleasure that he cant hide, moaning your name and whining for more.

_-_-_-_

“Like t-this…?”

Your hand was on the soft skin of his back, fingers stroking the crevice of his spine and sending goosebumps up his spine. “Perfect,” you purred back, legs widening under the pressure of him above you. 

You could tell Albedo was desperately trying to stay in control of his face, but his body reactions gave way to his actual feelings. Face slightly tinted as he screwed his eyes shut and delved into the feeling of being inside you. His thighs shook as you grasped his hips, slamming him in and out of your pussy mercilessly.

“Y/n…”

The way he moaned your name was just as satisfactory as his dick pounding into your walls. You stroked the sensitive skin of his sides, pinching and gripping his ass. It was tender in your hands, and you rubbed the flesh as you hoisted him up and down into your hole.

“You like that?” You asked into his ear, nibbling at the exposed hollow of his neck. 

“The e-experiment?” He began, clearing his throat as if to give you a fully proper answer. 

You thrust your hips to meet his.

“Its certainly- c-certainly… I…” He pressed his face into your shoulder, breathing hard as his thighs gave away and he fully submitted into you. Into the sensation of you pumping his length into yourself. 

“Certainly what Bedo…?” You teased, satisfied with his unfinished answer. You didn’t want him to give you his hypothesis, you wanted him to tell you how good he felt, how he wanted you to fuck him harder.

One of your hands rose up to his face, harshly pushing off your shoulder. Your hand came to grip his neck, angling his face in just the ‘right’ position so you could view the ecstasy dimming his eyes. Mouth open while nothing but moans and whimpers escaped, head tilted to the side because he couldnt focus on anything but the feeling of you.

“Feels…. good…” he mumbled, hazy eyes threatening to roll to the back of his head.

Your hand on his neck tightened, and you pulled his head up higher so you could see the diamond like mark on his chest. Pressing a soft kiss to the symbol, he tensed, trying to handle the stimulation on both his dick and neck.

“Now thats the answer I wanted,” you simply said in response, thumb rubbing the sensitive spot on his collarbone. 

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Bondage and toys are also okay with Albedo as long as its for ‘research’ purposes. Seeing his expressions when he’s overstimulated would be all the more better :3

Childe would never willingly submit himself to you, never willingly let himself be submissive when it comes to sex or… anything. As you know, he is a very competitive man, so its easier if you trick him into it. Its consensual of course, Childe would never back down to a challenge, so who’s to say you can’t win for once?

Tell him you’ll be the one fucking him when you get back home.

He will laugh and tell you he’d like to see you try, the smirk on his face telling you he plans to be the one pumping into you all night anyways. 

But you slowly drive him crazy, occasionally brushing your fingers along his hip, up his thighs, ‘accidentally’ on his chest. Until his hard member is throbbing and needy, and he is easy to catch off guard when you make it back home.

He puts his stuff away, changing out of his dirty clothes. But you are prepared when he comes out in his boxers, the rope on his pull up bar undetected by him.

Yes, Childe has a pull up bar on his door, I swear thats canon-

Anyways, as he slowly paces towards you, lustful look in his eyes, you only smirk back. And its when you’ve pulled his hands into the waiting knot and pull the other two ends to secure the bindings, thats when he realizes he’s screwed up.

‘And yes I know Childe could probably break the pull up bar if he wanted to- shush shush.’

“Oh Childe… eating up your words now arent you?”

Tease him.

Degrade him and show him that you are in charge. That you are always in charge, that if you wanted, you could do anything to him. He is at your complete and utter mercy, and he can’t do anything about it.

Look him dead in the eye as the confidence fades from his face. As he can only acknowledge one thing, one thing only.

You’ve won.

_-_-_-_

“You’re holding up pretty well,” your fingers trailed alongside the side of his face, scanning his features. “Pretty determined arent we? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that up for you quick.”

“Go ahead and try,” was his only answer.

Your fingers gripped his dick firmly, positioning it over your pussy. “Oh I plan to,” you whispered sweetly in a promise. “I can’t wait to see you begging for me, your needy little dick at my complete and utter disposal.”

Before he could answer, you thrust your hips to meet his length, biting your bottom lip slightly. He was big, and a grunt left his lips as he thrust his dick up into your entrance. With a gasp, you grabbed his sides, pushing his ass into the door and flashing him a nasty stare.

“Don’t even try.”

With your hands restraining his body against the wooden door, he was left to deal with your terribly slow pace. As you slowly pumped his member in and out of your pussy, a torturous tempo that even had you yearning for more.

His face was worth it.

“Go faster…” he managed to get through his teeth, “You’re so damn slow-”

You pulled away from his member, letting it hang loose and dripping. Your hand still gripped it though, and with a long prolonged sigh, you looked up to give him a stern face. “Say that again and I’ll make sure you’ll stay stuck tied to the door, helpless and needy like the little whore you are.”

At this, his face scrunched in anger as he tried to pull away from the pull up bar. You pushed a hand to his chest, shoving him back into the door. Of course he wasnt used to being degraded and toyed around like this, but in his position, he needed to learn his place.

“So? What’ll it be?”

Stroking the tip of his cock hard in your hand, you watched as his resistance came to crumble, slow until you rubbed up and down his length. He closed his eyes ever so slightly, a whimper escaping his lips as he threw his head back against the door. You took a step closer, positioning his member right at the entrance of your pussy. You rubbed the tip of it against your clit, letting out a little whine out yourself.

“Fine…” you heard him mumble. “Please… Y/n, fuck me.”

You slowly pulled his cock closer against your hole, till only the tip was inside. “Louder.”

His eyes flashed open to give you a harsh glare, but nevertheless he had no choice but to beg. “Please,” he began, jerking when you pulled his cock into your pussy. So far that he hit his head against the wall in an act to hide his moan. “Oh god Y/n… just like that.” A whimper escaped his lips when you pumped in and out of him. “Dont stop… oh d-dont stop… fuck me… please.”

The slick sounds of squelches and Childe’s ass hitting the door filled the room. “Look at you,” you cooed, rubbing his cheek with your thumb as you looked at his half slitted eyes. “Looking so obedient now arent you? Who knew you were such a good little slut.”

Childe only mewled in response, knees threatening to give in as you thrust into his dick at a quicker pace. His thighs and legs were all but ready to give out, and it was the restraints on his wrists tying him to the pull up bar that kept him upright.

It wasnt till he was overstimulated and barely hanging onto the threads of consciousness when you spoke to him again. Untying the rope on the pull up bar and pulling him against you to bring him into the shower.

“Now now,” was what you whispered into his ear. “I want to hear it from you, who won?”

Your fingers treaded through his hair as he only managed to mumble back, “You.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Run. I’m not kidding, morning comes and Childe awakens with his strength back? Bro, get outta there before the mf decides to take revenge-

Kazuha is poetic and takes a gentle approach to intimacy with you. Straight out telling him you want to be in control might throw him off a bit, so its best to lure him into it. Kiss him and whisper loving words into his ear. Have him lose himself in your lips, your words, and he wont notice how you’re not not wearing clothing, and now you’re pegging him in the ass.

Like Diluc, Kazuha wants to be praised, hearing your loving words in his ear. He’s usually the poetic one, so how come you’re the one being so romantic and cute?

Whisper the haiku he read to you yesterday, and he’ll be down and ready for whatever you want.

Overall, Kazuha probably wont mind if you’re dominant in your sex life, considering that he just wants to be loved, and that the intercourse is something intimate between the two of you. Special.

“O-oh… that feels nice…”

Be aware that Kazuha has slightly heightened senses with smell and hearing, and has a general sensitivity along with his senses. So yes, he will moan a lot. Be prepared to hear his usual calm collected voice squeaking and whimpering which each thrust of your hips.

Take advantage of that, touch him, talk to him. Don’t be harsh with Kazuha though- no degradation, teasing is acceptable, but poetic verses and loving words will be his favourite.

_-_-_-_

Your hands were gentle against his hips, lifting his ass up and spreading his legs at just the right angle. Beneath you, he squirmed just a tad bit, face buried into the bedsheets as his stomach faced the bed, unable to look at you.

“You’re doing so good,” you whispered, your hands at his hips leading to his ass. You softly rubbed the flesh, squishing it in your hands and molding it to expose his needy little hole. He only mumbled something against the white silken sheets, muffled.

You drew your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them to leave them slick and wet. Tender as you rubbed them against his hole, you slipped them in, slowly pumping in just to stretch him out. Under you, he began to clench the sheets, whimpering something and calling out your name.

Your harness was already tied around your hips and ass, ready as you positioned yourself over him, doggy style.

He jolted when even just the tip touched his tight little hole. You could see his hands shaking, face buried deeper into the mattress. You gently put a hand over his shaking one, pressing a kiss on the back of his neck. “Do you remember that Haiku you wrote me the other day?” You asked him, hoping to distract him for just a moment.

“Y-yeah…” he mumbled back, and you slowly slid the strap on farther down his ass. You felt him shiver against you, thighs trembling at the unknown feeling.

Stretching him out farther, he moaned when you got halfway through. “Mhm, me too.” Your thumb gently stroked the backside of his hand as he quivered beneath you. “It went something like this I think…” You slowly slid the strap on father down. “Sun and moon rejoice…”

He gasped, whining as you eventually did manage to shove it down his ass. His tight hole clenched at the unknown feeling, pleasurable waves rolling back at him.

“Birds of dawn sing songs anew,” you continued, beginning to thrust in and out at a gentle pace. You wished you could see the expressions he was making, the flushed look or the pleasurable one. You could imagine his eyes rolled back as he moaned into your thrusts.

You sped up.

He now tried to meet his ass along with your thrusts, trying to reach deeper and deeper until this unknown knot building up inside him would untie itself. It was uncomfortable, but it felt so good at the same time. Your words sent shivers down his spine.

“Far from home,” you stated at last. “With you.”

Kazuha hummed, clenching his bottom lip to swallow down the moans and whines. “You remembered,” was all he managed to mumble. Half pleasured, half in awe.

“Of course I did.”

Somehow, that made it all the more intimate, and Kazuha wished he could completely give himself to you. He loved you with all his heart, especially with how you made him feel so warm. So full, so happy.

You thrust faster, hands slowly drifting back to his hips so you could thrust his ass into the strap on. You could tell he was coming close with the volume of his moans, thighs shaking and hands raking up and down the beside.

“Y/n…” he cried. “Y-Y/n-”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Kazuha can be really loud during sex, so make sure that if you’re anywhere public, or on the Crux, to somehow keep it on the quiet side- last thing you want is a grumpy Beidou. “I cOuld heAr yOu hOrny sHits all niGht.”

Venti is quite literally a bottom. Theres really not much convincing you have to do when it comes to actually getting him down on the bed and being in control. Actually, I have a feeling it would take more convincing to get him to be in control, mainly because he likes to be on the receiving end.

When it comes to Venti, despite his delicate small form, you can easily be rough with him. Degrade him and show him that compared to you, he’s nothing. All that Barbatos shit is nothing compared to you, your hand on his neck choking out all his noises and thrusting his dick into you. 

Tie him up.

Or rather, do anything you’d like to him. Venti is by no means fragile. He wants you to be rough with him, push him till he thinks he’s gonna break.

But you’re gonna have to have some hella nice aftercare prepared afterwards.

“Worship me, your god.”

“Worship you? You are nothing but my slut in bed, now get down on your knees and ‘beg.’”

Overstimulate him. Make him keep count everytime he orgasms until he can’t remember anymore. 

“How many times now…?”

“Too much… too m-much-”

Make him cry and cling onto you if you were his lifeline. Because you’re the only thing he can hold onto when you’re shoving his hips inside your pussy. You’re everything to him, he needs you.

It doesn’t take too long for Venti to actually submit himself fully to you, babbling incomprehensible words. Crying out your name, begging for you and agreeing with anything you say.

Venti can be extremely obedient.

_-_-_-_

You were enjoying the view.

Leaning back into the cushioned wooden chair, legs spread and wide as the smaller boy sat on your lap. He squirmed, hands tied in scratchy rope that kept his hands unavailable to him, leaving him bare and vulnerable to you. His chest was puffed out, nipples bright red as if begging to be sucked.

“Hurry up now,” you began, your unwavering eyes boring into his wide ones. “You were so confident before as well werent you? Telling me to worship you, Barbatos.” You just barely skimmed the skin of his back, up his neck and clenching the locks of hair. Pulling his hair back to get the full glory of his face, obedient for you. “All I see in front of me is a little slut.”

He grinds his throbbing member against you, needy while his lustful eyes peer at you through lidded lashes. “P-please…”

“Please what? Speak up.”

He fidgeted with his restrained hands, flashing a pouty look your way to see if it’d draw a reaction. It didnt. “Put my cock in your pussy,” he instead whimpered, moving his hips closer to your entrance.

You just leaned deeper against the chair, waving your hand to the side as if bored. “You want to bury your dick in my cunt? Go do it yourself then.” He glanced up, pleading eyes as he again pulled at the restraints on his arms. “Go on, I’m waiting.”

Whimpering, he tried to push his hips into you, his cock missing slightly and just pushing against your thighs. He felt so hot, the contrast of the cold air that tingled against his bare skin. His length throbbed and his chest pounded, your little touches igniting fireworks across his skin. “I ca-cant…” he sniffled, again thrusting his hips only to be meant with your thighs. 

You stayed quiet.

Your stare only made his member harder, and he was now lost in the sensation of rutting his hips into your thighs. The stimulation felt good, but not good enough to get him off. No, he wanted your pussy, your calloused hands roughly holding his hips while you drove him into you. The need drove tears to his eyes, thighs shaking with anticipation as he continued pumping feverishly against you.

“You really cant do anything without me can you?” Was your harsh reply, hand positioning his cock right in front of your entrance. Venti only mewled in response, cut off by the sharp motion of your hands on his ass thrusting into your entrance. He was now panting, head leaning against your shoulder for support as you pumped him in and out relentlessly.

“Y/n!! Its.. mm, so g-good.”

“As it should be, your dick belongs to me.”

And he just nodded, letting you take full control of the pace as he laid there and moaned. He couldn’t even manage to push his hips along with your hands to chase his release. Just submitting all sensation to you and the feeling of your walls clenching around his length.

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Make him worship you, sit down on the chair and tell him to suck all your juices dry. Degrade and tell him he’s lucky to get any taste.

Zhongli is pretty open when it comes to trying new things when it comes too sex, considering that with how long he’s lived, its probably nothing new. Nevertheless, the best way to convince Zhongli to go along with whatever you’re saying is just telling him, “Let me make you feel good love.”

Zhongli won’t be fazed by what you decide to do, no matter how kinky or odd it might be, he has no doubt seen worse somewhere else.

You don’t have to worry about being gentle with him, and he won’t really be fazed if you decide to degrade him. Of course, it doesnt turn him on as much as whispering loving words in his ear does, but he wont object either.

Very obedient.

Zhongli knows what he’s getting into, and he never goes back on his word. He says he’ll do something? He will do it.

He’s the god of contracts after all-

“Ah… so tight, just for me?”

Touch his face.

Whether its having your hands around his neck, brushing your thumb over his soft cheeks, or giving him soft forehead kisses, he’ll love it. He wants to make eye contact with you during it, always. Even if you’re the one in control, he wants to have you in his sights as he moans out your name.

_-_-_-_

You were gentle at first.

Tightening the straps on your hips, you adjusted their positioning as you climbed on the bed. The silk sheets were soft against your knees, soft on your hands as you crawled overtop of the archon. He was laying flat on his back like you’d asked, hands resting against the sheets palms up as he stared up at you. Pensive, waiting.

You went to press a kiss to his lips, one hand at the back of his neck as you bit his bottom lip. Just like you’d asked, he didnt use either one of his hands to hold you or press you tighter against him. Just melted against the rough feel of your lips against his. When you were done, you lifted yourself up to get a good look at him, satisfied with his swollen lips and breathless gasps. You held your fingers to his mouth.

“Suck.”

He was compliant, taking your digits and swirling his tongue around in expertise. Coating them in a slick layer of wetness as you pull them out. You get more of a reaction out of him when you press your fingers against his hole, slowly sliding them in. 

“Good, just like that.”

You delved in the sight of your fingers disappearing into the clenched hole of his ass. Sucking them in greedily and making a ‘pop’ when you pulled them out. 

Taking a deep breath in, he hums into the sensation of your fingers slowly filling his ass. He isn’t impatient, instead letting you take slow torturous thrusts of your fingers in and out without complaint.

It all changes when you pull them out and align the tip of the silicon strap on to his hole.

Because you were being nice earlier, coaxing him with your gentle touches and peppering him with kisses. You knew he expected you to be kind, to handle him with care with each thrust. To say that you loved him and him to say the same.

Nothing wrong with surprises.

It must’ve been a nice surprise by the looks of it, because when you fully sheathed the strap on into his ass in one stroke, his back arched, a moan escaping his lips as he now clenched the sheets. Eyes wide and mouth wide and panting, you thrust in and out without mercy, watching the strap on disappear deeply into his ass before you pulled it all out and slammed it back into him. A pattern that had his eyes rolling back and mindless sounds escaping his lips.

Your hands, gripping both sides of his thighs, propped them up on either of your shoulder. Zhongli through his dazed eyes managed to give you one confused look before you pumped the strap on right back, and the angle had him crying out your name feverishly as he curled his toes. His walls clenched tightly around the silicon, the strap on reaching so far in his ass that all he could do was moan and cry for more.

“So pretty,” you commented, another hand stroking his hard neglected member. “Just for me.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - For someone new or someone who hasnt actually dominated anyone in bed before, Zhongli is a perfect first option. Will provide no judgement at all, and might actually help you out if you get nervous.

Dainsleif prefers to be in control, to have full superiority when fucking you. He doesn’t see any reason for you to suddenly act like the boss, after all he respects you and would never do anything to hurt you. However, if you give him a reason to force him into submission, he’ll put up a fight, but will eventually sink down for you.

Tease him.

Dominating Dainsleif is a one time thing, which means you have to take advantage of it with all you can. Drink in all of his expressions because believe me when I say you wont see them anywhere else.

Tell him this is ‘punishment.’

When he asks what he did, don’t answer. Just grab the hems of his jacket and throw him on the bed. Strip him bare and tell him that you could list all the things he did, but you want him to think about it instead.

And he does.

He’s always the one coming home to tell you he needs a good little fuck after work. And then you’re laying on the bed while he takes out his frustrations, and you know he doesnt mean to hurt you but-

“Say it again.”

“I’m… I’m s-sorry Y/n. Please do-dont touch… mm, don’t touch m-me there- ah!!!”

“Again.”

So you do the same with him, and he lays there and takes it like a good boy. Because he deserves the punishment, at least you’ve told him that much.

Degrade him.

Overstimulate him and don’t let him orgasm, keep edging him on like Kaeya and don't allow him to have even an ounce of the release he’s craving for. After all, this is punishment, you arent giving him any rewards.

Stroke him and bring him to his orgasm, only to pull away. 

And while you edge him, whisper dirty little things in his ear. Of what you would’ve done if he wasn't being punished, how you wouldve made him feel so good. Till he was crying your name nonstop, till he couldn't walk the next morning.

Oof, better luck next time Dainsleif.

_-_-_-_

His hips bucked feverishly against your hand, the slick juices covering his dick making a squelching noise every time your palm slid up and down his length.

Dainsleif was panting, hands tied behind his back and knees tied to the bedposts as he laid there in all his vulnerability, His legs were spread wide and exposed, wet with precum just for you. 

“Y/n… please…”

You weren't sure how many times you’d heard that sentence tonight, certainly too many. And even if it was his nth time that he’d reached his climax and you didn't let him orgasm, it didn't matter. This was punishment, he wasn't supposed to like it, he was supposed to lay there and take it.

“Shut up you slut, if I want to let your pathetic little cock cum, I’ll let you.” Your thumb rubbed the tip, eliciting a gasp from him. “And if I don’t, you’ll just have to put your big boy pants on and deal with it.”

You lowered your head till your face was in line with his growing erection. As if he could sense your plans, he twitched in your grip, groaning in want, in ‘need.’ Slowly, you pressed a kiss to the tip, letting him know exactly what you planned to do.

He squeaked out in shock, or rather, as high of a squeak as he could manage. His voice was still rather deep afterall.

“If I wasnt punishing you… maybe this wouldve been my pussy instead.”

But you didn’t stop, opening up your lips to slowly suck the head of his dick. Your other two hands strokes his sides, groping and feeling around his hard length.

“If you d-do it like that… I’ll… I’ll…”

Your mouth widened to swallow more of his dick, tongue swirling around the tip as you sunk deeper into his hips. He squirmed, legs trying to thrash around but held by the restraints on his knees. Moans and whispers escaped his lips as he tried to move his arms to no avail. He was coming close, he could feel the sensation grow from the pit of his stomach, member tingling and warm as you sucked him in.

He was so close… almost there… just a little more and-

You pulled away.

Licking your lips, your hand wiped away any stray liquid on your face. 

“If I wasnt punishing you,” you began mockingly. “Maybe I would’ve let you cum.”

And Dainsleif was left to simply hit his head against the sheets, a groan of frustration escaping his lips as his throbbing member pulsed with need. 

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Blindfold him. He won’t know when or what you plan to do, and that makes it all the more arousing.

Scaramouche would never in hell allow you to top him, or anyone else for that matter. He is always in control, he is always thrusting into you as you sob for him, beg for him. Until he’s not. With Scaramouche, its simpler than you think, but it does involve the fact that you need to be strong. Physically, because Scaramouche without his hat and vision is basically useless :’)

Make him earn it.

Stay away from the short boy for a long time, tease him when you see him, and deny him any release when he wants to fuck you. He came back home from a tough day at work and wants to fuck you silly? You’re not there. He feels horny one night and tries to find you? Make yourself disappear.

He’ll grow needy.

And here ladies and gentleman, is where you strike. Because poor little Scaramouche needs you so much that he might even be willing to bow down and follow any of your commands so long as he gets a release.

And you better damn well take advantage of that.

Make him go on his two very own knees, make him ‘earn it.’ Earn the right to have you pleasure him.

“Lick my juices until thats the only thing you can taste, the only thing you’ll want to taste.”

“Yes… maam…”

“Louder.”

“Yes maam.”

“I said louder you whore.”

Degrade him, make him feel like nothing compared to you. Because just for this once, this moment, you can. 

Convince him that he is nothing without you, that he needs you to survive.

And then after that, grab his hips and thrust his dick into you. Until he lost count of how many times he’s came. Till he’s hanging onto his consciousness by a thread and is fucked silly by you.

_-_-_-_

“Fucking slut.”

You leaned into the chair, watching as Scaramouche thrust into you again and again with the help of your two hands on his hips. Eyes dazed and clouded, he could no longer focus on the details. He didn’t notice how you degraded him, how it was basically you that guided his cock in and out of your pussy. 

But he was gone, far too gone. Sensations around his body sent him on a rollercoaster, and his dick felt numb, the slightest tingle of heat climbing up his chest. He felt good, that was all that mattered in him dumbed up state.

Your hand came to caress the skin of cheek, a sickening laugh erupting from your lips as you focused on the way he stared at you. “I fucked you dumb didnt I?” You cooed, never stopping the motion of your other hand guiding him in and out of your pussy. “Fucked you so good that you cant even talk.”

He just hummed in response, lips breaking off into a moan.

“Good,” you whispered to him, pulling his head closer to rest against your shoulder. “Such a good boy for me.”

And then your hands were on his neck, squeezing slightly to alter the pitch of his moans as you lead his face down to yours. Till you pressed a kiss to his gentle lips, a once in a lifetime opportunity where you could take control of the kiss, of him. Licking his bottom lip and sliding your tongue in to rub against his. Lips parting to kiss, his dumbed out whimpers a musical melody in tune with the pace of your hands dragging his dick in and out of your overstimulated cunt. 

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Uhm…? Run? Similarly to Childe, Scaramouche aint gonna react positively in the morning. Might discard your body for seeing him in that state. Jeez… what's up with the harbingers….

_-_-_-_

On a side note… after writing this, I kinda feel like I’ve discovered I have a choking kink… ;-;

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact venti #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact dainsleif #genshin impact childe #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact hc #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact writing #genshin impact fanfiction #venti x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #scaramouche x reader #dainsleif x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin lemon #dom reader #smut #anime

[silksaddle]

The Traveler 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!reader Western AU

Chapter summary: 1907, Old West. Talk of the Statesman gang is slowly on the rise while Jack continues to distract you from your chores, taking you on another but entirely different night-time outing. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, guns, mentions of alcohol and gangs, copious flirting, SMUT, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex/piv sex, outdoor sex, thigh spanking, please pardon me for the amount of smut content in this chapter, a crumb of plot development, Jack Daniels again...

Word count: 14k (leave me alone)

A/N: gif credit to @javier-pena once again! thank you my beloved astrid! and as always, much love to my amazing friends who sent me inspo posts and listened to my anxious ramblings about god-knows-what. you are all the best and you have my heart.

Read Chapter One ~ Series Masterlist

Chapter Two: Six Shooter

Jack is spreading his half-naked body over the mattress in a contented stretch when you return to the bedroom, flustered and hot-cheeked.

“You here to take my sheets, darlin’? I must insist I keep ‘em,” he chortles, turning his bright face over the soft pillow as you attempt stripping the sheets from under him, your lungs emptying in a huff when he catches your wrist and draws you to him instead. Your body lands perfectly on top of his with your weak protest, a poor match for his irresistibly gravel-like voice and his buzzing snugness.

“You’re making my job quite difficult,” you mumble into his neck, kissing the smooth skin there although your words are much more harsh. His chest rumbles, fingers running the length of your clothed back from when he’d hurriedly laced you back into your dress, lips skimming graceful but mindless lines on your temple.

“Mrs. Adler thinks you’re doing your chores.” Jack’s palms are now ghosting over your shoulders as you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking his gaze with you as you move, and you can tell your dilating pupils are betraying the falseness of your annoyed tone when you look at his expanding chest. He takes a deep breath in, the angle of morning light catching his eyes just right to melt them into golden flecks, his dishevelled hair incurable without a bath. 

You card your fingers through, and though it’s slightly tangled, the texture is silky enough to brush through the messy state and straighten it out, just a smidge. The touch causes his eyes to flutter closed, and shimmying up his body, he leans his head back to expose his neck further, the long lines and tone popping against each other. His breath hitches when he feels your own puffing across it, his chest immobile while he waits to feel something more from you, but you don’t kiss him, don’t nip him, don’t caress him there.

“I’ve only come to take your sheets to wash them— I should already be downstairs,” you insist and he mopes, your voice softly carrying throughout the bright bedroom, limbs absent-mindedly wrapping around his firm ones until he clings to you.

“Oh,” he hums, tipping his body until you roll under him onto the no-longer-fresh sheets, landing on your back with his hands cradling your head. His handsome smile makes you forget you ever needed to take his sheets in the first place, and when he kisses you deeply, moaning low when you open up for him and his bare skin slides over you, you don’t even remember where you are. “Thought you’d wanted some more of me…”

“Mmm, Jack— she’s already a little suspicious of me,” you giggle, wriggling underneath his heavy weight and it’s a futile effort beneath his affection, his lips laying warm insistent kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. He’s unstoppable, whether it’s the heaviness or the happiness that makes you lie there and take it with quiet laughter as the rough skin of his cheek touches gently to yours. 

Jack is as much the sunshine of the room as the real thing, chuckling sweetly along with you and growing more pleased the louder your squealing sounds become, your fingers pulling across the bare skin of his back— he likes it too much to let you off in a timely manner.

Mrs. Adler had only just believed your excuse of a poor sleep as you’d rushed out in a tizzy with your disheveled hair and clothes, and a terrible flourish of panic had bloomed in your chest at the thought of an unchecked mark lingering on your neck. But Jack had looked you over meticulously; deft fingers had worked at the laces of your layers. And even before making it to the kitchen, two dozen kisses wet on your thighs, you’d opened the door only to find the old woman pacing about on the landing of the stairs. Slamming it shut with your back on the wood, panting in the face of confrontation, Jack snickered and peeked out for you a minute later, confirming your chance to slip out undetected.

Now finished serving breakfast, Jack once again prevents you from carrying out your tasks.

“You’ve left me with a lastin’ impression,” he rasps, eyes crinkling as he slips a hand under your skirt and the touch tickles and inspires a giddy laugh from your throat as you swat him away, at last slipping out from under him. 

“Give me your sheets, you greedy man,” you order, lifting your chin and furrowing your brow with your arm extended. Jack purses his lips and thinks, sitting up to run a hand through his dark hair, your smile growing despite yourself when it sticks up in bulky curls to leave his contented face in view. 

“These sheets have got your smell on ‘em now,” he grins like it’s his most favoured fact in his whole life, leaning back into his palms and his cock is slowly hardening between his legs as he considers his next words, “your cum is on them.”

“Jack,” you chuckle, “you’re dirty.” Inching closer to him, his joyous face turns dark when you arrive in the middle of his strong thighs extending past the edge of the bed, “Get up, please, or I’ll have you explaining why I’m behind schedule for the second time today.”

He presses up onto his feet, his gentle scent covering you as if a fleeting spell, and before any more rational thoughts occur, your hand is reaching into his unbuttoned pants, wrapping around his hard length. His head tips back, the softest growl filling your ears and he pushes his hips forward, placing his hands on your cheeks, urging your lips to slide along his as he fucks into your tight fist. It’s a sweet kiss compared to his already desperate thrusts, his cum still streaking your thighs, inside of you, outside of you, from mere hours before.

“I told you I’d come back here tonight. We’ve plenty of time to ruin more sheets.” Your whisper earns a heavy sigh expelled onto your skin, his grip sliding down to your neck and as his mouth hangs open, you nip at his bottom lip and pull it into your mouth, a tender suckle on the plush softness. He hisses as you let it go, burying his nose into the curve of your neck, and stilling his movements with your hand, he lets you work him like that— your fingers tightly curled around his cock as you slide it in and out of your palm. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, “I better see you back here if you’re gonna touch me like this, darlin’.”

Smiling, you pump him quickly, whispering how you can still feel him as if he’s fucking you right now, how good he is, how thick, and he growls from his chest, shutting his eyes tight in concentration.

“Maybe you’ll let me touch you tonight, too, Jack, leave your ropes for another time…” Your free hand clamps around the back of his neck, twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of it, before tugging him down for a slower kiss, capturing his striking whine in your mouth.

“Shit, darlin’... I’d do anything you say right about now… Christ,” Jack’s fingers trace the neckline of your bodice as his lips skate along your cheek, and his voice is so husky and rumbly, you almost consider a greater risk of trouble.

He makes no protest as you bend carefully, still pumping his thick cock while you yank the sheet away from the mattress, pulling back to fold it into your arms and finally leaving his hard length unattended. Jack’s eyes snap open in a crushing neediness, his displeased but wrecked voice calling after you in a bid to keep you here and he laughs incredulously, “You get back here right now.”

Backing up into the door, your lip caught in your teeth, you reach behind and find the cool handle, offering a cheeky grin before you slip away and murmur, “I’m busy.”

-

A mellow afternoon follows Jack’s disgruntled exit to the fractional post office, stealing a rushed kiss in the corner of the parlour for the mere seconds you were alone together, giddy glances spared through the window on his walk to work. You spend a small segment of your time concocting tea for Mrs. Adler who pours over the payment book, thanking you as she slides a list across the bar; it’s full of all things you know to do without the help of paper and pencil.

“How about that Mr. Daniels?”

Spluttering, you swivel on your heel, unsure of the intention of her question, your eyes mistakenly blowing wide with no answer to fill the subsequent silence. She must know, you worry, she must.

“What about him?” You query, looking down at your apron in no need of smoothing, yet your hands fiddle with the pockets, and her amused scoff scrapes through your uneasy stance.

“My, you’d better sleep well tonight... that man whipped those fools down in a second,” she laughs, flipping the page of the large notebook and scribbling something down with a spotted, shaky hand. 

“He did.” Wiping your face, you conceal a sliver of a smile under your hand when you think of him— ease and cockiness burned down to his big pleading eyes looking up at you for permission. “Thought you disliked him.”

“Well, I could admit we need someone like that around here more often,” she croaks as you pretend to look over the list of laundry, sweeping, cooking, cleaning. The sentiment lands somewhere uncomfortable in your chest— you no more than agree with her and you could never tell her why or how.

“Oh, and dear, the sheriff came by this morning,” she adds, relaying his spiel of reports.

Only the most notable happenings make it over from town to town, lawlessness rendering crime nothing more than irrelevant. It takes a mass robbery, or a mammoth fire, or an offense so deeply doused and coloured red in rage to make the rounds of neighbouring settlements, so when Mrs. Adler shares the spreading news of heightened gang exploits a little ways north, your heart sinks and adopts a painfully heavy sensation.

“He advises to be extra careful,” she finishes with a stern look, “they could be coming here for all we know. Those Statesman men are horrible…”

“Statesman?” you echo her words, scouring the back of your mind to place the familiarity of that name, but she smiles in return to soften your worried brow. Statesmen, a Statesman. You’d read it somewhere, embellished into leather or stitched into the label of a visitor’s coat while tidying.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. If anything, girl, that Daniels boy should be of use.”

A challenge not to snicker, she gives you, when she tells you not to fuss, as if you’ve got the liberty to enjoy the outdoors where a vigilant attitude is required— but Jack is the remedy, you think, eyeing the stray strands of her brittle grey hair twisted up, scrunching your nose.

“Alright, Mrs. Adler,” you agree, passing her through to the laundry closet.

The air is stuffy inside the small, shelved room, where pleasing, cooling, tiny splashes pepper your forearms as you pour the water bucket into one of the tubs, then grabbing the soap, you flump onto the short stool and drag the laundry basket to your side. The first sheet on the pile is the last one you’d taken— Jack’s— carrying his heady and wood-fiery scent now mingled with yours. With a vibration of anticipation up your spine, your thoughts twirl upon your admittedly cruel handling of his need— tonight, you’re surely in for it.

The usual, slowly passing and hot hours fill with inescapable reveries toeing the line of unrealistic: a cloudy day in bed, a sunny evening at the river, clothes discarded to the side. Shaking those heart string-stretching thoughts and trading for a better focus, you hang the wringed sheets on the line as the last blazes of the sun spread over the field, and take a moment to rest your elbows on the log fence at the back of the yard overlooking the vast, lush area. 

Something heavy, once more, tugs at your weary limbs, watching the calm breeze push along the beige blades of plant-life, and you think of Sylvie— her bright mane and soothing demeanor, the rush of riding with her and him. The thrill no longer chased, waiting for you still. There must be a few months worth left of him, two at the least, perhaps enough to soothe your aching heart in seeking more vibrant days. But before too long, you set back on your course of chores, trekking up to tidy the bathing rooms for those coming back from a dirty day.

Jack finds you there an hour later in the open door, kneeling on the floor by the bathing tub, scrubbing away at its already-shiny exterior, and he smiles under the sticky and sweaty clothes, watching the way your body jostles with movement.

“Hey, cruel woman.”

Halting, your head briefly hangs between your shoulders before you sit back on your heels and grin up at him, his weary feet leading him towards you, a set of clean clothes hanging off his arm. His shirt is sheer in some places more than others, namely his chest, damp with muscular effort. 

“Did you have a hard day, Jack?” You question, making big eyes at him from your low spot compared to his tall height, and his face grows slightly stern.

“Oh, darlin’, you know I did,” he kneels, takes your chin in his hand and you find yourself leaning up into his face, mere inches from his lips, entranced by their pouty curve. But he doesn’t kiss you. He pinches your chin harder, a deep pressure as he looks over you, taking in the way you indulgently advance until you’re on hands and knees, caged by his own, staring at him with none of the power you held this morning.

“You oughta continue what you started…” he whispers almost on your lips, never close enough to touch, your eyelids heavily drooping as you look down his torso, leading to his cock.

“Oh,” you sigh, slick pooling where he can’t see or feel it, “Jack, I can…” 

You crawl forward between his spread legs until your nose nudges the material of his pants, resting your weight back on your knees when you reach out for him, but his face is a sinister, knowing grin when steadily rises back up to stand, rocking into his heels.

“Not now, though,” he coos, swiping a damp thumb over your lip, “off you go, little lady.”

“Why—”

Whining involuntarily, you watch while he shrugs off his suspenders and closes his eyes, fluttering back open with a smirk at Mrs. Adler’s distant call for you to prepare dinner.

“That’s why.”

Your mouth hanging open, you roll your eyes, taking his calloused hand as he aids you upward from the hard floor, though he finally gives you a greeting of a peck on the cheek, “Later, angel, you can show me what you’ve been thinkin’ about all day.”

Nudging your body, he sends you off to your chores in a frazzled state and shuts the door with a wink, settling in to wash himself off from the dust and dirt.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so needy, it nearly feels stupid to still have the crushing weight of wanting Jack as you chop ingredients, peek into cupboards, fill plates. It’s even worse when he sits at the table, clean and fresh and irresistibly smooth, chatting in easy conversation with Mrs. Crockett who enjoys his company dearly as she tells him uninteresting stories of her husband. 

He watches your back as you turn about the steps, as you pass along plates to each person, and he brushes his fingers purposely along yours when you arrive at his spot, a gesture to offer his silent token of appreciation. Your breath catches, and his wink sets it free again through a quiet sigh, smiling sweetly for him. He tries not to laugh, you notice, and you stop yourself from touching his shoulder here in front of everyone— namely Mrs. Crockett, who has also made a poor reputation of gossip and a budding friendship with Mrs. Adler who is closest to her in age. The last thing you can manage is a rumour about your little life; by that point you’d be begging Jack to take you with him even before the post office is built, even with so much left to explore with him.

As the chitter-chatter diminishes down to an empty table with empty plates, and the visitors disperse into corners or run off to different buildings— they always come back for dinner to get their money’s worth— you sort out the dried laundry, slipping into the ladies’ rooms to aid with corsets, all with distant thoughts in a place where they shouldn’t be. They never ask about your day so much as they speak of theirs, whether time spent with their sweetheart, telling you how they prefer their things folded, or muttering how much they liked dinner. The last one you take lightly, thanking the ladies in whispers. Now, though, it doesn’t cause as much of an ache in your heart when you listen to their free and happy memories— you think of doing the same with Jack, of asking him and receiving his sweet smile in return, ready if you are.

When you finally sit at your simple vanity, it’s with a powerful sigh that you remove your boots, step out of your clothes, and trade them for your nightgown. You pull the threaded pink ribbon taut into a bow, and look over yourself in the mirror, giddy in your stomach for when the time comes to slip into Jack’s room. Judging by the clock, another half hour would do to be sure everyone has settled in so you can sneak in complete privacy, and it feels less daunting now than it ever did before.

Folding your petticoat to lay the soft cotton on the tabletop, you hear the handle click and turn and you gasp fiercely in response, rising from the chair as Jack all but barrels in, haphazardly shutting the door before swooping you into his arms.

“Oh, my—” you squeal, cut off by a rough kiss that you eagerly return, bombarded with the scent of his soap and shaving cream. You only urge him off with your hands sneaking between your bodies to press on his chest and ask a burning question, his lips not wanting to part from you. It’s a tiny struggle but he eventually gives way, fondly looking down at you as you speak. “Did anyone see you?”

“Hall was empty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you… lost my damn patience,” he croons, plushy lips open on your neck, leaving kisses that bloom into pleasant flourishes of need like ink dipped into water. It’s a new spot that you allow him to explore, bringing your hands up his wide shoulders as you turn around the room together, stepping at random. “Had to keep from touchin’ myself and dreamin’ of you…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, reeling him in closer for a whisper against the shell of his ear.

“You don’t have to dream, Jack, I’m here.”

His breath stutters uncharacteristically and it must be your chance to keep him like this, his pleasure dependent on what you decide to do with him— so you pin your front to his and he grunts, giving a miniscule, testing rut back.

“No more teasin’?” he asks hopefully, sweet brown eyes glowing in the low light of your little lamp. “You weren’t so nice this morning…”

“Oh, Jack, I’m not so sure about that.”

In a mirror of the morning, you slip your hand lower to find his cock hard again, splaying your fingers over its thick length and rubbing over the fabric. He squeezes your waist, digging his thumbs in helplessly as he staves off a groan in a bid to keep what willpower is still left with him, then loses it all when you place a simple kiss to his collarbone, not open or rough or wet— just plain, pressed lips to his skin, and he asks you for more.

“Will you let me touch you this time?” you murmur, urging him backward onto the bed. He slumps over the mattress, eyes trained on your face as he places himself further up with his legs spread, palms sinking into the covers. He swallows thickly when he takes you in: standing over him in the sheer, light fabric of your nightgown, its lace edges bordering the slopes of your body.

“I want you in my mouth,” you continue, lowering yourself to your knees, hands over his own as he shuts his eyes and breathes deep, long breaths, grunting when he feels your fingers working at his buttons. “Think I’ve earned it.”

“You could ask me for anything you want, darlin’... shit—” His thighs tense under your ministrations as you reach in and pull his cock out, the tip of it shining in his own, generous arousal. He looks down from himself to your sparkling eyes, and cups your cheek in his large hand, its smoothness traveling down the curve of your face. “Anything you want.”

His lip twitches, mouth falling delicately open and his eyes shutting once more as you place your tongue flat at the base, licking upward, circling around the head while you watch his face strain and pull, his neck sticking out prominently. He’s gorgeous when you touch him like this, still so fresh and clean from the bath. The warm drips of precum glide slowly on your tongue as you hold it out, then wrap your lips around him, whining when he fists through your hair and cramps his fingers.

“That mouth is just about gonna kill me already,” he rasps, bucking his hips up a smidge to perch himself deeper in your mouth, your hand rising to cover his at the base of your neck. Its heat is dangerous yet satisfying in its revelation of just how affected he is, a tiny spot of sweat swiping from his palm onto your neck.

Blinking up at him, you pull off, wetly sliding over half the length of him before moving back down to take more, feeling it brush against the back of your throat. You keep him there as he squeezes you harder, his spine curling over you and the new sound he makes is just begging to be heard, but he smothers it with a bite of his own lip to quiet it.

“Like that…” he sighs, carefully canting his hips forward as you wrap your fingers around his base, enveloping him and spreading the wetness of your mouth over his entire length.

He glistens like that, shimmering in the low and golden light, fisting at the blanket and your hair, puffing focused breaths every time you take him deeper, longer, sucking him harder.

Up and down, you keep your lips wrapped snugly around his cock, its throbbing heft a pleasurable weight on your tongue, the satisfying hit of the head at your throat.

“Where have you fuckin’ been,” he nearly laughs in disbelief that you’re even here, much less on your knees, much less with your mouth around him.

Pulling off for a deep breath, you trace the edges of your nightgown, eyeing him and his debauched, handsome face as you bring the lacy straps off your arms, leading them from your wrists. “I’ve always been here.” 

The fabric gathers at your waist in a soft pool of cotton and ribbon, your chest bare and level with his cock.

“Do you like that, Jack?” you preen, settling closer to him this time over the hard and truthfully painful floor— you don’t notice it as much when you feel him hitting that spot all the way down your throat.

“You know I do,” he smiles breathlessly, crinkles and that little dimple creasing in his content face. He leans down for a kiss, its nature unlike the urgency of your own mouth wetting his cock— it’s always sweet like he is to you in every other way, lingering there before you lean into the space between his legs, eager.

“I wanted you all day,” you coo, running a thumb over his tip, a saturated kiss placed there before you put him in your mouth for a brief suck, managing to keep him inside for a few short seconds. “I should have felt so tired after what you did to me, but all I could think of was this.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he then lets it go in a gravelly sigh as he holds your bobbing head in his hands, spanning the sides of your face. Your forehead brushes his soft stomach as you push down, hollowed cheeks hugging every inch of him and he jolts, driving himself the smallest bit further, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you. You pump him, looking so falsely innocent between his legs, your chest and shoulders bare for him to admire, peeking out of the fine gown.

“Keep goin’ darlin’, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth up... know you want it down your throat, bet you thought about havin’ my cum drippin’ from your mouth all day, too, hm?”

Licking the tip and rubbing him faster, you nod fervently, opening wide in a stretch to finish him off with firm squeezes and strokes, his breaths now raggedly rough from above you every time he hits that spot. Your mouth is hot on his skin and he warns you he’s going to cum soon, he’s going to fill your mouth up nice and good, and you shut your eyes tight in concentration, focused on the thick feel of him sliding in and out between your lips.

“Wanna see you when I fill you baby doll, c’mere n’ look at me.” Jack’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, and you strain to look upward before you slide your hand over his slick cock. He tenses up by another degree, his chest and forehead damp, throat straining as he swallows thickly. 

A final squeeze and he cums all over your extended tongue, the milky liquid sliding off and onto your chest as he moans through gritted teeth, dazed as you are as you both watch it drip all over your exposed half. You swallow what remains in your mouth, letting your jaw drop to show him your now clean slate.

Bending into you and still panting, he smiles, streaking his thumb down your chin to gather up what’s left, guiding it into your open mouth. Heart racing, you take it in, your enthusiastic glow causing his face to soften.

His gaze drifts south to linger on your glimmering chest, pressing his palm flat and firm into the slight pool of it. He paints you with it, spreading his cum all over each breast with a clear sheen from the separation, special attention granted to each nipple with a flick of his wet thumb. Its initial warmth has cooled and with it lingers a soothing cover over your front as you lay your cheek over his knee, toying with the worn laces of his boots.

“Now… how to thank my darlin’ girl and her perfect fuckin’ mouth…” Jack wonders aloud as he cups your cheeks in his hands and puts a contrasting, innocent kiss to your forehead.

Grinning up at him and placing your hands over his, you tell him that’s all you wanted to give him, all you needed was to finally feel him in your mouth.

“Well,” he whispers, “I wanna show you what I was thinkin’ about all day long.”

The spark in your eyes must be a blinding one, his hands gliding over the slope of your body as you work yourself back onto your feet, your knees throbbing and sore. Wincing, you balance yourself on his broad shoulders, glancing down to notice his eyes not relieved of their dark hunger.

“Jack, you’re…”

“Not done, angel,” he finishes for you, and that’s when you feel it, the slick dripping past your core to spread slightly down your squeezing thighs. He pushes his sleeves up as the corner of his lip tugs upward too, straight teeth glinting the same as his eyes.

“Your turn, then,” you murmur, parting his hair through your fingers. It falls back into place, his pillowy and gentle lips finding yours as he stands with you, always chasing you, waltzing you backward until your ass bumps against the thick windowsill.

“I was choppin’ wood, thinkin’ of settin’ you right here,” he confesses lowly, ensuring the curtains are drawn completely open with a quick swipe of his hands over the gauzy lengths previously covering the glass, “thinkin’ of fuckin’ you on my fingers like this.”

You situate yourself properly on the sill and he steps back, taking a comically focused once-over of your seated body, but the desire is still so thick it doesn’t even bring you to laugh when he hurriedly comes back to you. He spreads your thighs wide, his palms a fiery heat that couldn’t be further from where you want it.

Tugging at his collar, you reel him in to place an open kiss just under his ear. “Give it to me how you want.”

The glass cools the staggering temperature on your skin as he knocks you into it, your back sticking to its chilly surface in the midst of his swirling breaths, ghosting the edges of your shoulders before he hikes your thighs up higher to his waist.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs with a husky voice, and it’s a powerful shock from your head to your toes, seeing how easily he’s worked back up to needing you as he lowers a hand to your core. His fingers part you, a slick and effortless slip through your folds to your entrance. “Darlin’... you’re soakin’ my hand already. Did suckin’ my cock do all this to your sweet little cunt?”

A hushed, restrained sound tears from you and is quieted by his mouth covering yours when he rubs his calloused fingers over your clit, rasping those low words sweetly into you, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth as the digits travel lower. The arousal dripping from your cunt makes that first slide so easy, Jack bottoming out to his knuckles with a soft sigh. His stomach nearly touches your own still covered by the bunched nightgown and he pauses there, a reassuring squeeze to your side and then a smooth gracing of his free hand to hold your thigh tight to himself.

“This is where I’ve wanted to be,” he confesses, his nose drawing a line from your shoulder, delicately down to your chest as he bends and swipes his tongue broadly over your sensitive nipple. The signals from your brain to your muscles are jumbled now, feeling the heat of his wet tongue tasting the cum on your chest— it’s out of your control when you arch your back into him and whine, when your fingers tangle into his hair and tug.

He responds in a groan, licking across your skin to your unattended nipple which he suckles on gently, lapping at it. Jack curls his two thick fingers before straightening out to kiss you fleetingly on your lips; he parts and watches your eyes intently, a stray curl falling to hang between his brows.

“So full already, hm?” he teases, his thumb swiping slow patterns on your clit, and you lean further back into the glass with a pant, its surface no longer able to cool you down.

“Yes,” you manage to respond in a gasp as he grants a second, deeper hit, a slight slapping sound causing you both to hug each other tighter and chuckle.

“Tight, sweet thing,” he groans, extended curls and strokes stretching you wholly around his hand, “take my fingers just right. Is that it, darlin’, were you made for me to fill you?”

“Mm,” you suck in sharp breaths, “mhm, you fill me up, Jack, you fill me up so good.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his chin hooks onto your shoulder, digging into it hard as he holds you with one toned arm snaking around your waist. Like this, your damp chest brushes his, his fingers pump and work you open another smidge wider as he pushes in, grinds his palm against your clit, pulls his fingers out a fraction of the way. The motions of his hips against his own wrist are gentle, unhurried for now, having already cum into your slack mouth.

With the flat of his free palm caressing your back through soft strokes, he draws his lips back and forth over the curve of your neck.

“You know what I see?” he asks, urging his knuckles deeper in the hardest plunge he's given you tonight, an agonizingly fiery touch to your clit. “Men, walkin’ around all dumb— could see me fuckin’ you right here on my hand if they’d just look up— shit, they got no clue I’m feelin’ the wettest little pussy, huh?”

“Fuck, Jack,” your nails dig into the lean and muscular bulge of his biceps as he keeps you upright against the glass, your thighs squeezing him so close he can hardly fuck you anymore— he just rubs and grinds his hand against you while remaining far inside your aching pussy, soaking his already drenched fingers with more slick.

“And only I’m gonna watch you cum,” he adds in a grunt, working himself into you with every last drop of energy he’s saved, his soft moans and sharp teeth spurring you closer to coming all over his perfect fingers. You might have gone longer if not for the irreversible, desperate need for him that sucking his cock had instilled in you— had you nearly dripping onto the floor, your body left unimaginably sensitive that each time he brushes up against you now, you dig deeper into his skin. He likes it though, and it makes him move with a crazed edge, his moans transforming into snarls.

“Only you…” you echo, starting to grind with him yourself, rolling into and meeting his short, fast thrusts, every muscle tensing and straining and it’s so close, almost there—

“There you go, doll, can feel you squeezin’ me so tight… cum on my hand, fuckin’ soak me, c’mon…”

“Jack, Jack I’m gonna—” Urgently, you tap at his shoulder with wide eyes and worried brows as you feel it start to happen, knowing how close you are to crying— your nails dig into his shoulders so intensely when you cum, jaw dropped and eyes shut and he makes a wincing yet completely pleased noise into your mouth; it’s cruel. You manage not to make a peep at the cost of losing large breaths, and it makes your orgasm all the more intense: light headed, woozy, and tingling numbness reaching the length of your body.

“Sweeter than fuckin’ honey when you do that,” he smiles widely, until his mouth drops fully open at the way you hug his hand inside from coming so hard around him. Your slick gathers between your thighs and you still can’t breathe, his face buried into the spot under your jaw as he pulls them out of you, dragging the pads up to your clit while the rest of it spreads throughout your folds. He stares down at it, at the wetness dripping and glistening from your core, and he groans again, blinking slowly.

Placing his palms on the sill by either side of your trembling figure, he hums, your smile against his skin buzzing at his insatiable drive, how he’d fucked your mouth and your pussy with such short rest, feeling the damp hair at the back of his neck. He drops his head down as an offering and you take him in a gentle cradle, kissing his forehead as he’d done to you while he nestles. He looks up and back down, waiting for another, your fingers smoothing the unruly hair from his face.

“Hell, if I don’t wanna fuck that pretty pussy every night till I die,” he exhales, another glance at his wet fingers, dropping a kiss to your collarbone.

“Oh, Jack,” you laugh, your heels hitting the wall underneath you, “if only you were here for that long.” 

His face scrunches a little in confusion before his lips curve, “How many times do I have to remind you I ain’t leavin’ so soon?”

“As many times as it takes,” you whisper, fingers scratching down his arms, his own dipping into your cunt again without a warning, “fuck—”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he croons, “I got somethin’ to prove to you still?”

You nod with a greedy smirk and he retracts his fingers, taking them into his mouth after drawing a line between your breasts to taste your mingled releases, moaning in your ear. “Go n’ get on the bed. You’re gonna ride my face.”

A shiver chills your spine, mainly at the way his voice has dropped a miraculous third time, his hand landing a light swat on your ass when you pass him, shaky legs taking you toward the mattress. He follows to lay on his back, perpetually pleased with himself, arms outstretched and beckoning you forward. You crawl up to him and you can feel your own cum streaking your thighs as you move, soon beside his large body, and he raises his brows impatiently, “Well go on, sugar, I wanna taste some more of that.”

Stretching his neck every which way, his eyes crinkle as he grins between your thighs while you throw one over his shoulder and his arms fall behind him, fingers searching for yours until he laces them together, squeezing.

“You’re not tired yet, old cowboy?” you tease lightly, the force of it lost when he gives a broad swipe of his tongue and moans yet another time, indulgently, swallowing the remnants of your previous release.

“I ain’t ever gonna tire of this,” he replies, another lick from your entrance to your clit, such an easy slip of the muscle, your sensitivity dialed up too many extra notches. His brows knit together in effort, rough cheeks pleasantly scratching on your skin when he moves his head side to side, tongue hanging out of his mouth and edging with a perfect pressure all over your sensitive bud.

“I’d hope not,” you exhale, grinding your hips over his wet mouth until his grip moves to your thighs to prevent you from moving. His eyes look up at you keenly as he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, your head tipping in silent rapture as you take it all for him without the relief of motion. 

“We go real nice together,” he grumbles into your slick center. Tightening the hold of your thighs, he laves his tongue all over you in focused circles, faster, with just enough force for your legs to start shaking around his handsome face, for another gush of arousal to spread over his swollen lips. All that’s left for you to handle it is to scream it out, how good he makes you feel, how precious, but the house is so silent and only you can hear the slick sounds of his mouth on your clit— he won’t even let you rub yourself over him. You can only bite your lip and hold your breath, yet little puffs and moans sneak out when he does something unforeseen, like a single bite on your thigh or a gentle nip to challenge you— it’s all on purpose and easily noticed by his gratified face.

He tugs your clit a short, miniscule distance and lets it go, shaking his head when you mope over the loss of contact.

“Are you tryin’ for me, sugar?”

“You’re being tough on me,” you whine, shimmying further up his body to regain his lips that are brightly shining.

“If I ain’t tough then it ain’t right,” he whispers, “stay still and quiet for me and I’ll take you out again.”

He tips his head down and forward, swiping his prominent nose to spread you further open, but you don’t even consider the promise of a gift, your focus on the return of his soaked tongue to your throbbing core, biting hard on your lip to quell the need to cry.

“Is my darlin’ gonna come? You gonna cum all over my face? Gimme another one, dolly.” His mouth latches back onto your clit and you can’t think, much less form an answer in your blank head where all you see is white, or maybe blinding stars, or just plain nothingness as you let go, his moustache wet with you, his lips dripping.

By some miracle, the scream you fend off becomes so high pitched in your throat that nothing makes it out of you save for the helpless cry of, “Jack!” as you tremble around his cheeks.

“Yes,” he grunts, and thank goodness it’s muffled by your soaking core; your fingers finally escape his hold to grip at his hair with a fierce, unforgiving tug, and that softer sound fills the room again while your body freezes up and you cum harder this time, covering him, coating him. He grumbles something again, but it’s nothing you could hope to make out in the crushing wave of pleasure that hits you— the light sensation does not leave you, though the shaking eases off as Jack places a tender kiss to your clit, and you jolt at just that velvet brush, his eyes turning sympathetic. You breathe deep, slumping with great exhaustion and the dazed happiness of having him in your room now as you lift your thigh from his body and he leans his head up to grant a quick kiss while it slips away from him.

“Knew you could be quiet,” he smiles under the shine of your second release, resting his arms open over the blanket to welcome you into them.

“As if you don’t make it hard.” Huffing, it’s with a reciprocal smile that you crawl back to him, nearly toppling over on your way with the weakness of his own power against your body, and he chuckles at you, not shying away from his joyous teasing when you throw him a half-glare.

“Did I wear you out again?” he questions, guiding you into his side, turning his body over yours to swipe his tangy tongue over your bottom lip.

Whimpering, it turns into a cheerful giggle as he drops pecks over your nightgown, wrapping his finger around the tail of the ribbon. 

“You just keep going, don’t you, Jack?” you cup his face in your hands, and it’s now that he adopts a sheepish expression, turning his eyes away to tilt his neck and kiss your stomach once more.

“Until you ask me to stop, darlin’.” He lends two more kisses, one to each breast, and then gathers the straps of your nightgown from the pooling of fabric underneath your chest, tenderly helping your arms through the holes. You admire him quietly as you sit up to ease the gesture, letting his fingers guide the intricate lace edges back to your shoulders. He pats the cotton down to smooth it, your thumb stroking over his left eyebrow. His hands pry under you to wrap his arms around your middle, his cheek resting over your belly as you scratch through his dark hair. 

“I think you’re softer than you realize,” you whisper, twirling a lock around your finger and he peeks up, the apples of his cheeks rising in a twinkling smile.

“I can shoot a gun a million times but I sure don’t like it more than kissin’ you,” Jack coos, tickling up your sides and swatting away your protesting hands until you make an involuntary squeak and his eyes widen, hurriedly covering your mouth with his own. You titter over his smooth lips, his weight pinning you as he opens his mouth, taking more. “I’d think I’d have sold my soul to the devil to end up here with you if I didn’t know any better.”

You let the next bubbling ripple of affection take over you when he whispers that with his gleaming eyes, and you kiss him three more times, each slower than the last.

He rests there for some time, indulging in the carding of your fingers over his scalp, and he ensures you’ve drifted off before he rises in search of a cloth. He finds a green one folded by your petticoat, his fingers briefly dragging across its white lace before he dips the cloth in the small dish of water left beside it. He crawls back up beside you, lazily yet with careful attention guiding it under your slip and over your breasts, relieving you of the stickiness. You stir but don’t wake— his touch is too light, yet still unlike a feather— he cleans you off, sets the cloth back in its spot, and resumes his position, nestled up next to you.

-

Sneaking into Jack’s room— or him into yours— becomes a habitual routine after the goodnight click of Mrs. Adler’s door, though you often find yourself with an early visitor with eyes too bright and a needy little grin on his face. It follows his giddy lips on your neck hours before in scarce moments of isolation from other guests, or after he’s stared too long across the bar, and to ease the tension, he’ll ride to take Sylvie to stretch her legs, a sympathetic look on his face at the door knowing you can’t join.

And he wears you out. Nightly. A simmering threat to your timeliness in the morning that you can’t let go of. A single time, he’d taken the sheets with him in a rapid roll onto the floor as Mrs. Adler knocked and knocked outside, calling for you to rise, until she barged in and the thump had to be blamed on yourself, standing in your disheveled chemise. Her shifty eyes become less of a fear in your head and more of a laughing stock, though not as much as Jack was in his stupid course of action to thump on the floor behind the side of the mattress, taking the blankets, too.

His dignity is not lost, though, each time you press on him about it— his grip tightens over your thighs as you straddle his lap, feeling the impression of his leather settling into your skin.

A rare clump of clouds settles over town the following week, lingering long enough to darken this evening further and forcing an early lighting of the lamps inside, a cozy glow over the hectic and crazed state of the bar.

“Let’s not slack, dearie,” Mrs. Adler sings in her urgently high-pitched voice as you handle the treacherous beast of the card game hours, handling too many requests for the strongest liquor from the cabinet, working your wrists as you open new bottles and impatient sighs crumble out of overworked throats.

Jack glances at her, a rapid flick of his angry eyes as he sets his glass of whiskey down, furrowing his brows in obvious disagreement with her words.

“She’s doin’ fine,” you hear him grumble, and you don’t have it in you to turn and face him to offer your surely-silencing glare, and without it he continues, “think we could offer a little patience.”

Chest fluttering, you shut your eyes with a bothersome huff, setting your hands flat over the counter as you wait for Mrs. Adler’s response, and the other men waiting at the dining table chat over things well beyond you, another fleeting mention of the Statesmen— but Jack remains silent along with her, and you can already picture the way he must be maintaining a hard stare at the old woman to leave her increasingly frazzled.

“My girl does this every day,” she states primly, blocking his view of your back with her own body after an uncoordinated waddle, “you keep out of it.”

Jack scoffs, soft but pointed, the wood groaning under the slide of his glass as he moves it aside, “If you cared to notice, ma’am—”

Spinning on your boot, away from the assortment of glasses set over the counter in their stage of finishing touches, you raise a hand, his first name almost slipping out until you choke on the unspoken word, widened eyes earning a mirrored expression from Jack, “It’s alright, Mr. Daniels,” you soothe, and his smirk is much too telling in his amusement of your spluttering, that you’d called him the old, proper name.

Mrs. Adler huffs a victorious breath as she checks over the full and heavy tray, granting approval while you giggle at Jack’s silly face made behind her back, followed by a wink of his eye. 

He closes his eyes as Mrs. Adler finally limps off into her study— what she achieves in there he does not know— and watches you with affection and a warming dose of admiration in his stomach as you handle the tray, setting down shining crystal glasses on the table, a soft smile on your face as the youngest card player offers his thanks. They rarely ever do.

“You look real nice,” he drawls as you round the counter, his elbows sliding along the surface as he leans in, all sparkling eyes and teeth with his wide grin as he follows your steps. “I think I’d like to get my hands on—”

His words fall away to a whisper as you shake your head in feigned annoyance, the laughter stealing your breath as you lean opposite him, taking in the sly look on his face and the pull of his shirt across his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, tentatively, and you’re powerless against the sweet touch on your fingers as he traces them out, pulling your palm into a bed of his two hands. 

You watch as his eyes set on the random patterns he draws, eyelashes curling against his face every time he blinks, your conscious mind soon oblivious to your placement in relation to the large group at the dining table— but it doesn’t matter. They’re as absorbed in their gambling as you are in his focused touch and feel, your heart an obnoxious flutter when he smiles up at you, a perfect mix of kind and sultry darkness. 

“I’d like to get my hands on you,” he murmurs, those repeated words spoken lower this time and with a twinkle, raising the back of your hand to his lips. A gentle press, your eyes locked together in a soft gaze to match, and he gives you back your hand as the spell of slowed-time is broken by a shocking round of cheering from the group behind you both.

With a subdued grin, you ease yourself away from the magnetic pull of your lips to his, “You’ve always got your hands on me.”

“And in,” he huffs, stifling a snicker at the fifth roll of your eyes today, watching the ends of your tied apron’s ribbon swing around over the length of your skirt. 

“You’d better find something to do in the meantime, or I’ll be asking Mrs. Adler to send you off herself.”

Jack shudders in a fake paddy of fear, the miniscule shakes of his body diminishing the sooner he realizes the severity of your words, and he merely chuckles. “Why’d you want to get rid of me?”

The pleading pull of his face and the wide and warm eyes he gives are somehow not enough to stop you from gesturing your head towards the pile of dirty dishes from dinner, waiting beside the basin. “You’re distracting.”

“Sweetpea, I’m ‘fraid that’s what you’ve got yourself caught up in,” Jack rests his chin in his palm, eyeing the clearing weather outside, “if you insist on woundin’ me, I think I’ve got a horse who needs to go for a ride, and a little lady who’ll have to join us next time…”

“I’ll see you later, Jack,” you whisper, rounding the edge of his ear with your fingers, easing his hair back into place and he adopts a light blush— softer things always more efficient in pausing his heartbeat than harsher things— and he grabs his hat left to the side of him, placing it over his head and bidding you a caring goodbye, “Miss me, darlin’.”

-

Once the room has cleared at last, leaving you in that familiar spot with soapy hands, sore feet, and a wandering mind, you arrange the wet dishes to dry, stacking each on top of the other with meticulous attention. You dry your hands on the fabric of your apron, rough cotton soaking up the water, your back leaning into the hard edge of the bar behind you. The strain in your neck grows sharper as you push your head back, groaning, willing away the next few hours until you can put your feet to rest upon Jack’s lap. 

And at the thought of him, a whistle from the exterior shoots your stream of mental pictures down as your head whips to look out the window, and there he is— Jack, thighs spread wide over Sylvie’s back as he urges her to stop, his eyes straining to find you through the window. Stomach twisting, you make a speedy trip to the stash of berries hidden away, and you pull a handful of them into your apron’s pocket before sparing the parlour a thorough peek and slipping out the front door.

It’s not loud enough for you to make out, but it must be Jack’s voice in a baby soft tone as he tells Sylvie what sounds like “there she is,” with a pat between her perky ears and a smile towards you. 

“Hello,” you grin, stepping to the edge of the porch where you meet the two of them, shamelessly devouring the way he sits tall upon her in the dying sunlight clear of clouds, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, a bandana hugging his neck under his glistening throat. “Back so soon?”

“It was her idea,” Jack pokes, leaning back in the saddle as Sylvie adjusts her hooves into place over the dust and sparse blades of wheatgrass. “Suppose I had to lead her here, though…”

With a hand gliding along her wide neck, you watch his smile only grow in size as he watches you gather the berries from your pocket and throw a quizzical look his way, to which he nods enthusiastically, leaning forward again to watch and guide.

You call her name softly, approaching her from a better angle, and she makes an odd pattern with the movement of her head before she digs into your offered palm of treats, her wide mouth a great tickle on your skin that you try not to flinch at.

“Nice girls,” Jack whispers, swiping his hand over Sylvie’s shoulder, then turning his attention to you. “No more flak from the lady, I’m hopin’?”

“No, haven’t seen her since,” you giggle, “you know, Jack, that was kind what you did, but I am still fine.” 

Sylvie chomps down the rest of your stash of berries, licking the leftover juices off your palm as you gasp, retracting your arm, and Jack extends his hand far across to you in a warm beckoning. You give him the dry one and he laughs when he notices, “I ain’t afraid of no horse’s mouth,” steering you around to where he’s sat on the saddle.

“You’re not even afraid of Mrs. Adler,” you say bluntly, resting your laced hands over the meat of his thigh and then your chin on top, and Jack stares down at your widened eyes, his chest stuttering with a slightly choked breath.

“I came here to see you, darlin’, to tell you somethin’.” Running his thumb over your hand, he starts to lean his body down, your own straightening for his lips to meet your ear in a warm breath, sending ice down your spine and a melting heat between your thighs.

He waits for your prompt, his radiating need causing your posture to wither as you slant up and into him, “What is it?”

Whatever upward curve your lips adopted seconds before falls away as your eyes close, that heat between your thighs now wetter, your grip on his leg tight enough to pinch.

“I’m gonna take you out again tonight, gonna lay you in the grass and fuck you dumb, listenin’ to you whine loud as you can.”

He’s utterly pleased with the visible, hitching breath you can no longer take in, your chest pausing in its stunted passing, and he straightens up his back again to look down at you with his face shadowed under his hat. “Ain’t that somethin’ old girl, the little lady is speechless…” Jack coos to the horse and she puffs, followed by another pat of her hoof on the ground, and his grin is a mix of genuine and egotistical happiness.

“Jack,” you purr, all bothered and wobbly-knees, a helpless look in your eye as you tug the looped rope, and he prepares to ride back off. He doesn’t partake in your pleading this time, instead giving a squeeze of his legs over Sylvie’s back.

“Same place, darlin’,” he calls, “I expect you.” 

A backward glance and a tip of his hat as courtesy— or to make up for his foolish teasing— and his figure dies off in the gunpowder dust behind him and his girl, his jacket the same one you’d worn your first time away. 

-

It’s cool and dark the next time you step out onto the porch, carefully shutting the door behind you, locking it with your key. You rub your hands over the sides of your arms as you creep over the wood, peeking past the pillars before descending the three short steps. Same place, he’d said, so you set off in the direction of the stables, bathed in the soft light of the spaced lamp posts, the same exhilarating rush as the first time bubbling head to toe. 

“Ever heard of a sweet little maid ‘round here?” Jack’s happy rumbling sounds just behind you, turning into laughter at the yelp you let out, its sound squeaky and fearful until he catches you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest to sway your body around aimlessly. “Works for a Mrs. Adler, prettiest face you ever saw…”

An endeared giggle falls out of you, mouth covered immediately by your hand when he comes to place his chin on your shoulder, his fingers pressing tightly to your middle. His clothing feels rough by your neck, unlike anything else you’ve felt him wearing against you, but his cheek is soft and freshly shaven, his lips hungrily kissing behind your ear.

“Oh, I’m not so sure I have…” you murmur, allowing yourself to sink backward into his promising support, and his hum is sweet into your skin when you say so, arms squeezing you just enough for your feet to lift from the ground. 

“She’s got angel eyes,” he whispers, a finger coming to trail down your cheek as he lets you back down, until his hand cups your chin, turning your head sideways to capture your lips in a deep, swelling kiss. Your own hand rises to mirror his gesture, knees suddenly like water with their wobbly weakness, and the ball of your foot scrapes over the dust as he tugs you even closer, tasting your lips. 

“That might ring a bell,” you smile when you finally part, stroking your thumb over his jaw. He likes the way it feels, tilting himself further into your light grip of his face. The world surrounding you will never be the same level of interest when he stands before you— a daydream of an outing only seems as sweet if he’s there. A guidance, of sorts, a protector.

Roaming your eyes over him, a surprised gasp follows that welcoming kiss when you notice his top half covered in a navy blue poncho, its edges finished with white tassels and the wool adorned with white lines making intricate patterns over the length and width of it.

“Where have you been hiding this from me?” you simper, picking up the edge of it to feel the slightly scratchy material. He grins, weight shifting to one foot with a cocked hip, hands resting at the base of his suspenders underneath.

“Hidin’ it?”

“You’ve always got that jacket on,” you murmur, leaning upward, grabbing his face in an internal fit of fondness at seeing him covered in the blanket-like garment, giving him a harsher kiss that surprises him enough to nearly stumble backwards. He gains his balance, beaming against your mouth as he steadies the both of you, the world returning.

“You sure keep me on my toes, little lady,” he breathes, brows raised in bashfulness that you forget he has stored in that cocky brain. “Don’t you stop.”

Humming, your hand falling to rest on his chest as you recall more private contexts to his last words, you notice he wears a cross-body leather satchel underneath the poncho. “What have you got in there?”

“I can’t be full of surprises if you wanna make me spill ‘em all,” he teases, pushing his nose into yours, “come on, just you n’ me tonight.”

With your fingers laced together, Jack leads you through the familiar field to an unfamiliar spot at the top of a climbing hill, large rocks worsening the upward trek under the minimal light.

His hands find the backs of your thighs as he helps you over the last hump and your frustrated huff gets lost in your throat when you realize his hands are helping you up under your skirt instead of over.

“Jack,” you guffaw, using your biceps to push up and over the hard surface and he plays dumb behind you, a deep chortling following as you roll over to the flat space of dry grass above it. Looking ahead you notice a small gathering of wood placed in a circle around the center of the clearing in the trees while Jack rolls up next to you, much more gracefully with what must be years of practice.

He shares a sideways glance with you, “What?” 

His pouty lips drag downward in his falsely innocent question, your eyes rolling without annoyance but with affection. He grabs your hand again, tugging you near the woodpile and he reaches into the satchel, revealing a box of matches in his palm.

“Is this what you did earlier?” you ask, a bewildered softness easing over your shoulders, and he nods with a grin.

“Sylvie n’ I came here to get it ready.”

Sliding the box open, he strikes the match against the rough side of the cover sleeve and the spark ignites a smoking, small flame that he holds to a coil of waxed thread under the arranged sticks and wood. It catches on and flourishes upward, sprinkling tiny sparks that rise then fall by Jack as he recoils, standing back up to his feet.

“How’s that?” he looks at you, pulling you into his warm side, your fingers instinctively wrapping around a tassel. You raise your other hand to hover over the fire, its heat so pleasant and lively on your skin and you look back at him with the same fondness as always for his generous gifts, that might not even be considered a gift to anyone else but you.

“Thank you, Jack.” On your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek filled with all the words you can’t think to say— it’s only a campfire, and to you, it holds all his care, burning there.

“There’s more,” he whispers, and his fingers rise to touch where your lips had just been, then he looks to them and you, smiling. “Said you wished you could run,” he starts, pointing to an old, battered tin can sitting atop a tree stump several feet away, “reckon there’s a few things you’ll need to learn first.”

From underneath the wool, he pulls out one of his revolvers and it shines in the flickering fire, freshly polished. He extends his hand, your own hesitantly touching it’s handle, cupping the barrel with the other as you slowly hold it on your own.

“Jack, I really don’t know about—”

“Careful,” he coos, circling back to stand behind you and placing his hands on your hips, he helps you adjust your grip with the beginning of his lesson whispered into your ear, his hands gentle as they cover yours. “Two hands.”

“I’m not sure I’m the gun slinging type,” you whisper nervously, your palms becoming clammy just handling the weapon, and you remember when its silver glint was pointed at Mr Porter, under its power.

“Always assume a gun’s loaded,” he continues, aiding you in extending your arms out, the aim at the can improving as you go. “Feet apart.”

With the toe of his boot on the inside of your ankle, he pushes your feet further apart until shoulder-width, and your shoe slides over the dry grass as you suck in a deep breath at the physical order. 

“Hold it tighter,” he whispers next, ensuring your fingers are hugging the grip tightly, your other hand cupping the trigger guard firmly. “Don’t leave your finger on the trigger unless you’re aimed and ready.” 

Jack is rasping now, a growing hardness on your ass from watching you handle his own weapon with determination and he pinches your hips, inciting a gasp as you try to keep your arms steady.

“The cylinder's full,” he adds, “you hit the can and I’ll make good on my promise.”

With the shot of arousal that comes after his words and the reminder of his promise to fuck you hard over the grass, it’s too easy to convince yourself that you’ll miss every shot.

“Won’t somebody hear it?” you question, turning your head as far as you can and he hums thoughtfully, pinching you softer.

“It’s luck if you hear a gunshot from a distance,” Jack soothes. And it hits you, that when Mr. Porter and Mr. Bryant started shooting blindly in the house, that those were the closest bullets had ever been to you— and here, you hold them in your palms.

“Go on, sugar, knock it over and I’ll fuck you right by this fire.”

A whine escapes you before you can aim it again, the grip even sweatier than before, the fire merely a glint now as you focus on the target tin.

Locking your grip around the handle, your pointers steadying the direction, you shut one eye, then the other to test the placement, and you pull back the hammer with a stretch of your thumb.

“I’m scared,” you breathe as your arms remain pointed forward, and Jack nods, applying pressure to your shoulders with his palms.

“I’ll keep you steady. S’okay if you miss.” Jack rubs some of the tension away, your arms growing tired from holding them up as you make one last adjustment. The jolt when you pull the trigger is more powerful than you’d expected, and Jack keeps you still as your body reacts to the sharp sound and the full shock of it. The bullet only just skims the side of the can, a tinkling sound following the jarring shot from the barrel.

“Fuck,” Jack breathes, his eyes wide and his smile too, when he looks from your near-shot to your frightened face turning into confidence. He throws his hat to the side, smoothing his hand through his hair before bending slightly behind you, “that was fuckin’ close, darlin’. Go again.”

His tone is pure excitement as you shake off the last lingering threads of apprehension, and you aim again, not a one inch difference from your first shot, pulling the hammer down a second time.

You place your pointer over the solid trigger and Jack’s breath hitches as he waits and watches intently, his hands still supporting your shoulders. This time, when your upper body jostles back from the force, the shot is farther off but still close, hitting the bark where a small explosion of wood chips scatter to the grass and you startle at the cracking noise, casting a worried look to Jack.

“Keep tryin’,” he soothes, cuddling his cheek to the side of your neck as he cozies up, and you’re certain it’s not the best condition for a shooting lesson, the middle of your thighs gathering slick and your palms more nervous sweat. With a deep breath, you stretch your arms out once more, muscles pulling up tight as you adjust your feet, your eyesight on the tin can reflecting the flames of the little campfire.

“That’s it,” Jack whispers as you touch your finger to the hammer, “focus.”

Scoffing, you settle your aim, determined to ignore the way he’s still pressing up against you.

“You’re doin’ great,” his voice scratches just before you pull against the trigger’s resistance and the bullet releases, harder it feels like, and pierces the tin with an incredibly loud metallic pang, sending it fast off the stump. Although you’re not too far from it, you don’t trust it yet; looking back down at the weapon in your hand and then to him, his smile already turns smug. It’s a surprise to hit it at the same time that it’s not— luck or natural talent, you don’t think you’ll ever find out. He shakes his head with pride dripping all over, crushing you into his side with a tense squeeze of his arm, your neck fitting in the bend of his elbow.

“That’s too quick,” you breathe in modesty that Jack tells you to shush away, as your disbelieving eyes fall back on the tree stump, tin can-less. “I wasn’t far away enough.”

“Come on, darlin’.” He disembarks, jogs to the stump, picks up the can behind it. A hole burns through the center on both sides. “Still shot it on the third try.”

When he arrives at your feet again, you peer down at the silver gun in your hold. Struggling to accept your own accuracy, you slowly hand it back to him.

“It'll be harder next time,” he purrs, sliding it back into its holster pocket, “but I think you’ll make the most charmin’ gunfighter in the whole damn world.”

“That’s your title,” you smile, brushing the dark hair from his forehead, curling your fist into the wool draped over him. “And the most handsome, too.”

Jack’s chest puffs out against yours as he preens at your softly-spoken compliment, the tone of his hum pitched in a questioning way to urge you on to continue.

“I’d rather like to learn more about that lasso,” you say instead, fingering where it’s attached to his hip, and he looks at you through his eyelashes, closing his hand around the one fisted in his poncho.

“Hell, if I taught you the ropes I doubt you’d let me out of your room for a whole week, darlin’. We’d better work up to that…”

“Oh well,” you tease, perching yourself up to level your lips with his ear, “you’re too soft on me to be my teacher anyway.”

“Too soft?” He raises his brows, eager to know, causing you to step back as he advances on you.

“Too easy. I ought to shoot that can three more times from ten more feet away just to be sure I’ve learned.”

Jack lays the thick blanket next to the crackling fire after pulling it out of the satchel, motioning for you to come.

“Sugar, I’ll show you rough,” he grumbles, dragging you down to the blanket with him, your chest thumping square on his when you land, a stunted breath into his mouth. His promise, listenin’ to you whine as loud as you can, returns to you now as he holds the back of your neck and opens his lips to brush yours, nipping your lower lip to earn the first wince.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you taunt, landing yourself rolled over and pinned under his heavy weight as he lifts the poncho from his head and drapes it over your bodies, hidden and warm together as you share the fiery heat of yourselves and the physical fire beside you.

“I’d hate nothin’ more than to disappoint you.” He keeps his eyes trained on your face as his fingers creep up your leg, a soft ghosting until he reaches the stark wetness compared to your dry skin everywhere but your core and he’s already groaning at just the sensation of your slick covering his fingers. “Think I could fill you right now, hm? Soakin’ me so fast…”

“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can,” you demand, your head tipping back against the ground underneath the blanket, heat accumulating in your own makeshift tent of the dark poncho. His fingers twitch over your clit as he watches your face twist in effort to get your last coherent thoughts out, “This is where I can cry.”

“Jesus,” his head falls into your shoulder and he rubs his cock on your thigh, covered by his trousers. He’s hard and thick, just as he was watching you shoot his gun, and he lifts your skirt higher, bunching the fabric at your waist. “You always get what you ask for from me.”

Blindly searching with your fingers, you find the buttons of his trousers and pull them open, carefully taking his cock out, the tip leaking generously onto your skin. You spread it for him though it runs out quickly, but your own burning arousal is enough for the two of you as he settles himself closer, his hair flopping out of place. His moustache brushes against your temple when he spreads your legs wider, a soothing slide of your skin over the blanket before you feel his cock running through your slick folds, and it’s enough to start whining. Even the little sounds you let out at the house are suppressed and quietened— here, there is no one but the two of you.

“Give it all to me, baby doll,” he rasps over your throat as he positions himself and pushes past your entrance, slowly stretching you open on his thick cock and your thighs fall open wider, too, your breath heavy and low for him to bask in. “Ain’t that sweet…”

Jack’s eyes carry the glint of the fire beside your bodies as he stays there for some moments, letting you squirm all you need before he flattens you to the ground with his chest, cooing encouraging gentleness to contrast with the untamed way he’s going to fuck you here, on the blanket, again. His cock pushes deeper with the added mass, your whimper not enough when he finally thrusts and hits his hips to your wide-spread thighs and works the wetness of you all over his cock.

“Ja— Jack—” you whine, and his hot hand soon comes to glide over the innermost part of your thigh, rubbing it firmly as if he’s about to—

He spanks your thigh and earns the high-pitch moan he’s been working for all along, drawing himself back to return with a harsh thrust as he keeps his hand on the stinging sensation, groaning out his nose.

“Fu-uuck, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he grunts through stunted breaths as he sets a new, punishing pace, sliding with ease in and out, hitting deep inside to brush against that satisfying spot that when he slaps the same part of your leg, the pleasure from both makes you cry louder, moan louder.

He draws the wool tighter around his back as he lowers his lips to your mouth, emitting an animalistic groan over your face when you clench around his cock and pull him in closer for another open-mouthed kiss, true and full.

“Oh, god,” you groan, his hand caressing the underside of your thigh, until he draws it up to push your knee on your chest, fitting his hand in the bend of your leg.

“Gimme more, sugar,” he demands, landing a sharp swat to the side of your ass lifted off the ground that gives him your neediest, filthiest sound yet as you fist his hair, taking his brutal pace. 

“Jack, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Fuck,” he curses back harder, “I’m gonna steal you every god damn night for this.” Jack hisses through bared teeth on your collarbone, keening when you raise your hips to meet his. The fire rises beside you at the same time a wave of building pressure in your abdomen knocks through your lower half, and you place your hands on his face, sliding them up to meet his hair.

A shaky breath puffs out of you, the sting of his spankings spreading over your leg as you crane your neck and cry out while he buries himself and grinds against your clit, “You just get wetter n’ wetter for me,” he remarks hoarsely, “just can’t help but need me, hm?”

“I... Yes,” you sigh into his heated neck, your limbs softening in their hold of him as he fucks you hard over the blanket, his grip deathly on the side of your thigh.

“I want to hear it, darlin’, say it to me,” he scrapes, his voice at the bottom of his register, and when the words get stuck in your mind and jumbled out of order from the fullness of your core, he draws himself out and rolls you onto your stomach. Mindlessly, empty, you whine with an equal hoarseness to his own, the end of it pushed out prematurely when he flattens his chest over your back, lining his cock back up with your soaking entrance.

“I’ll pull every last pretty sound you got left in you if I have to.” 

The words are a terrible blow to your senses, sparking a rapid increase in the sound of rushing blood in your ears as he pushes your thigh up to the side and presses down on it with his palm.

“Please…” you breathe, “I’m so close— fuck me, please fuck me again—”

Shutting your eyes, hoping to feel him push himself back inside you, you instead are met with a final, cracking swat on your leg that sends you wailing as Jack waits for you to scream it, “Tell me, sugar!”

“I need you, Jack— I need you!” 

It doesn’t sound like your own voice. Never has it been clouded by so much desire and such a sinful edge to your witless begging, but it’s enough for him. A push forward, and he fills you; his own sounds have grown needier too, reaching far out. He plants a hand by your face and you grab onto his wrist as he shoves his cock repeatedly deeper and at this angle, you could consider the punishing stretch of him painful, but it’s everything you need, causing you to whine a step higher every time his hips hit your ass.

“You’re all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’,” Jack mouths at your earlobe, your bodies turning slick under the poncho and your clothes, “here you are, shootin’ my gun n’ lettin’ me fuck your tight little pussy, beggin’ for me— gonna make me fuckin’ cum.”

Your jaw drops and an involuntary squeal stumbles from your hanging lip, Jack snarling behind you as he plunges again, hooking his hands under your shoulders and splaying his fingers wide over the tops of them.

It’s a taut stretch of your chest when he pulls on you like that, the soft curl of his hair tickling your neck as he nestles his face to yours and muffles his grunts and groans. You pull up tighter around him, squeezing his cock, nearly driving him to collapse over your back when he feels it happen and what is easily his hardest, neediest and wrecked groan tears out and spreads over your limbs with the rumbling breath he takes after.

“Jaaack,” you whisper, his movements heavily weighing on you, your body resting just at the precipice of something overwhelming, “So… full..”

“I’m gonna fuck my cum into that sweet cunt.” Jack fists the blanket with his supporting hand and the next time he rams his hips forward, a full-bodied scream fills the air, and once more, you squeeze him tighter as you cum hard around his cock, your nails starting to dig into his wrist as he fucks you through it. 

“Baby doll, you’re too fuckin’ good to me— squeeze me so fuckin’ tight when you cum, keep it comin’—”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god— fuck!”  You can’t stop gushing around him as his thrusts lose rhythm, as he focuses more on the sounds you’re making and the grip you have on his cock and it just won’t end, tears beginning to form in your eyes while the movements never cease.

“That is just heavenly,” he says with a strained laugh, “shit, you really did need me, huh? You want my cum inside you too? Want to be spoiled?”

“Yes!” you cry, miraculously raising your ass just a little against his cock as the orgasm finally calms, a growl and a bite on your shoulder at your ceaseless will to beg.

“Take it.” One final, gorgeous moan from his throat and he buries himself, a wet warmth painting your walls, his chest deflating as he settles around your back and rubs your thigh in a soft contrast to what was his stinging swats minutes before. He blows and pants to recuperate, and as he brings himself out, you feel the warmth spreading and dripping down to your clit. For a moment, you share the breaths you’re both trying to catch, but the sensation of his cum sliding over your skin is yet another obstacle to returning to a manageable state of being.

“This…” he whispers, taking his hand back, leaning on his other elbow to support himself as he slides his fingers under your skirt to lead them to your swollen cunt, “is my favourite, darlin’.” He spreads his cum over your folds, milky liquid sliding wherever he traces, and you push back on your knees to raise yourself for him while he guides it back inside you, your throat tired but still whimpering as he pushes his fingers in.

“Keep me inside,” he murmurs on your temple, urging you to lay back down over the plushy blanket, and as you relax, mussed and twinkling by the fire, he drapes the poncho over your body, tucking the fabric under your sides. He strokes your cheek with the dry hand, lifting your head to his lap as he carefully sits by you, your eyes delicately fluttering closed. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, and without opening your eyes, you shake your head no. Jack makes a purring sound, considering the moans his actions pulled out of you, and he begins to stroke your face some more. “Hope I never do,” he adds softly, studying your peaceful expression under the firelight and stars, “you’re soft.”

The last two words make you blink and smile up at him, finally granting him a peek which he returns with curved lips, and you know that “soft” doesn’t mean “weak” when he says it.

“I got an idea of where to take you next, if you think you can handle it...”

-

tags for yeehonk idiot:

@filthybookworm @frannyzooey​ @javier-pena​ @javierpcna​ @astroboots​ @userdindja @pedros-mustache​ @princessxkenobi​ @trashcora​ @writerdee1701​ @thelemongeneration​ @libraryofrecs​ @fan-of-encouragement​ @herb-welch​ @writeforfandoms​ @queenofthecloudss​ @leannawithacapitala​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @kesskirata​ @fuck-goes-on​ @lawfulgranola​@apascalrascal @prismaticpizza​ @xemmaloveskillianx​ @littlemissoblivious​ @quica-quica-quica @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @little-big-mac2​ @recklesswit​ ​@frankie-catfish-morales

let me know whether you’d like to be added or removed! 

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #pedro pascal #agent whiskey #pedrostories #userastrid #tuserdaniela #userdindja #xuserannie #userhai #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x you #western au #jack daniels i love you forever #no devil dealings here...

[biaswreckme]

caught in a lie | pjm

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Summary: As the heir of the King’s Conglomerate, sweetheart Park Jimin has been spending his time at the hospital run by his father, shadowing his footsteps. And it is where his life entangles with yours with lunch dates, caring touches, and whispered promises. But what happens when he finds himself caught in a web of lies?

Pairing: Chaebol!Jimin/Nurse!Reader

Members: Jimin, Jungkook

Length: 8.5k words

Genre: romance, angst, smut, strangers to lovers

Rating: 18+

Triggers/Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral (f and m giving and receiving), fingering (f receiving), lowkey dom!jimin, dry humping, praise kink, accusations involving drugs/meds, lying, incrimination

A/N: This fic is a two-shot part of the Sons of Midas collab. I wanted to start by thanking mars @joheunsaram so much for inviting me to be a part of this incredible collab with such beautifully talented writers ♥ and also for being my beta-reader, thank you so much bb ♥

part one | part two (June 25th)

You were sitting down having your lunch as usual, headphones on, watching a drama on your phone when you noticed someone settling opposite you. You had seen him a handful of times before around the hospital, but he was in a suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly that you could not imagine it being anything but expensive. He was always walking around, observing things, talking to people, but you did not think he was a doctor or another nurse or even anyone who worked there. Maybe he had a chance of being part of admin, but he looked too nice for that. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by his voice, so you paused what you were watching and took off your headphones.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” You were somewhat uncertain, not knowing what he wanted interrupting your lunch, but you noticed he had a tray on the table in front of him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” His big smile and the way it made his eyes turn into small crescent moons made it impossible to say no, but you looked around and there were empty places.

“Ok?” You asked, confusion stamped across your face. “Do I know you? Did I… do something?” You couldn’t help but ask, this was not an everyday occurrence.

“No, no, I just… I’ve seen you around, you seemed nice, so I wanted to sit here to keep you company, well, if you want to, of course. Whatever it is you’re watching certainly must be more interesting than a random guy asking to sit at your table.” He started to ramble and opened his eyes in shock. “I’m coming off as a total creep, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

You smiled, shaking your head in negation.

“You’re not, I've seen you around too. I’m Y/n Y/l/n”,” you extended your arm, presenting your hand for him to shake.

“Y/n,” he repeated, almost as if letting your name roll around on his tongue. But he stopped, seeming to think about what he was going to say for a moment before continuing. “I’m P… Jimin. Just Jimin.”

“Well, just Jimin, nice to meet you. If you’ve seen me, you might have figured I’m a nurse here. What about you? You don’t dress like one. Or like a doctor.”

“I’m… I’m a business student.” He hesitated, but he wasn’t sure whether you’d noticed.

“Business?” You asked, your tone clearly indicating you were not happy with his response. “Business… profits and losses are all you care about? This is a hospital, we treat people here, people who need and not always have the conditions to pay for it. This shouldn’t be a business,” you started getting up, and he did the same, hands up in the air as if trying to maintain peace.

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Please let me explain myself,” he begged, surprised by your reaction. “I’m a business student, yes, but I’ve been going around, trying to get to know the people who work here, the people who are the backbone of this place. People like you, that truly care about the patients.”

You sat there quietly, still unsure about him, but you were willing to listen. And you were glad you did. The more he talked, the more you could see the passion in his eyes the same eye people had said before they saw in yours when you talked about your job. You were still uncertain as to why he was giving you his attention, but for the first time in a while you felt yourself truly seen by someone.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were lonely. Moving to Seoul for the nurse position at the hospital had been an impactful decision in your life; it meant leaving everyone you knew behind and moving to a large city by yourself. By then you had some acquaintances, but no one you could truly call a friend. Your tendency to be more introverted and not open up to people that easily both protected and harmed you, but there he was. Jimin - wanting to talk to you, to have lunch, to get to know you. He got you a small bouquet of daisies once, saying he saw them in the florist on the way to the hospital and upon inquiring about their meaning, he said they reminded him of you. And so he took to calling you Daisy, and you started wearing a daisy pin on your scrubs, causing him to smile whenever you crossed paths at the hospital but could not talk to each other.

And soon it turned into a routine. If you had the night shift, he’d usually come by in the morning to have breakfast with you, taking you to the small coffee shop you adored. If you had the day shift, he’d be your company during lunch time at a hidden table at the corner of the cafeteria, choosing to eat your lunch later than usual to not be in any of the gossipers’ radar, your dramas long forgotten during this hour. You would catch up on them later, but you didn’t have to hide behind your screen anymore, in fact, you wouldn’t even touch your phone in his presence. You got to know more about him, but there was still some aura of mystery around his family, with him saying he didn’t feel comfortable talking about them, and you hoped that maybe one day he would feel comfortable enough to open up. But regardless, your conversations were always enthralling and you were filled with sadness when the hour was up.

That is, until the week routine blended into weekends as well, thanks to you taking the initiative. You had taken to cooking for both you and Jimin whenever you knew he would show up, so this proved to be the perfect opportunity - and excuse - to invite him over.

“This is delicious, Y/n,” Jimin started, almost moaning at the taste, “how can you be this good?”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” you decided to be blunt, “cooking in particular, but I have a wide set of skills.”

Jimin just sat there with his mouth open in shock, then blinked rapidly as if to shake some inappropriate thoughts away, but momentarily speechless.

“How about you come to dinner at mine this Saturday?” you asked, deciding to go for it. You liked Jimin and you were pretty sure he also liked you, if all the time you had been spending together was an indication of that.

He took a moment to answer, still seemingly speechless by your forwardness, so you spoke again.

“I’d like to get to know you more outside this hospital, Jimin. We’re always rushing because my hours are crazy, I just… I just want some quiet time with you. And no beeping or smell of disinfectant and people running with a crash cart interrupting our lunch or coffee.” You expressed your tiredness at the situation, always being interrupted by an urgent call or trying to avoid people.

“Tell me when and where and I will be there. I want to be alone with you,” he said, staring into your eyes, then quickly blinked and continued, “I mean, I want some alone time with you too, away from this, not implying anything else, I’m sorry.”

You chuckled; it was rare to see Jimin get flustered over anything at all, it was surely a change, and you could not wait to see what other sides of him you would get to know once you were away and by yourselves.

You opted for a casual dinner, after all, it was at your small apartment, but Jimin’s definition of casual was definitely not the same as yours. He showed up in sinful pants, tight, showing you his muscular thighs - you had learned he was a dancer, yet the muscles that strained the fabric were still a surprise - a black shirt and a leather jacket, which you had carefully put in the hanger by the door, leaving him to roll up his sleeves. You were wearing a black dress, no shoes, and some nice underwear just in case, as you had told yourself.

You had cooked something light, prepared a simple salad, and poured your favorite white wine to accompany the food. Conversation flowed nicely, and it was a nice change in scenery to be able to talk and laugh with Jimin without having to worry about being too loud or calling too much people’s attention. But as nice and calm as the situation was, the tension between the two of you was palpable in the air throughout the dinner. Whenever your fork touched your lips, he would stare, unconsciously licking his lips and taking his own fork to his mouth, his fingers tightening around the silverware.

You had finished eating for a while, just talking at the table when your eyes locked in an intense stare, and you could feel your breath starting to quicken. Jimin licked his lips slowly, his pink tongue darting out and wetting them, and your eyes could not help but focus on the motion. He bit his luscious bottom lip, seeming to think for a second, before closing the distance between your bodies. The position was a little awkward on the sofa, having to turn your bodies, one of your legs bending to give him space to get closer to you. His soft lips pressed onto yours and you felt his tongue seeking permission to deepen the kiss, his hand going to your neck to hold you closer to him, his fingers itching to entangle in your hair. You let out a soft moan when he deepened the kiss, his hand grabbing your neck so tight you could almost feel his short nails on your skin, and you whispered ‘bedroom’ in between kisses.

You wasted no time in pulling him up and towards the bedroom, mentally thanking yourself for having left the condoms in the drawer in your bedside table. It was a small apartment, so it was only a few steps until Jimin was gently pushing you on the bed, stepping out of his socks and hoisting your body up so he could lie on top of you. You opened your legs slightly so he could fit between them, and he slowly rolled his hips into yours as he kissed your neck. You grabbed his hair, your fingers tugging on his blonde strands while you lifted your leg and put it around his hip, pressing down, needing to feel him. Your dress was hoisted up, only the barrier of your lace panties and his pants (and underwear) between your bodies. You could feel his hardness pressing deliciously against you, and you pulled his hair to kiss his lips again.

His hands freed you from your dress, leaving you in the simple pair of lace lingerie, his eyes seemingly darkening seeing your body for the first time.

“You are beautiful, Y/n, such a pretty flower, I can’t believe I’m this lucky” he said, licking his lips while slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

You sat up, helping him in the process, wanting to feel his skin under your fingertips, pushing the garment away from his body. Your fingers immediately went to the side of his body, ghosting over the letters in his tattoo, then going for the deep v on his front. He stood there kneeling on the bed in front of you with his erection straining against his dark pants, and you pressed your hand against it, not hesitating to undo the button and pull down the zipper, and he helped you push it down alongside his underwear. It was a little awkward to take his pants off from his position and both had to maneuver, softly laughing at the moment, the tension and pressure of the first time easing in the room and leaving both of you more comfortable.

He helped you out of our bra, his mouth immediately latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, teasing, biting gently, leaving you a panting mess on the bed while his hand gave attention to the other nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. You could not keep your moans in, needing to let out your pleasure under his ministrations. You hoisted your hips, trying to have him press against you again when he changed his focus, but he was having none of that. He looked into your eyes while his fingers hooked on the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down, a string of your wetness visible in the light sticking to the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said as if he did not believe it, but continued, “can I taste you?”

You could only nod, spreading your legs further so he could lie between them hoisted by his elbows. You adjusted yourself on the pillows so you could watch him, and his eyes did not stray from yours as he lowered his mouth, his tongue out, that first lick from bottom to top having him moaning and closing his eyes. He circled your clit once with his tongue, wrapping his lips around it to suck on it while holding your legs wide open. He let it go with a pop and looked at you.

“Grab my hair, Daisy,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

You did as he demanded, your fingers entangling again in his soft hair, pulling him towards you. On a particular flick on your clit that left you breathless you tugged on his strands and he moaned, so you did it again, the vibration against your bundle of nerves increasing the pleasurable sensation that had been building up until you couldn’t stop your hips from moving, chasing the high that you were about to fall from. And just as you were about to reach that delicious edge, he stopped.

“Jimin,” you whined and pulled his hair so he would keep licking you, but he shook his head.

“I wanna feel you come when I’m inside you,” he stated, kissing up your body until he reached your lips and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Let me…” he started, moving away from you, looking around, but you just reached your hand to the side, pointing to the drawer, understanding what he wanted. His eyes tightened into the tiny crescent moons you adored, his hooded gaze of hunger for you turning you on.

He reached into the furniture and grabbed the bottle of lube and the strip of condoms. He opened the foil packet, rolling the condom on his erection and squeezing the lubricant onto it, lathering himself up. You barely had time to appreciate it for itself; it was average in length, the pink of his bulbous head matching the color of his tongue and swollen-from-kisses lips, and you were certain that you were going to feel the girth tomorrow, already anticipating the heavenly stretch that was about to come.

No words were necessary at the moment. Your bodies joined perfectly as if you were long time lovers, no more awkward touches between the two of you. He moved his hips slowly at first, letting you feel the drag of his thickness on your walls and giving you time to adjust to it, not wanting to hurt you. When you were all but clawing at his back he quickened his hips, rolling them just right to have you clenching the pillows under your head, pleasure overtaking your body. The cadence and way in which he moved his hips showed the dancer in him - you had yet to see him dance, maybe you could convince him to do it naked just for you. You could feel the overwhelming sensation building up again, chasing that high that was approaching quickly yet not fast enough.

And it was as if Jimin knew exactly what you needed, canting his hips up at the same time he pressed on your clit, snapping that coiled band forming inside you. He swallowed your moans with a kiss, moaning into it himself, feeling you tighten around him as he wanted. It did not take long for his hips to falter and you tug on his hair and pull him to an open-mouthed kiss as he came, sweaty lithe yet muscular body shining under the bedroom light with the effort.

“So how was that for dessert?” You asked and he chuckled, his lips pressing against yours, still out of breath.

And so your dates continued, alternating between your place and cozy restaurants, never seeing his place. You had an inkling of why he had been avoiding it, but you decided not to press the issue for the time being, wanting to enjoy him and his company as it came, not wanting to complicate things and push him away if he was not ready for that yet. He was slowly opening up, mentioning his family more, making it clear to you that his last name, still a mystery to you, was linked with affluent and influential people, and you did not want to break the bubble you two were inhabiting. Not yet.

That evening, he had taken you to a small family-owned dumpling restaurant. It was the best one you had ever been to, but what certainly contributed to your high opinion of the place was Jimin. He had been looking so good in the navy blazer and tight black pants, his intense eyes staring into yours throughout the meal that all you were thinking about was rushing home and getting him out of that and under you, above you, whichever way it happened. You learned to read his body and you knew he had been thinking about the same thing, his eyes darknening and his tongue peaking out to softly lick his lips and tease you. Thankfully, the restaurant was not far from your apartment, and once you were inside, he pushed you against the wall, molding his body onto yours, his muscular thigh coming in between your thighs, pressing against your center. You moaned at the feeling and started to slightly move your hips back and forth, letting your weight drop so you could feel his thigh even more. You felt him grabbing your hair and tilting your head to the side so he could kiss your neck, biting it, soothing the sting with his soft tongue. You could barely hear him, his words so low into your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

“You wanna ride me?”

You nodded your head, your mouth opening into a moan. “Yes, please… Jimin...”

“Shh, I’ve got you, Y/n,” he whispered, his lips sucking your earlobe making your legs falter. “Remember your safeword. Use it if you need it.”

He quickly looked around your apartment, pulling you towards your couch and sitting down on it. He tugged on your hands to make you sit on his lap, his legs slightly spread, and the moment you lowered your hips, your center came into contact with his erection. You moaned, pressing down, needing to feel more of him against you. Jimin adjusted himself lower on the sofa and his hands grabbed your hips, forcing them to move back and forth on him, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You closed your eyes, his look paired with the feeling between your legs proving to be too intense for you to sustain his gaze. You could feel him, big and heavy pressed against you deliciously, and you canted your hips up an inch and then he was pressing just right, enhancing your pleasure. Your arms went around his shoulders and you hid your face on his neck, your hips moving slightly faster with the aid of his hands, small whines coming out of your mouth.

“You’re so hot like this, so needy for me,” he tugged on your hair while he said this, “look at me. I wanna see your face, come on, come for me.”

You pressed down harder, your legs trembling when pleasure overtook your body, the tingling spreading from the depths of your belly to the tips of your toes and fingers, and he urged you on, not letting you stop until you the small aftershocks were hitting you and you mumbled that it was too much. He kissed you, his tongue caressing yours as you slowly stepped up from his lap and kneeled between his opened legs, hands reaching to take his pants off. You almost blushed when you saw the wet stains on the front and he smirked. Jimin raised his hips, helping you, his erection finally freed from its confines as you tugged his pants down.

There was a soft stain on the front of his underwear too from where you had humped him, showing how wet you truly were. You mouthed his cock through the fabric, your nose touching the skin above it, inhaling his sweet scent, and it turned you on even more to feel how he’d been preparing for you, how he knew pretty well by this point how much you liked to smell the soft skin starting on his neck, kissing him in trails until his scent inebriated you. You followed the outline of his erection until you reached the bulbous head, snapping down the fabric so you could engulf it with your lips. He moaned and bit his full lips, one of his hands pushing your hair back from your face. You licked the wetness from the small slit, your tongue circling its head while you pulled down the underwear just enough so you could have access to his entire erection and balls. You let some spit dribble out, using your hand to stroke him up and down a couple of times before sucking him into your mouth, slowly moving and fitting more of him.

You felt his breath falter for a second before he inhaled deeply, soft high-pitched moans starting to leave his lips, almost as if he was trying to hide them from you for now but was not able to, the intensity of your touch too much for him to be quiet and not to react. You took deep breaths through your nose as you did it preparing to take his full length inside your mouth, pausing when your nose touched his skin, feeling him at the back of your throat, while you felt his left hand following the trace of your face lightly, caressing your cheek, and moaning very low ‘yes, just like this, please’. You choked once, twice, and then backed up, showing him the tears gathering on your eyes and the string of spit not breaking the connection between you and his member, knowing he liked seeing you getting messy like this - and this evening you had gone light on your makeup, thinking you should have used some more mascara to have it running down your cheeks so he could praise you and look more ruined, but alas, he praised you anyways, those words soft and warm coming from his lips as he pressed your head down again. You wiggled your tongue to lick at his base while going down, his hands tightening on your hair, his balls starting to draw up from the pleasure and you used your hands to give them some attention, caressing them softly as you tasted him.

“If you keep this up I’m not gonna last,” he let out in between moans.

You nodded; it was exactly what you wanted, because as much as he loved seeing you being wrecked, you loved watching him fall apart under your ministrations, knowing you were the one making him lose control and feel this good. You intensified your movements and sucked harder, tightening your mouth around him, getting him deeper into your mouth each time until your lips were pressed directly on his skin, the trimmed hairs tickling you.

“Let me take care of you, Chim,” you said as you let him go with a pop, your voice hoarse. You pressed your mouth on him again, this time more sloppy as you got him closer to the edge, loud slurping sounds coming from you as you focused entirely on his pleasure. You felt his balls tightening under your hands, and you increased the suction, going down fast and choking on him, constricting your throat. His voice was beautiful moaning out your name into the room, thick spurts hitting the back of your throat as you swallow. You let him go, licking him clean, out of breath and throat feeling rough. You could barely catch your breath before he was pulling you up onto his lap again, kissing you deeply and hugging you tight against his chest.

“How about we clean up and I make you some tea?” You heard him speaking, his tone low, not wanting to break too much of the daze. He looked into your eyes, smiling upon seeing you still hazy from giving him pleasure. “I…” he paused, shaking his head as if to let go of a thought and change what he was about to confess, “now let me take care of you.”

You tried to be discreet around the hospital, avoiding prying eyes and gossiping mouths the most you could, but your loving looks and soft passing touches struck the attention of one particular set of eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Park Jimin, as the heir of his family’s conglomerate and the future chairman of the hospital, was expected to marry well and into another affluent family. More specifically, conversations were being held to reach an agreement for him to marry the beautiful heir of the Choi family, Hyuna. She was his age, went to all the same schools and frequented the same places Park Jimin did. That is, until she could not find him anymore in their usual favorite restaurants and clubs and found out he had been spending almost his entire time at the hospital.

For two people who were supposed to be getting to know each other better to make the engagement official in a few months, she surely missed him. So she took it upon herself to go to the hospital, his future hospital, and find him. It did not take her long to ask around to find he was in the cafeteria - why he would be there completely went over her mind, because he could not be actually eating there, could he?

Not only he could, but he was eating accompanied by someone. It must have been just any nurse, all part of his plan on getting to know the people at the hospital - for what reason she could not fathom, after all, he was going to basically own the place, there were other people who should care for the people. He needed to focus on the business, put his heart into it or else he would get too soft, even softer than he already was for someone who was supposed to inherit the entire conglomerate.

So she let it slide. Until she saw him again with her. And again. And once more that same week, the same month. The pattern became too obvious to her, and it was a sure explanation on why he had been avoiding her texts and invitations for dinners and parties they had an obligation to attend.

So a plan started forming into her mind. She had to get that girl out of the equation, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done that before - albeit it didn’t work exactly in her favor as she planned when she was much younger and had her eyes on Kim Namjoon. And now Choi Hyuna got what she wanted when she wanted. Nobody, certainly not a no-name little nurse would come in between Jimin and her, not after all the planning and work she did to convince both of their families they would be the perfect match.

You were doing your rounds, visiting the patients on the floor that were under your care, going into one room after the other, checking the monitors and their stats, and comforting the family members that were anxiously waiting for updates. So you entered the room absentmindedly, and abruptly halted, surprised upon seeing who was sitting beside your patient’s son, Jeon Jungkook was his name, if you were not mistaken. Ms. Jeon was one of the most recent patients that fell in your route, and when you saw the familiar blonde man that made your heart flutter every time you even thought of his name you had to pause to collect yourself momentarily.

“Oh, hi,” you stopped, chart in hand, looking at Jimin, a little confused.

“Hello, nurse Y/l/n.” Jimin answered, trying to hide his smile.

“You two know each other?” Jungkook asked, pretending not to know, watching your reactions.

“Yes, uh, we’ve seen each other around the hospital,” you were quick to answer. “he’s been making his rounds as a business student, right?”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods his head. “Right, Jimin is finishing his business grad.”

“I told you, I’ve been getting to know people here. But don’t let us disturb your work. Go ahead.” Jimin gestured with his hands, sitting down to give you space.

You felt shy under his intense gaze, as this was the first time he was watching you work, but you shook your head and focused on the task at hand.

“I think she is mom’s favorite,” Jungkook commented to Jimin, looking carefully at both of you. “Not all the nurses talk to their patients like that.”

“It’s always good to talk to them, explain what you’re doing and what’s going on, even if they can’t respond to it,” you explained, going over the numbers on the monitor. “Alright, Ms. Jeon, everything looks good today. Did your son tell you he has someone with him today?” You lower your body so you can whisper in her ear in a way that they can’t hear, “His companion is quite handsome. I like him a lot. That’s our secret, okay?”

You did not notice, but Jimin was looking at you with such fondness in his eyes that alerted Jungkook, who mouthed a “we need to talk” to him.

“Mr. Jeon,” you said, with a normal tone in your voice, trying not to look at Jimin, telling yourself mentally to be professional. “Your mother seems to be recovering quite well, and from what the doctors have been discussing it seems she might be ready to wake up soon. Good day, excuse me.” You said, leaving the room.

As soon as you stepped out and closed the door, Jungkook looked at Jimin with seriousness stamped across his face.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Jungkook asked.

“What do you mean, Jungkook?” Jimin seemed confused at the question.

“Does she even know who you are? Who you truly are?”

“Not yet.”

“You have to tell her. If you love her you have to tell her the truth. You can’t keep lying.”

“Okay, wait a minute. One, I’m not lying per se. I’m just… omitting some information that could be bad for us. And two, I don’t love her. We’re not there yet. I don’t think so. I… I don’t know.” Jimin sighed, letting his head drop into his hands, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you talk about her. You can’t just choose and say that you don't love her, that’s now how it works. You just fall in love.” Jungkook said, his eyes shining. “And that’s why you need to tell her you’re Park Jimin. The Park Jimin. It will only get worse if you wait more.”

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” he confessed, shaking his head with his eyes cast down. “I’m scared she’ll run away after learning the truth.”

“The longer you wait the worse it will be, hyung. Does she even have any idea how much money your family has?”

“Not really… I was thinking about inviting her to your birthday as my plus one, could I?”

“You’re not thinking about telling her the truth at the party, are you? Hyung, no! I mean, you can invite her but please tell her before that. She needs to know at least what to expect.”

“I… I’ll see. I’ll invite her and see what I’m going to say…”

“She seems good. And she seems good for you, too. Don’t fuck this up, Mr. Park.”

“I’ll try not to. I like her, Jungkook. I like her a lot,” Jimin sighed again, confessing, “Help me not fuck this up, please.”

Now, you see, Choi Hyuna did not believe herself to be lying about this particular information. She had been introducing herself as Mr. Park’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law, and whenever she got the question of “Oh, Mr. Park Jimin’s girlfriend?”, she corrected them to fiancee (well, soon enough anyways).

Using this, it was easy to learn what she needed about you. It took her a few weeks to gather all the information so as not to arouse too much suspicion, talking to different people around the hospital, to the point in which she had access to your hand-signed charts. Hyuna was particularly proud of her handwriting and signature forging skills, which only helped solidify the plan in her head.

She just needed some copies to show Jimin at the right moment. Until then, she could wait, getting to know her acquaintance at the hospital a little better so he would help her with exactly what she needed to get Y/n away from her man.

He brought up the subject of Jungkook’s birthday party when you were both lying down, sweaty bodies snuggled close, your head resting on his chest, still trying to catch your breaths after the intense and vigorous activities of the night, your body still high strung sensitive from the three orgasms in a short time and sequence, Jimin always trying to do more than the previous times to completely wreck you.

“It’s nothing fancy, just a get together to celebrate his birthday.”

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to go with you. Where is it going to be?”

“At the yacht,” he says nonchalantly.

“Yacht?” You got up onto your elbows, looking at him with disbelief stamped across your face. “Jimin, that’s not nothing fancy, that is probably one of the definitions of fancy if you look it up in the dictionary.” You shook your head, a chuckle almost in a mocking tone coming from your mouth. “I know we are not in the same financial range, but… what should I expect? I’ve tried not to pressure you to talk about your family or friends, but I need to know what I’m getting into. Because if I’m there, I’m going to meet them, aren’t I?”

He nodded in response, affirmatively.

“So I need to know some. I know the topic is uncomfortable and we don’t need to make it an issue, but I’m not going in blind.”

He sighed, pulling up your covers seeing the goosebumps starting to cover your skin at the sweat drying, and turned his body to face you.

“My family is… comfortable.” He opened his eyes wide in surprise at your laugh.

“Jimin, I am comfortable. It’s a small apartment but I earn enough to rent it, get groceries, and have some fun… Are you scared?” He nodded. “Of what? My reaction?” He nodded again in answer to your question, and you were rendered speechless.

“Yes and no? I’m afraid our bubble will no longer exist. It has been good. There has been no pressure to attend parties and pretend to enjoy conversations with people I despise with you by my side. I like being Jimin, your Jimin, not my family or money’s Jimin.”

“If you’re scared of what I’m going to think, this is not going to change what I think about you. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, and I lov…” you paused, biting your lip, but decided to continue. “I love who you are, Jimin. You care about me, you care about everyone in that hospital, differently from any other man in a suit that has been around. You are thoughtful, kind, and sensitive. I… I love you, Jimin. Even if I don’t know your last name because it comes attached with pressure and probably an insane amount of money, I still love the person that you’ve shown me.”

For what seemed like an eternity, he just stared at you. In his mind, he was taken back to the conversation with Jungkook, reminding how he said he did not love you, that you were not there yet. But looking at you like this, the soft moonlight sneaking in through the partially open window shutters, what seemed like a glow around your body enhanced by the dimmed reading lamp by the bedside table, your cheeks still flushed with pleasure, your hair in disarray, he realized he would not want to be anywhere nor with anyone else but you. His heart pounded in his chest and it was almost as if he could feel it enlarge upon the realization of what he truly felt for you. He brought you closer to his body, kissing you deeply, leaving you out of breath once more.

“I love you, my Daisy.” He confessed in between small kisses on your cheeks, on your forehead, tip of the nose and eyelids, hugging you tight against him. “I’m scared of losing this, of losing you. But you are right, you need to know. I come from money, a lot of money. And when I say a lot, it’s probably more than what you’re imagining. As in this yacht party is nothing, one yacht is nothing really financially speaking, for both my family and my friends’.”

You nod, understanding some; he was sure, you could probably not imagine, but all you cared about was that this would not change what you had and how you felt for each other. You felt warm in his embrace, both body and heart.

“So… Now that I know, can I finally see your place? I’m pretty sure my neighbors are about to start a petition to evict me for all the noises at night…”

He chuckled, lighthearted and feeling free from some of the things that he had been hiding. There were still some details that he chose to omit, but he did not think they were so relevant at the moment. The way your bodies moved with the laughter started to have an effect on him and that he was not able to hide from you.

“How about we give them a true reason to complain?” He asked, pressing his hips against yours, and your laughter died with a moan.

You could barely wait until your shift was over to get home and relax before getting yourself ready for Jungkook’s party. You had come to know him a bit from the time he spent in his mother’s room at the hospital, especially after you found out he was a friend of Jimin’s. But now you were finally going to meet Jimin’s other friends, the ones he mentioned only by name, get to know more about his life and who he was when he was not with you and at the hospital.

You were nervous, knowing the party was in a yacht, and deep down you were scared that the people around him would judge you and him for being with you. He had told you not to worry, that he would be by your side the entire time, and that he was proud to be dating you. You only had to get to the yacht and meet him, and then everything would be alright with him by your side.

“What are you doing?” Your colleague asked upon seeing you looking at Jimin. She had sat down by your table at the cafeteria and you quickly made eye contact with Jimin, trying to signal to him before he came by your table, as you were still keeping your relationship under wraps at the hospital.

“What? Nothing. Just eating my lunch.” You shifted your gaze to your food, avoiding looking in his direction again.

“Girl, get out of your mind. He’s hot, but he is way out of your league. Don’t even dream about it,” she laughed, as if the idea was absurd. “You do know who he is, don’t you?”

You shook your head, pretending not to know, as if you were just admiring him from afar with a crush.

“That’s Park Jimin. From the Parks, you know, owners of the King’s Conglomerate and owners of this fucking hospital.”

To say shock came across your face would not have been enough. Park Jimin?

“You mean as in Mr. Park, the chairman Mr. Park?” You felt a tremor run through your body, a foreign feeling taking over as you learned the entire truth. So that was what he had been hiding from you.

“Yeah, that is his son. He’s been going around the hospital, shadowing his dad and looking at how everything works. I’m pretty sure he might take over soon, the man is surely getting old.”

“I… I had no idea.” You raised your head to look at him, but he was nowhere to be found.

This would not change things. You understood why he had omitted this information, and you had to admit to yourself that although this had the potential to change your relationship, you would fight to not let it happen. Everything had been working out fine. Everything would work out fine.

Jimin was anxious. The party had started, people mingling, drinking, not so subtle glances as the night started to progress. Daisy was about to arrive and he could not wait until he introduced her to the other guys. He kept looking at his phone and around the entrance, her text saying she was waiting for the transportation to the yacht still open. When he looked around again, he was met with Choi Hyuna, smiling and waving discreetly before approaching him. He sighed, thinking that he had been stalling for too long, he needed to tell her about Daisy and end the arrangement, no matter what his parents thought.

“Hi, Jimin,” she said with a wide smile still on her lips, hand clutching her purse tightly.

He nodded with a polite smile, and averted his gaze to search for Daisy again, and Hyuna could not help but notice the motion.

“Expecting someone?” She asked, a soft voice pretending confusion.

“Ah, yes… you’re probably going to meet her tonight, and you and I will have to discuss some things regarding our parents’ wishes.” He began, looking at Hyuna, but missing the way she tightened her fingers around her bag.

“Is everything okay? Who am I going to meet, Jimin? It’s not that nurse you've been seen around the hospital with, is it?” Her voice expressed her surprise and discontent, not being able to hide everything from him.

It was Jimin’s turn to be shocked; he thought he had been careful enough, avoiding people’s eyes, but he should have figured they were not as discreet as he thought. Well, he was one to strike other people’s attention, being who he was, so of course someone had seen him with Daisy.

“That’s her, her name is Y/n.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to break the news to you and here of all places, but I found some shady stuff about her, and if she really is coming, I think it’s for the best that you know this now, let’s go somewhere quieter.” Her acting was on point, convincing Jimin to go with her to a room. When they got there, she continued. “I was at the hospital earlier today looking for you, I know how much time you’ve been spending there, when I noticed something and talked to this other nurse who works there. He let me know some things have been missing, Jimin, meds.” She paused and opened her purse, taking some folded pieces of paper and handing it to him.

He grabbed them, unfolding, and it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. They were copies of ID logs, schedules, reports on missing meds on carts. He was confused, your signature on some of the documents were not out of place, but he had to gather his strength not to crumple the papers when Hyuna continued.

“Look at the reports and her schedule. It’s too much of a coincidence that those meds suddenly disappeared just when she had her shift on that floor, is it not? And she even dared sign some of those herself! I’m sorry, but she must not be that smart, huh? That’s a crime, Jimin, and you as the future chairman of the hospital need to do something about it. Her colleague will probably make a formal complaint soon enough, he said he would try to talk to her, maybe she has an addiction no one knows about and can get her help…”

Jimin closed his eyes, his heart shattering into innumerous pieces inside his chest. He started shaking with heavy breaths, as pulling air into his lungs seemed like a herculean task. He let the papers fall onto the floor, not caring about them, clutching his hand to his chest, trying to dig into his skin to cradle his fragile heart.

“She must have known she could get more access and get away with it being with you for who you are.” Hyuna’s voice was muffled in his ears, and he signaled for her to leave him alone, not sure if words came out of his mouth, but he heard the door closing.

He didn’t know how long he was there, at some point he dropped to his knees, hands on the floor and hair in disarray; his entire body shaking as if he was cold, a foreign sensation dominating his body. He could have sworn he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket a handful of times, but he didn’t have the strength to look at it.

He heard his name being called, a familiar voice entering the room and closing the door, and he had to clench his teeth to gather whatever energy he had in him to deal with the situation. To deal with you and your betrayal.

You entered the room and saw him on his knees, closing the door quickly to get to him, worried about his state. Someone had let you know where he was, and you went straight into the room.

“How long have you known who I am?” It was the first thing he asked, not looking at you, when you lowered your body in front of him.

“What? I know you’re Jimin, just Jimin, remember? You told me that, but someone told me at the hospital today and I was going to talk to you about it soon but...”

“Today? How can you lie to me after I told you I loved you?” He shook his head, disbelief in his voice.

“I only knew what you told me, another nurse saw me looking at you at the cafeteria, remember the woman who was with me during lunch?”

“What are you on right now?” He finally looked at you, his eyes squinting with anger.

“What are you talking about? Jimin…” You were confused, as if you were having two different conversations.

“Or maybe you’re not on anything, you just sell it, is that it?” He got up slowly, grabbing your arm and taking you with him in the process, making you get up as well.

“I’m confused…” You tried to talk, but he interrupted you abruptly, letting your arm go as if your skin was burning his.

“When did you decide to use me and my family to get away with your problems?”

“I…”

“You know what, I don’t want to know. You broke my heart and my trust with this, I never should have trusted someone whose money…”

“Whose money what, Jimin? You told me it didn’t matter. I certainly don’t care nor want your or your family money. What did I do? I don’t understand!” You exclaimed, frustrated, confused, tears starting to fall from your eyes, his words piercing you.

He silently grabbed the scattered papers from the floor, thrusting them into your hands with force, and you looked at them. How did he have a copy of your schedule? And those signatures, they looked similar, but you did not remember touching any of those documents before. And the missing meds reports… and it suddenly started to dawn on you, but what he said next still shocked you to your core.

“Don’t you dream about stepping foot into the hospital again. If you dare show up next shift, I’ll have you arrested and sued for so much money your little mind can’t even begin to wrap around it,” he spit out, venom in his words, so different from the kind man you knew. “Now get out of here. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You stood there without any reaction, the impact of his words freezing your body into place while you tried to fully understand the situation. You had nothing to do with those papers, but when you opened your mouth to attempt an explanation, he interrupted you again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have someone drop whatever you have in your locker. Tell me, will we find shit there too? Or are you too smart to risk it? And how the fuck did you hide this from me?”

“Jimin, I…” you started, shaking your head, but he didn’t let you continue. He opened the door abruptly, turned his back on you and walked towards a security guard, pointing to you inside the room.

You let your tears fall free as you ran towards the same corner from which you entered the yacht, ready to leave, still confused as to who would do this to you. But it didn’t matter, did it? Jimin chose his side, and it was certainly not yours.

As you were getting ready to exit the boat, you were leaving him behind. You were leaving your hope. You were leaving your job. You were leaving your sweet memories with him on the water. You were leaving all the past months, buried in a pile of lies and you had no idea how far they went, how far someone was going to get you away from Jimin. You were leaving your heart, destroyed, stepped on, bleeding, in that room alongside those papers.

And somewhere on that yacht the love of your life was seeking that someone, also leaving behind memories of you.

“Hyuna,” Jimin started, looking at the woman when he finally found her again. He took a deep breath, resigning himself to accept his family plans for him. “We should announce our engagement soon.”

--

taglist: @veronawrites @oftenderweapons-a-companion

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it ♥

#bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagine #btscreatorscorner #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #jimin #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin angst #bts fic #my works

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Fist Fights and Hickeys

Prompt: Enemies to lovers smut with the teeniest bit of plot. Literally this is just pure filth. Please don’t read if you’re a minor, seriously this is not for you.

Warnings: SMUT! Swearing, Female reader, oral (female receiving),unprotected sex (I don’t have a fun rhyme explaining why that's a bad idea, just use fucking protection! dear lord, this is wizard shit im sure they have magic birth control but we aren't getting into that rn) also reader punches someone early on so violence, fluff and funny stuff at the end.

You walked down the hall as quickly as you could, just wanting the day to be over. It seems like no matter what you did today, everything went wrong. In herbology you dropped and broke a potted plant. In potions, your mixture exploded, coating you and your partner in blue sludge, which was still in your hair, and in divination, your tea leaves literally showed you an omen of death. At this point, you didn’t know how else this day could get worse.

“Hello Y/N” Fred Weasley said, sauntering up to your side. Welp, it just had to go and get worse.

“Leave me alone Fred” You said, irritation clearly present in your voice. You and Fred had a bit of a rivalry, whether it was at quidditch, or in your classes, or with pranks, the two of you were always trying to one up each other, which through the years, has created a bit of a love hate friendship.

“Somebody’s cranky” Fred joked, continuing to walk beside you.

“Somebody needs to shut the fuck up” You responded. Fred was about to reply, but before he could, someone interrupted him.

“Well well well, look what we have here! What happened Y/N, trying to go for a new look” Ethan Hawthorn said, pointing out your hair, which was still blue.

You didn’t answer, you just kept walking, Fred giving you a confused look. Ethan hawthorn was a Slytherin who you had a class with last year. The professor had asked a question, which he answered incorrectly, and when you corrected him in front of everyone, he deemed it appropriate to treat you like you had personally humiliated him in front of the whole school. He basically made it his life purpose to make your life difficult.

“Aw come on Y/N, don’t be like that, it’s nice! It distracts from your face!” He continued, him and a few of his friends now following you and laughing. Upon hearing what he said, Fred went to turn and confront him but you grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Oh is your boyfriend trying to save you? You probably hired him to be around you, god knows he needs the money” Ethan said.

Next thing you knew, you had whipped around and punched Ethan in the face. It was a bit of a surprise to everyone, including yourself seeing you wouldn’t really consider yourself a violent person. Before you could think about anything else though, you and Fred were sprinting down the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room, Ethan screaming profanities from behind you.

You sprinted to the entrance of the common room, quickly saying the password and running inside, relieved to find it empty. After running for your lives, you and Fred were pretty tired out, both of you walking over to one of the couches and falling onto it, trying to catch your breath.

“You know he’s going to try and kill you right?” Fred asked, turning his head to look at you.

“Worth it” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit, before you noticed the pain radiating from your hand. You sat up a bit and examined your knuckles, which were now bleeding a bit. Fred noticed and sat up as well, before gently taking your hand in both of his, looking at the irritated skin.

“You ok?” He asked, skill looking at your hands, which you were thankful for since it made it so he couldn’t see the blush forming on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine” You replied. Trying not to focus on his long fingers gently brushing over the bones in your hand.

“You’re hands are so small” Fred laughed, breaking you out of your slightly flustered trance.

“These small hands can still slap the shit out of you” You replied, taking your hand back and laughing. 

“Here I think I have something upstairs that can help with the pain” Fred said standing, you following his actions and making your way up the stairs to the boys dormitory, walking inside to once again find it was empty.

You walked over and took a seat on his bed, Fred quickly fumbling through a drawer before coming to sit next to you, a roll of gauze in his hand. He sat across from you and gently took your hand again, carefully wrapping the cloth around your knuckles a few times before tearing  off the excess and securing it in place.

“Thank you” You said holding up your hand and examining his work, only to look over and see Fred staring at you, a bit of a frown on his face. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that guy” Fred said, the atmosphere in the room changing a bit.

“Fred its fine” You said, trying to change the subject.

“No its not Y/N! That dickhead is insulting you constantly, and for what? You don’t deserve to be treated like that” Fred said, standing and starting to pace around the room.

“You’re taking this way to seriously” You said, starting to get annoyed with his attitude. It wasn’t like you and Fred were super close. Hell most of the time you were at each others throat about whos better at what, and when you weren't doing that you were either annoying each other, or on a rare occasion, actually having a civil conversation.

 “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough!” Fred continued, still pacing back and forward.

“Why do you care so much!?” you shouted.

“Because I fucking love you!” Fred shouted back, stopping in his tracks to face you.

“What?” You asked, not quite believing what you just heard.

“I love you ok? I love the way you make everyone around you smile, and that you’re absolutely hilarious, and that you’re competitive. I love the sound of your laugh, and the way your eyes light up when you smile, and even when you’re being a complete pain in the ass you still-” Fred rambled on, only stopping when you cut interrupted him.

“Fred!” you said sternly, grabbing his attention.

“What?” He asked loudly, breathing heavily from his rant.

“Would you just shut the fuck up and kiss me already?” You asked. That was all Fred needed to hear, crossing the room in one swift motion and closing the space between you, leaning down to roughly push his lips against yours.

Your hands instantly went to his hair pulling him even closer, while his went to the back of your thighs, picking you up and walking you over to the bed, letting you fall back onto the mattress before quickly re connecting his mouth to your neck, biting the flesh there before soothing over it with his tongue.

You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them down his chest before landing at the hem of his shirt, pushing it upwards. Fred got the message and pulled away, making quick work of removing his shirt, before his mouth was back on yours, sucking on your bottom lip before his tongue met yours, swirling around in a fight for dominance.

His hands moved upwards, slipping under your shirt to roughly grab your breast, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your hands found their way to his waist, quickly working on undoing his belt. You had almost gotten it unfastened when Fred suddenly pulled away, looking down at you.

“Are you sure?” Fred asked, searching your face for any sign of rejection.

“I have literally never wanted to fuck someone more in my whole life, yes I’m one hundred percent sure” You replied

Fred didn’t waste any more time, quickly working on removing his shoes and pants, while you worked on removing your shirt and leggings, your skirt following soon after leaving you in only your bra and panties, while Fred stood in front of you, his eyes raking up and down your body, you started to feel a bit self conscious with his eyes on you, but before you could move to cover up a bit, his lips were back on yours, pushing you back onto the bed.

His lips started to move downwards, moving from your neck, to your collarbone, trailing wet in between your breasts and down your stomach before finally settling between your legs, looking up ay you before kissing down your inner thigh, deliberately not going near where you needed him most.

“Fred, please” You whined, trying to find some relief.

“Please what?” Fred asked, playing with the waistband of your panties.

“Please do anything just stop teasing- Oh fuck!” You cried, Fred moving your panties to the side and slipping two of his long fingers into you, making your back arch.

“Already so wet for me” He chuckled, pumping his fingers faster. “If you don’t like me teasing then why are you moaning”

You didn’t get the change to reply before Fred's mouth was suddenly on your core, licking a long stripe between your fold before swirling his tongue around your clit, making your head fly back and your hands grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to push you over the edge, but just as you were about to come undone, Fred pulled away, removing his fingers and making you groan at the loss of contact.

“What the fuck Fred?!” You cried, frustrated for being denied your release. Meanwhile Fred was crawling his way back up your body, letting out a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry babe, I’m going to take care of you. But when you cum I want it to be around my cock” Fred almost growled, causing a chill to run up your spine before he reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room, your panties and his boxers following soon after.

Fred propped on of his arms next to his head, helping to keep his weight off you while his other hand moved to his cock, slipping it between your fold a few times, looking at you for permission, which you gave with a nod, before finally pushing his length into you.

“Please move” You practically begged, Fred waiting to make sure you had adjusted before doing anything.

“As you wish” He teased, a smirk on his face, before he slowly started moving, pulling out half way before thrusting back into you.

You were just about to ask him to go faster, when he was suddenly ramming into you, his head moving to the crook of your neck, sucking on the flesh there, while your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer and creating long red trails as your fingernails desperately tried to find something to hold onto.

You bit your lip, trying to contain your moans, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” Fred said, sucking behind your ear, making your head spin.

“Someone could walk in” You said back, trying to come up with an excuse. In reality, you knew most of the other students were in class so you didn’t have much to worry about.

 “I really don’t care. You look so fucking hot writhing under me and I’m going fuck you senseless right now.” He rasped out, moving his free arm under your knee to hike your leg up higher, the new angle making you gasp, allowing him hit your G-spot perfectly each time. 

“Oh fuck, Fred- I’m gonna-!” You cried out, no longer in control of the pornographic sounds leaving your mouth.

“Cum for me, beautiful” Fred murmured into your ear, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, finally pushing you over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping and flooding your body with pleasure.

Fred continued to thrust into you, helping you ride out your high before coming undone himself, resting his head on your shoulder as he came down from his high, slowing his movements before stopping completely, gently pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you, both of you staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

“That was...wow” You started, still to blissed out to think of the right words.

“Yeah... why didn’t we do this earlier?” Fred asked, causing the both of you to laugh, finally catching your breath and sitting in a comfortable silence.

“I love you too” You said, breaking the silence and making Fred look over at you.

“Really?” He asked teasingly, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Yeah, ever since you hugged me when we won that quidditch tournament last year, I knew I had feeling for you.”

“I knew when you made frogs come out of Snape's pockets for a week” Fred replied, causing you both to fall into another fit of laughter.

“Wow, so romantic” You teased, Fred moving to wrap his arm around you as you scooched closer into his chest, both of you moving under the covers.

“I know, its a gift” Fred replied, making you giggle. 

“Well, I should maybe get going” You said, moving to get up, knowing classes would be ending soon.

“You thought we were done?” Fred asked, stopping you in your tracks.

“We’re not?” You asked, a confused look on your face.

“Not even close” Fred replied, leaning in and connecting your lips again, to which you enthusiastically responded, before quickly pulling away, grabbing your wand and casting a locking and silencing spell on the door.

Needless to say, while you may have had a bad streak during your classes, you most definitely got lucky that night.

The next day you had to get up early for quidditch practice. You had suck out of Fred's room a few hours later without too much suspicion, but needless to say, you were sore. You walked to practice with your roommate Angelina, who was currently talking about something to do with McGonigal's hat, but you honestly weren’t paying much attention, too distracted by last night events playing over in your head.

“But I think she might be hiding something in it you know? Like... hold up. Is that a fucking hickey?” Angelina asked once you finally got to the bleachers, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What?! No!” You quickly defended, trying to move the collar of your shirt up, only for Angelina to slap your hand away, pulling your collar further down, exposing the dozens of marks that littered your neck and chest, which you didn’t realize you had this morning.

“Oh my GOD! Did you get beat up? Who’s the guy?” Angelina asked with a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You replied, trying to keep your cool, digging through your bag to find your water bottle.

You stood back up, looking over to see Fred and George walking your direction. You gave them both a wave, your eyes lingering on Fred for a few seconds longer than usual. They dropped their stuff off a bit always from you, and started getting changed, both of them coming in sweaters.

“Besides” You continued, turning away from the twins, trying to keep your cool. “You have no right to talk, I know you and George are getting pretty comfortable in the room of requirement” You said, taking a sip of your water.

“That’s totally different and- Oh my god?!” Angelina said, looking past you, causing you to turn and spit out your water, the sight before you making you choke on the liquid.

Fred had taken off his shirt to change into his Jersey, and his back was covered in bright pink scratch marks. He heard the commotion, turning to see you covering your mouth trying to stop choking, not sure whether to be horrified or laugh.

“Jesus Fred, did you piss off a hippogriff and not tell me about it?” George asked, Fred suddenly realizing that of course, you would have most definitely left marks. Not that he was completely innocent either.

“Oh that, yeah I fell out of a..... tree” Fred said, making you smack your palm to your face. Sure, he may have been the best prankster in the school, but damn was Fred a bad liar.

Angelina took in your reaction, adding it to Fred's back and your hickeys, finally putting the pieces together.

“You two!?” Angelina said, pointing at the two of you. “Last night when you got back to the dorm late! You were fucking fucking!” 

“Shhhh!” I shushed loudly, making Angelina and George laugh.

“Fred and Y/N, sitting in a tree” George started

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G” Angelina finished, the two laughing and heading off to start practice, leaving you and Fred slightly embarrassed at the blatant teasing.

“Well, we’re never going to hear the end of this” You said, admitting defeat.

“Yeah, but at least now they know. But speaking of  K-I-S-S-I-N-G, you wanna...” Fred asked, moving his head towards the back of the bleachers.

“As fun as that sounds, It’ll have to wait. First I need to beat your ass at quidditch” You said, collecting your gear, looking up to see a gobsmacked Fred looking back at you.

“You are literally my dream girl, how did I get so lucky?” Fred asked, grabbing his things and walking with you to the center of the field.

“I know, I’m pretty much the best thing that's ever happened to you” You said in a serious tone.

“This dicks the best thing that's ever happened to you” 

“FRED!”

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

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed!!!! I didn’t read through this before posting so if theres any grammar mistakes I’m sorry, I literally wrote this at 3 in the morning because who needs sleep when you have Fred Weasley porn. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, feel free to leave any feedback/recs!

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n

[outoftheblue-if]

[this may be a triggering ask, so it's totally okay If you prefer to not answer it!] This last few days I have been feeling really down since my (male) friend spent a night at my house. He used to have a crush on me a couple years ago, and I still think he does. I never felt the same for him and he knows it. Still, he keeps touching me in ways i don't feel comfortable, keeps taking pictures of me I don't ask for/don't give him permission to do so, keeps staring at me even when I notice it and try to make him stop.. and much more. And the worst of It all is that...he knows the things I have been through, the traumas I still have to deal with.. he specially knows who did this to me. I just wanted to scream "CAN YOU PLEASE STOP", but I would just freeze every time, and I could only hold my tears until I was alone.

Despite It all, your blog is making my days so much better, thanks to you and your lovely story and characters. Thank you very much!💙

So, for the question, what would the ROs do seeing something similar happening to the mc?

Oh, honey! I'm so sorry this happened to you! 💔 It sounds like a terrible situation to be in. Makes me so angry on your behalf, I’m fuming!! I know you may just be here to share and vent a little, get your ask answered, which is completely valid, so feel free to skip the next two paragraphs if you don't want my input 🤎

Possible TW - under the cut for length

This does not sound to me like a person you'd want in your life, not to mention invite into your home, which should be a safe space for you. A friend that doesn't respect your boundaries - boundaries that you've explicitly set in the past, is no friend at all, if you ask me. It's perfectly normal to freeze and not be able to say anything, especially with a friend, and especially when you've suffered through trauma before. But as your friend, he should be able to recognise your unwillingness and your being uncomfortable all the same, particularly when he knows your history.

To me this is completely unacceptable behaviour. It’s very understandable that you’re upset. I know it's not that easy to cut someone out of your life though, and I'm aware I don't know enough about your situation to really speak on it, but this type of behaviour makes me so angry and saddened on your behalf. Again, I'm so sorry this happened to you, it's a very difficult situation to deal with. 

I'm happy my blog has been able to make you feel better though, and that you can take comfort from these characters ✨🤎 I've said it before, but I will reiterate - my asks and DMs are always open if any of you need a friend 🤎I won't ramble on any more though, just sending you a virtual hug full of good vibes. You deserve so much better 🤎

On to your question!

So, for the question, what would the ROs do seeing something similar happening to the mc?

I’m not sure if you meant in a relationship, or just crushing stage? I’m going to assume crushing stage.

Isobel: Would be furious, this type of behaviour makes her blood boil. If she saw this, and you were clearly uncomfortable, she would immediately step in. “That’s enough.” If there were other people around, she wouldn’t want to cause a scene, only because she doesn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable. If no one was around, she would rip this person a new one about inappropriate behaviour and not respecting people’s boundaries, before gently escorting you away from them/out of there. She would be raging inside, but would try to push it down for your sake, opting instead to ask you if they’re all right. If you were super upset or crying, Isobel would secretly wish she could go back and throttle the person, but settle for swearing that you never have to encounter that person again, she’ll make sure of it. And you never would. She would be extra hovering and protective for the foreseeable future too, making sure something like this doesn’t happen again.

Max: Max doesn’t really get angry very often, but this would make them quiver with anger on your behalf. They can be surprisingly intimidating when they’re angry, mainly because it’s such a shocking difference from their usual demeanour. They would step in, and angle themselves in front of you to separate you from this person as they serve them a chilly look. “Ah, name, I just heard Lord Ashton asking for you, I think you had better scurry.” A clear warning in their tone. They would then gently escort you away, their eyes softening into a worried frown as they ask you if you’re ok. If you were visibly upset, or cried, it would absolutely break their heart, and they would do anything to make you feel better, their arms itching to pull you into a hug. If they could lovingly squeeze away all your fears and sorrows, they would. 

Clara: Would be absolutely disgusted with this behaviour, feeling vehemently angry on your behalf. She would step in and politely, but firmly tell the person to leave. As much as she wants to tear into them for their behaviour, she wouldn’t in case you didn’t want to. She too would escort you away from there, gently asking you if you’re all right. If you cried, her hear would wrench in her chest, and her eyes would likely well up too. Seeing you upset, upsets her more than anything else. She would wish she could go back and verbally tear that person to shreds, making sure they never approached you again, but she would settle instead on comforting you any way she possibly could. Asking if you wanted to go home, or what you wanted to do. Anything she can do for you, just say the word. She wants nothing more than to bring you home, wrap you up like a burrito in blankets and cuddle away all your hurt. 

Richard: Oh boy, Richard would be furious too. This is absolutely abhorrent behaviour in his eyes, completely inexcusable. He would step in, positioning himself in front of you, and curtly tell this person to make themselves scarce. His eyes would be blazing with fury on your behalf, and he can definitely look pretty imposing when he’s angry. Would then escort you away, and awkwardly ask you if you’re all right. Seeing you upset, or even crying, makes him want to go back and strangle that person. He’s not very good at offering comfort, particularly when he’s not even sure it’s welcomed, seeing as you’re not even in a relationship. Would very awkwardly ask you what he can do, what you need, while secretly wanting nothing more than to wrap you up safe in his arms and never let you go. 

William: William would be absolutely sick with worry and anger seeing you in an uncomfortable position like this, watching on with his stomach churning and his heart burning in his chest. He might hesitate to step in, worried that he’s overstepping, or that he’s reading into it, but eventually he wouldn’t be able to bear it anymore, as you clearly look uncomfortable to him. He would step in, between you and this person, but keep his eyes and focus on you. “Are you all right?” He would ask softly, searching your gaze. “Do you want to leave?” If you nod, he would escort you away from there, desperately wanting to wrap his arms around you and tug you close, protectively. If you were visibly upset or cried, he would be absolutely kicking himself, feeling wretched for not stepping in sooner. “I’m so sorry, MC, I should have stepped in sooner.” Seeing you upset feels like a knife to his heart. “What can I do? Anything you need, anything you want…” Yearns to pull you into his embrace and promise you that no one will make you feel uncomfortable ever again. 

Sending all of you good vibes ✨🤎 

#ask #ootb #ootb:ros #scenarios #reactions #possible trigger warning #isobelclaymoore #maxwinthrope #clarahamilton #richardwinfield #williamtaylor #ugh #i'm so disgusted by this kind of behaviour #i can't say it enough

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 8

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

His brothers would always know whenever he went to see her as he’d always come back with a content smile on his face. Deep down, he wished that Y/N could’ve met Cynthia. They would have made great friends as they were the only 2 people who could make him smile like this. Mammon may not have been able to save Y/N, but he swore that he would protect Cynthia, no matter the cost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 8 - The Great Pancake Debate (2261 words)

It’s been almost 6 months since you arrived in the Celestial Realm. Needless to say, you are quite certain that these last 6 months have been the craziest and stressful months of your life! When you told Simeon and Luke about you staying here, to say they were ecstatic would be an understatement. Luke jumped for joy and wouldn’t stop rambling about all the fun you were going to have. When you told them about God appointing them to help teach you about the Realm, Luke practically did a double take and it took an hour to calm him. Now you have Simeon teaching you about politics and Luke about how to use your wings and powers. On your second day there, Michael woke you up, or well came to get you as you didn’t get any sleep. Turns out, while the Devildom is constant at night, the Celestial realm is constant day and thanks to the floor to ceiling windows, there was no way for you to stop sunlight from coming in. You were introduced to the council at breakfast. Note to self, the brothers breakfasts are QUIET AND PEACEFUL compared to Archangels off duty. The first thing you saw were 2 angels passionately arguing over which pancake topping was the best, strawberries or blueberries. At some point a third angel cut in claiming chocolate chips were the best and all heaven (would you replace hell with heaven here? idk) broke loose. As for me, I just started chuckling in disbelief while making my way over to pick up a pancake of my own when the angel arguing on behalf of the strawberries saw you.

“Hey kid, what topping do you prefer, strawberries, blueberries, or chocolate chips? It’s strawberries right?”

“Actually, I prefer them plain with maple syrup. Although if Satan was the one making it, I’d go for the one with poison berries. Contrary to their name, they’re not actually poisonous and quite sweet.” All the angels present looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, save for Michael who just sat there eating his breakfast hoping to leave soon and get to work.

“Kid, did you say Satan?” The angel arguing on behalf of blueberries asked. “Yeah… Blond hair, teal eyes, Avatar of Wrath, Luci’s son? Ring a bell?” Turning to Michael, blueberry angel asked,

“Micheal, who are they and why are they wearing Lucifer’s old get up?” “This is Y/N. They will be staying here and taking Samael’s spot on the council until their agreement with Father ends and they return to the Devildom. Father has asked us to teach them about how our Realm operates and how to successfully fulfill Samael’s former position flawlessly, unless they want to return now and leave heaven early?” Michael turned towards you with a smirk on his face as he asked the last part.

“Very funny Mike. You and I both know I won’t do that no matter how bad you want me to.”

“What did I say about calling me that?!” Micheal’s smirk turned into something short of a snarl.

“Well, if you won’t take me seriously, neither will I. You want me to call you by your name, earn it and stop being an butt… I meant an butt… Why can’t I swear?!”

“This is the Celestial Realm Y/N. Angels don’t swear.” Michael said smugly over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“God Dang it! Argh! Fudge!. Dang it! Ya know what, forget it, my entire mood is ruined. Thanks Michael!”

“Anytime.”

Shooting Michael one last glare, I sighed and turned to the rest of the baffled angels in the room.

“Yes, what Michael said is true. Stuff happened in the Devildom which I will not get in too-”

“The demon king made Samael kill them.”

“Ok, Mike, first off, he didn’t, I ordered him too, second, I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. What gives you the right to tell them huh?”

“I felt like it.”

“You son of a beach.” I turned back to the rest of the angels. “Not a word about it. Anyway, due to some personal issues, I made a deal with Father to stay here on the condition that I take over Lucifer’s spot on the council until he either kicks me out or until our agreement has ended.”

“If I may, when will this agreement of yours be over?” The blueberry angel asked.

“I will be returning to the Devildom once Lord Diavolo has been crowned king and his father is 100% out of the picture. Now if you don’t mind me asking, could you introduce yourselves?” “Oh how rude of us, I’m sorry, I am Gabriel.” Gabriel had chestnut brown medium length hair, reaching shoulders. His eyes were a dull green. He wore a white turtleneck and had a light green shawl with golden tassels. He pointed to the strawberry angel. “This is Raphael and he’s Uriel.” He pointed to the chocolate chip angel. Raphael had long reddish-orange hair put up in a high ponytail. His eyes were a stormy gray. He wore a simple light gray half sleeve with an off the shoulder white cape and little decor. Uriel had short gray hair and golden eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He wore something that reminded you of an off white scholar's robe with gray accents. “These are Saraqael, and Raguel.” He pointed to 2 of the quieter angels who didn’t participate in “the great pancake debate”. “We make up the Archangel council and we’re happy to have you Y/N.” Gabriel finished off with a smile. You were just barely able to make out a little “Not all of us” from Michael. You decided to ignore it, and then, like all the decisions you’ve ever made, it was the wrong one. Sitting back down you asked,

“So, quick question. What started The Great Pancake Topping debate?”

.

.

.

.

Breakfast ended 2 hours later with upset angels, and pancakes, everywhere…

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

Levi went straight to his room as soon as they got home. As soon as he closed and locked the door he went straight to Henry’s fishbowl, picked it up and sat in his bathtub, hugging the bowl as he cried. ‘Why do I feel like this?! I only like 2D characters and Ruri-chan, not 3D people. How do I miss them?... Why did they leave me? They were my player 2.’ “Well it makes sense, no one would want to stay with a worthless shut in of an otaku like me” he said to the empty room. Henry 2.0 glubbed a bubble in response. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you Henry?” *Glub* “No you wouldn’t… I miss them.” Levi stayed in his tub hugging Henry 2.0 until he fell asleep.

Present

It was another late night, Levi was bingeing a new anime ‘I fell in love with a 3D girl but I’m afraid she’ll leave me after finding out that I’m an otaku who rarely leaves their room’ . He was halfway through the 9th episode when he got a notification from Mononoke Island. One of his raid mates was stuck and needed some help. He paused his marathon to help his fellow mate and stayed up until the early hours of the morning switching between playing Mononoke and watching his anime. Stumbling into the dining room for breakfast the next morning, he was met with complete silence. Lucifer had left early, Belphie was asleep, Beel was too absorbed in eating, Satan in his book and Asmo on his phone to even notice him enter the room. Mammon was busy in the human world helping out sone witches. Levi sat down in his normal spot, taking whatever was left as he mentally prepared himself for the day. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day at RAD, still dressed in his uniform, Levi left as quickly as he could. There was an anime expo happening in the human realm right now and there was some ultra-rare limited edition Ruri-chan merch being sold there. He had gotten Lucifer’s permission to attend the expo so long as he was back by 11. Existing the portal and making his way to the expo, Levi thought about the last expo he attended with Y/N. They cosplayed as Erin and Levi from Attack on Titan and spent the entire day surrounded by fellow anime nerds. They had also booked a room at a nearby hotel. It was 3 days of bonding time for them. Entering the expo, Levi decided he would get something for them as decor for their headstone put in memory of them in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. Nearing the line for Ruri-chan merch, Levi noticed someone staring intensely at him. He decided to ignore them but keep a loose eye on them, just in case. He got to the front of the line and purchased 4 of the Ruri-chan collection kits. One for use, one for display, one to keep and sell in the future, and one for Y/N. He decided to wander around a little more to see if anything else would catch his eye while he was here. He spotted a Black Butler station and remembered the jokes he and Y/N would crack about Barbatos and Sebastian. He passed a Fate/Stay Night stand and remembered their conversations on which heroic class they would belong to. Levi would have been the perfect Lancer. He passed countless other stalls, each of them holding a memory he made with Y/N. Distracted by his trip down memory lane, Levi forgot all about the person stalking him. He went and purchased some dinner from one of the stalls before sitting down and pulling out his DDD and looked at some pictures of Y/N and him at their last expo. He didn’t look up from his phone until he felt someone sit opposite of him. Levi looked up to see some middle aged man just sitting there on his phone. He didn’t have any food, merch, or even look like someone interested in an anime expo. Feeling an uncomfortable aura emitting from this man, Levi got up and left. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t following him. He left the expo and went down an alleyway to open up a portal back to the Devildom when he accidentally bumped into someone dropping his purchases.

“S-sorry”

“That’s quite alright.” The stranger extended a hand out to let him up. “Say, I’d love to know where you got your uniform from. No schools around here have uniforms like that one.”

Looking up, Levi saw the same man that was watching him with a twisted smile. Masking his fear, he mumbled an excuse about being in a rush and tried to dash around him. Before he could get 2 steps down the alley, the man grabbed him and pushed him further into the alleyway. Levi’s head struck the wall hard leaving him dazed for a moment.

“I didn’t think my intel about finding a RAD attendee at the expo would be true but whaddya know? Seems I caught myself a demon.”

Levi, now more aware of his surroundings, realized he was cornered by a demon hunter. Despite being in an alleyway, there were too many people around for him to do anything rash. Without missing a beat, the hunter pulled out an enchanted dagger aiming straight for Leviathan’s heart. Levi rolled and dogged last minute before colliding into someone’s chest. That person in question wrapped his arms around Levi’s chest and put their own dagger to his throat.

“I know you’re there! Come on out and I might spare your friend's life!” The hunter holding Levi yelled. When no one stepped out, the dagger held by Levi’s neck began pushing on his skin. Levi felt a flare of pain and against his better judgement, transformed. His tail wrapped around hunter 2’s leg and flipped him over while the first hunter charged at him, only to be blown to the ground as a powerful gust of wind knocked him over.

“Jeez Levi, you’re lucky I was here. Seriously, why didn’t ya do somethin’ earlier? Maybe then I wouldn’t have ta save yo ass.” Mammon stepped out from the darkness with a bored look on his face.

“Come on, Lucifer’s waiting for ya back home. LOOK OUT!” Levi turned around just in time to see Hunter number 2 taking a swing at his neck and managed to duck just in time. Mammon then charged over punching the hunter square in the face, knocking him out cold.

“T-thanks M-mammon.”

“No problem. Come on, let’s get ya back home before any more of them show up.”

Stepping through the portal, a question plagued Levi’s mind.

“Mammon, how did you know I was in trouble?”

“Some witches summoned me. I overheard them talk about some hunter group getting a tip about a possible demon being at some expo. Then I realized that it was the same one you were going to, so I decided to go there myself to make sure ya weren’t followed. I’m glad I did too.”

“Th-thank you Mammon. Really.”

“Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?”

Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room.

#obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan #satan x reader #obey me satan #asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub x reader #obey me beelzebub #belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me micheal #OMFIC #MAMMON CAN BE A BIG BRO TOO #HE'S NOT ALL TSUNDERE AND I WILL DIE BY THAT #obey me raphael #obey me uriel #obey me gabriel #obey me angel OC's #multi chapter fic #ao3 crosspost