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#it's been a long time since i tagged that
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
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Prologue
Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 
He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.
“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”
A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 
Chapter One
You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.
party at cameron’s tonite !!
It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.
“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.
You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.
There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.
Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 
You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.
You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 
As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.
Four years earlier…
The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.
A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.
“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.
“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”
You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.
“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.
“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.
Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 
You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.
You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.
Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 
“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.
Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 
You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.
“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”
“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.
“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.
“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  
He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.
“Just reach over,” he directed you.
“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”
“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.
Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.
“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.
He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”
The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.
“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.
“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.
“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.
Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.
You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.
“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.
Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.
“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.
Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.
“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.
You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”
It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.
“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”
Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 
“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.
You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 
“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”
A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.
Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”
Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.
“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”
“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.
“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”
Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.
“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”
“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”
“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.
“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 
He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.
You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.
“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”
You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.
“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”
He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.
“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”
“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.
“Good.”
Now…
The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.
You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.
“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.
Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.
The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 
“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”
“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.
There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.
“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 
“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.
“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”
The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.
He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.
Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.
Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.
(chapter 2)
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a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)
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beejunos · 2 days
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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader | PART 2
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Summary: After your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby, will you be able to mend your relationship?
This is PART 2. Part 1 can be found here.
This is the continuation of @lustylita's wonderful idea, which can be found here. I just had the pleasure of writing it. I hope you enjoy the end of our little story!
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, some angst
The relationship between you and Alastor had taken a sharp turn for the worse. What used to be a strained but neutral relationship was now strained, uncomfortable, and awkward at best. You found yourself doing everything in your power to avoid him whenever possible.
Each time you and Alastor coincided in a room, a surge of panic would engulf you. The urgency to escape the impending unbearable awkwardness was so tangible it left a metallic taste in your mouth. You would hastily concoct an excuse, no matter how feeble, to flee the scene. The same sense of panic would grip you if he happened to enter a room you were already in.
As you made your hasty retreat, you made a point to never meet his gaze. You were acutely aware that if you did, you would be confronted with the pained expression on his face behind the mask he liked to present to the world, a sight that would be unbearable. Despite Alastor's adeptness at concealing his emotions, you could now sense his anguish from the shadow he cast.
It was something you never anticipated. You never thought you'd harbour any kind of affection towards the man. Yet, after the end of your relationship with Alastor's Shadow, it felt like going through a tumultuous breakup with him. The pain of it all left you feeling raw, vulnerable, and insecure as if a part of you had been stripped bare of dignity and reason. You were left feeling smaller than you really were, with a heavy weight on your shoulders that dragged you down. As if everything was your fault. 
But you had never known about Alastor's feelings for you. You didn't even know when his affection for you had begun and why he had buried them so deep within his heart that his shadow had to break free to soothe its ache. Only when his shadow broke free did you realise the extent of his emotions and how deep they ran.
The days felt like they had grown longer and lost all their colour without the presence of Alastor's shadow. Hollow and lifeless. Whilst you could argue all you wanted with yourself that it was the shadow that you wanted and not the man, the reality was that the shadow was the man. 
They were not separate. They were one.
To love one was to love the other. 
What ... love?!
Pain can be subjective, just like any emotion, but that does not diminish its impact on one's life. The heart will make itself known to the mind whether the mind wants to know or not, but sooner or later, the heart will make the mind yield to the pain, the longing, and the wanting just to get a moment of peace. 
And that's where you were right now, at the door where your heart had broken down, letting the reality of your emotions spill at your feet. A door it begged you to walk through, but you were scared. You were a coward. For Alastor saw you through his darkness, his shadow, and you saw him through his. 
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To knock or not to knock. That is the question.  
It had been 23 days since your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby. When he had branded you with a kiss that still burned. Marking you with a curse that tore your heart out and poisoned your mind. Longing for the time when it had been just you and Alastor's shadow, but now all your memories of the shadows had been replaced with the man himself. Giving you a genuine smile that only your eyes were allowed to see. To be given the privilege, the trust, to see him. To see the man and not the sinner. To see the soul and not the demon.
Everyone longs for love, no matter what form love comes in, longing for companionship. Trust. Strong arms to fall into with hands that could hold us up when our legs can't bear the burden anymore. And you knew that Alastor could be the arms you wished to fall into, but did he still want to fall into yours?  
To knock or not to knock. That is the question.
The door to Alastors room felt like the doors to an impenetrable fortress. A domain that used to reek of him but now lured you with promises you longed for but feared as well. 
With your crossword puzzle in hand, you counted down from five to zero before lifting your shaking fist and knocking on the door softly. A part of you hoped that he wasn't there so you could run back down to the lobby and forget that you had ever had this stupid idea. The idea of mending your relationship. 
However, you were not so lucky, for Alastor soon opened the door. His smile twitched as his eyes fixed on you, and if you weren't imagining things, you thought you heard a soft chirping sound behind him.
"Yes?" Those were the first words he had uttered to you in 23 days. The only words you had allowed him to say to you in 23 days. 
Swalloing the stone in your throat, you let out in a rushed ramble:
"Canyouhelpmewithmycrossword?"
"I'm sorry?"  
"My crossword," you said, trying not to have a shaky voice, "can you help me with a clue? I can't figure it out."
You held out your newspaper with the crossword to him, pointing at the specific clue you had in mind. In reality, you had already figured it out 30 minutes ago, but Alastor didn't need to know that. He looked from you down to the newspaper, then back up at you again. His eyebrow raised. 
"Very well," was all he said as he looked down at the newspaper and the clue again, but by bending down, you now had his head right beside yours. You wondered if his big ears meant he could hear better and if he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest. Could he hear how it called out to him? How it had howled at your mind to let him back into your life again.
"The answer is Erato, the muse," answered Alastor and straightened up again.
"Oh, right. That makes sense," and that was when you remembered that Erato wasn't just any muse, but a muse whose name meant desire, and never had you desired for the smallest of touch from another before. Looking down at his lips, so red and soft, knowing what they had felt like on your cheek but maybe never getting the chance to touch them again was torture. 
"Was there anything else?"
Like a record scratch, you were hurled back into reality, looking back up at Alastor, who was studying you intensely. This is where your mind won over your heart, and you became a coward again. 
"No! Thank you for the help!" you practically screamed as you stiffly stormed down the hallway, away from the sinner who closed the door to his domain, and you wondered if it was painful to die. 
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Work was slowly killing you, and it was not a pleasurable experience. Buried in paperwork, you had been staring at a document for the past half hour without really taking in the information. No matter how many times you would re-read the document, the words made less sense as you kept reading. Blurring together in one big mess that drained you of all your energy, the clock had not even struck 09:00 yet. 
Overwhelmed, you buried your face in your hands, your body leaning on the desk for support. You wondered how you were going to make it through the day if it continued at this excruciatingly slow pace. 
After a slight knocking, the door swung open, and someone entered your office. 
"Not now, Charlie," you said softly so as not to offend without looking up, "I told you I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me." 
However, no answer came, and when you looked up, you realised that it wasn't Charlie who had come knocking at your door again but Alastor, who was holding your favourite cup in his hand and a bag in the other.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," you said and began to stand up, but you slowly dropped down when Alastor walked over to your desk and sat down your cup. The smell of coffee filled your office and the mere thought of having that sweet beverage filled you with delight. Beside the cup, Alastor put down the brown bag he had held, and you instantly recognised the logo of the bakery from across town that you loved so much. 
As you looked at the bag, you felt a sudden jolt of surprise that made your body shake. You raised your gaze to Alastor, who was standing in front of you, and then back to the bag. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through you as you thought about the blueberry muffin that was waiting inside. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel wanted. What a wonder that such a small thing could make you feel so special and warm on the inside. 
That warmth was something you hadn't felt in a long time. Ever since Alastor's shadow stopped visiting your office, you had felt incredibly lonely. You missed the little conversations you used to have with him and the way he always seemed to know just what to do to make you feel better. You even found it hard to go to the bakery and get your muffin in the morning because it made you feel too alone for your liking.
But now, as you had the bag in front of you, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally starting to look up again. Maybe Alastor was back in your life for good, and you could once again look forward to those little moments of happiness that made your day a little brighter. 
"I... thank you, Alastor. I greatly appreciate it." Your heart skipped a beat when Alastor looked down at you and gave you a small, genuine smile. 
"You're welcome, my dear," he said softly as he turned to leave your office. His demeanour was calm and collected, yet you could sense a certain warmth and friendliness in his voice.
"Have you seen the roses yet?" the words rushed out of you before you could hold yourself back, too desperate for his company now that you had gotten it back. 
"Pardon?" asked Alastor without turning around to look at you fully. His hands were resting on his microphone cane. 
"The roses, in the garden. They've bloomed, almost all of them. They're... they're breathtaking. You should see them." Your knee started to nervously bounce under your desk as sweat began to gather in your palms. The man had managed to render you a nervous wreck so fast, his presence alone stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. 
"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'll make sure to walk around the garden on my break today. I can imagine that they are lovely." 
Thinking this was the end of the conversation, you turned back to your dreadfully dull documents.
"Would you care to join me?" asked Alastor, his soft yet hesitant voice making your heart skip a beat. It was as if the air around you had suddenly become charged with an unspoken tension, making you wonder if he was nervous as well.  
"In the garden?"
"Yes." 
"I... I would love to." 
"Wonderful. I'll come to get you around twelve if that works for you."
"Great! I look forward to it."
As he walked out, you couldn't help but sit back in your chair and take a deep breath. You felt a sense of relief and contentment, knowing that Alastor still seemed to want to try a new connection—something new and unexplored. You picked up your coffee and took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through your body. Alastor had managed to wake the butterflies within you again with a single act of kindness.  
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­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Your and Alastor's relationship had improved immensely over the week. However, there was just this little problem that kept bugging you. Alastor had not touched you in any way, not even laid his hand on your shoulder or offered his arm when the both of you had walked through the rose garden. While this wasn't uncommon, you rarely saw him really touch anyone in the hotel except for the odd pat on the head, but his shadow had been so physically affectionate that you yearned for the intimacy of it all. 
While not overly affectionate, the shadow had not hesitated to hold your hand or rest on your shoulders. It wasn't that you wanted to carry Alastor on your back, but the simple act of holding hands seemed like a distant dream. 
You sank deeper into the sofa in the hotel lobby as you glanced at the deer demon sitting by the fireplace above your newspaper—your crossword puzzle long forgotten. Alastor was sitting cross-legged with a book in one hand and a glass of rye whisky in the other, silently humming to the song he played from the antique radio he had summoned, and for some reason, you thought that he had never looked more attractive.
Satan's sweaty balls, you used to party every weekend and only come home after you had tried every type of alcohol the club had to offer, and now you were in love with a sinner whose favourite pastime was listening to jazz while drinking whisky. Your younger self would have hated what you had become, but in the present, you felt a deep sense of contentment, wanting nothing more than to have a quiet evening with Alastor, where he would read out loud to you from his book in front of the fire with your head in his lap, listening to jazz.
Angel Dust shouted a loud good night and started to walk up the stairs to his room after another hour had passed. Charlie and Vaggie, who had been sitting by the dining table and doing a jigsaw puzzle, were the next ones who left the lobby. Charlie's good night was barely audible because of how much she was yawning. The last one to leave the lobby was Husk, who you knew stayed longer than he usually did just so he could keep an eye on you. You quickly shot him a meaningful glaze, trying to tell him that everything was fine, which he seemed to understand. 
"Night," grunted Husk as he started to walk up the stairs. 
"Good night, Husk!" you shouted back, grateful that you and Alastor had some more time alone. That is if you actually dared to do anything. 
The chance to change the mood was almost too good, too romantic for you to think clearly. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do. You could ask him about his day, but that felt too predictable. You could ask him about his book, but what if the book is boring and you can't make the conversation sexy? Would he even like that? He was flirty in a very subtle and charming way, but would he like it if you took a more direct approach? 
Without knowing it, you had spent all your time thinking of all the things you could do with Alastor now that you were alone with him that you completely lost track of time. It wasn't until he closed his book and stood up that you were pulled away from your thoughts back into the present. 
"Well, it is getting quite late. Sweet dreams, my dear." 
Panicking again like he so often made you do, you blurted out the first thing you could think of to make him stay. 
"Do you know the dance foxtrot?" You fucking idiot, of all the things you could have asked, why did you ask that?!
Alastor turned to you while raising a brow, and even if he looked at you with a curious gaze, you could not help but feel like the biggest fool in all of Hell. You used to be smooth when flirting and look at yourself now.
"I do. Why do you ask, my dear?" 
There was no backing down anymore, so you took a deep breath, cheeks and ears burning, and confessed;
"I've always wanted to try it! I've seen others dancing it, I even know the moves, but I've never had anyone to dance with." 
In the blink of an eye, the music on the radio changed from a soft and slow jazz song to one with a more precise and faster beat. Alastor bent down and left his book on his chair before he walked over to you. 
"May I have this dance?" he asked with a mischievous smile. 
Not caring anymore about dialling down your excitement, you gave him the biggest smile as you took his hand. Letting him pull you off the sofa. His hand was warm and soft, sending tingles up your arm as he gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles. 
As Alastor pulled you towards him, he quickly established that he would lead the dance. With your hand on his shoulder and his between your shoulder blades, he pushed you into the first step of the foxtrot. The rhythm of the music began to take over, and he started to spin you around the empty hotel lobby. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the wind rushing against your skin as you twirled around and around. 
As he spun you, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt like the only person in the world as you looked deep into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. It was a look you didn't see often, but sometimes, when it was only you and him, you could catch a glimpse of a softer look from Alastor. A look that made the butterflies in your stomach make loops in excitement. It was a look that made you feel cherished and admired, and it was a feeling unlike any other. 
The dance seemed to last forever, and you didn't want it to end. You felt free and alive, and you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget. 
When the song came to an end, a new song began directly after it. This one is slower than its predecessor, one that you couldn't necessarily dance the foxtrot to, for it was a song that called for a type of slow dancing. 
Without hesitation, Alastor pulled you closer towards him as his hand moved from between your shoulder blades down your back. Leaving a trail of fire under your skin as his hand pulled you closer to him after it stopped in the middle of your back. 
None of you said anything but continued slowly dancing to the music on the radio. His red eyes, heavy-lidded, looked deep into yours as he slowly dipped down and kissed your lips.
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Happy 'burn a big ass bonfire so the witches who are flying to the devil's party fly into the bonfire instead' day, everyone! (If you can guess which country I'm from, from that, I'll be really impressed)
Taglist for the part 2: @littledolly2345 @slytherin4ever @wendds @beelz3bub @adamwarlockislife-blog @ilikemyteawithmilk @cherry-cola-100 @xia21 @rae-pottah @xsoftdead18 @arrozyfrijoles23 @maulsgf
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bisexualiteaa · 1 day
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Feo, Fuerte Y Formal
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Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)
CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)
AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰
Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!
Tag list: @expirednukacola
It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.
He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.
Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me.
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.
The room was completely black.
I hugged her and she hugged back.
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.
I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.
It’s just like the fella said,
“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
She’s telling me we’ll be wed.
She’s picked out a king-size bed.
I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.
Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?
He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.
“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.
“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.
173 notes · View notes
gauloiseblue · 3 days
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And at every table / I'll save you a seat
(Gaz × Reader)
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[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]
Tags: fluff, smut, family issue, friends to lovers, slow burn, [A bit of warning] tradition view on virginity and marriage, piv sex
Words: 9.8k
It all started with a little request
"Will you take my virginity?"
He's taken aback by the ask, but he quickly regains his composure.
"No." He replied.
You look at him for a while, before you mutter out, "I understand."
"Wait," He grabs your hand before you could turn around, "Let's talk about it."
He observes the hesitation rising from your face when you look away, "I don't think you'd understand."
"You haven't tried yet." He smiles gently, "Try me, (Name)."
"... It's a long story."
"I got time for it." He told you, "Tea?"
With that, he invites you into his place.
You're silent when he offers you a seat, and he lets you sit with your thoughts as he works on the drink. It's not your first visit to his apartment, since you've been here quite often. But you never came with a somber mood, and he didn't know what to say to cheer you up.
He hands you the cup, before he pours the tea from the pot. He hears you murmur something, and though he doesn't quite catch it, he can roughly guess it.
"So," He began as he sat down across the table, "Would you mind telling me why you suddenly wanna lose it?"
You had blown the steam away from the cup, before you took a sip. He watches you take your time with the drink, until you're ready to talk.
"I know that I said I'm keeping myself until marriage, but I don’t think it's possible now." You bit your lip, as you fidgeted with the handle of your cup, "Because I'm going to be wed to someone I didn't know."
He raises his brows at your statement, "That practice still exists today?"
"Yes, it still does." You begin to explain the outline of the story. "My family came from a community that still holds an orthodox belief. My parents aren't conservative, but they can't escape the tradition either. When they told me about the engagement, I begged them to call it off, yet they asked me to go with it. But I don't want that. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage." Your eyes shift as you hold back tears, "I know that they love me, if they don't, I won't be here. Away from home."
You quickly wipe your cheek before you continue, "The man who'll be my husband is highly respected in the community, but he's at the same age as my mother. I don't know why he asked for my hand, we barely talked. But for the last few months, he began to send me gifts. It's customary for a suitor to give the girl presents as a way of courting. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details."
He waits for you to gather your thoughts, before you start again.
"To be a bride, it's common for a girl to go through a ceremony, to see if the girl is suitable for marriage. I have to fulfill all of certain criteria to be recognized as a proper fiancée." You snort when you mention it, "Ky, you're a smart person, you must've known what that means."
He crosses his arms when you subtly ask him to make the conclusion. "If you fail the virginity test, then you're ineligible to be a bride."
"There are other factors that can annul the engagement, but yes, purity is the most important aspect for the bride to have." You stated, "If I fail that test, then I can be free from the custom."
"Won't you be shamed for… not being pure?" He carefully asked.
"Yes, but It's better than the other option."
You went quiet after the confession, as if you've retreated back to your shell.
He gazes at you long and closely, while a sense of familiarity comes to rest on him. The way you carry yourself reminds him of the old you—who couldn't look him in the eyes when you both were strangers.
"Say," He begins, as he rubs his face, "If I were to help you, what then?"
"Nothing, we can pretend it never happened."
"You know it's not possible, right?" He frowned, "We can't go back like we used to, at least I can't see it that way."
"I know, but I don’t have a lot of choices." You replied with a sigh, "I can never sleep with a stranger, and I can't do it myself either." You told him, "I have to lose it somehow, but I don’t know how. And the reason I asked you this because you seem to have a lot of experience, so—"
You stop when he presses his hand against his lips. While it's impossible to tell if he blushes or not, you swear you see a red tint on his cheeks.
"You're not…?"
He scratches his neck, as he coyly replies, "My ma raised me well, (Name). Of course I'd save myself before marriage."
"Oh—" You cover your mouth in shock, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked you—"
"It's alright." He smiles, "How much time you have left until the ceremony?"
"About a month." You answered.
"I'll help you then." He said with such ease, that it made you stare at him wide-eyed, "But let me take you to a date first."
"What," You gulped, "What do you—Why? I thought… you said no…?"
"I hate seeing you like this, and I don't want you to resort to one night stand." He told you, "Besides, you didn't force me into this."
"But I did make you sympathize with me." You shook your head, "That's why you changed your mind."
"I said no because I knew you're saving yourself for marriage."
"But you said that you did too."
"That makes us even then." He tilts his head, "I'll take yours, and you'll take mine."
You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of it. Not because you're at loss for words, rather, you have too many questions in your head.
"You can decide how many dates we'll go before you decide if you want to do it." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, "How's that sound?"
Although you're still unsure at that time, you can't help but nod at the offer.
The first time he takes you on a date, it's on Sunday, 07:20 PM, at an independent cinema. He phoned you earlier, telling you that they're going to play an old romantic film.
"I thought you like mystery?"
"Yeah, but you wouldn't pick that on the first date." He grins, "Besides, the movie has Binoche in it."
By the time you arrive at the cinema, you spot him talking to another man by the ticket booth. He turns his head when he hears your call, before the other man leans to the side to see you.
"You're early." You told him.
"I could say the same to you." He said with a smile, "The movie's starting in 10, c'mere."
He extends his hand towards you, and you take it with a little bit of apprehension.
The man whistles when he drapes his arm around your shoulders, "I see ya bringing a date tonight."
"Yeah," He turned to you, "Ain't she pretty?"
His friend chuckles when your face turns red, "Can't argue with that."
"Well, we'll talk later. I'm gonna show her around for a bit." He gives the man a pat on his arm, "You still have that shrine of yours?"
"'Course!" He warmly retorted, "Wouldn't close it for ya."
He mutters something back to him, and the man gives him a thumb up. When the two of you part with him, you ask him about the shrine.
"It's just a room full of merchs." He explains, "He's a movie fanatic, so when he liked a film, he'd find any of the collectibles."
"Like graphic t-shirts?"
"More than that." He grins, "You'll see."
At the end of the hall, there's a door smaller than the theater one. He opens it for you, and guides you inside.
The room is roughly the size of a humble apartment, but it's filled with many posters and other things you have to see up close to know what they are. Your eyes scan the movie posters that are mounted on the wall, before you turn to a doll. It's a porcelain doll, adorned with old-fashioned clothes. You lift the little paper beneath it and begin to read.
"It's from 'Interview With The Vampire'." You hear him say, "It's one of the collections that he's proud of."
"I've seen that movie years ago." You murmured, while tracing the edge of the paper with your finger, "I didn't understand what the story was about, until I read the book."
"You read the novel?"
You nod, "I still read it from time to time. Oh, would you look at that." He turns his gaze towards the spot you point at, "Didn't we watch that movie together?"
"Mulholland Drive?" He rubs his chin, "Didn't you say you hate it?"
"Well, I did. But it's been stuck in my head since then." You turn on your heel and skim through the titles of the posters, "I see a lot of foreign movies but not french." You commented, "Isn't he a movie fanatic?"
"He is. Just not a hypocritical one." He replied, "He told me that many of the French directors are lecherous, and they like to put their fantasies into their movies. Guess what caused them to earn a good rating?"
"I don't know, affinity bias?"
"Precisely." He grins, "He likes a few French films though, like Plein Soleil, Amélie, Playtime,"
"Léon?" You smirk.
"He'd berate you if you ever mentioned that name in front of him."
You laugh at his playful warning, "I think I like him."
"Too bad, he already has a wife." He circles his arm around you, "Why don't I introduce you to someone else?"
You roll your eyes at him, as you're so used to hearing those words.
"Yeah, his name is Kyle Garrick, and he's currently single."
"Come on, you loved it the first time you heard it."
"Well, I did laugh at it, but it's getting old." You jest as you poke in his ribs, "Try something else, and maybe I'll fall for it."
And he gives you a response that gets you burst into a laughing fit. You shove him away as you retort back, ignoring the quiet tension that begins to hang in the air.
When the two of you enter the theater, he places his hand on your back as he guides you to your seat. Though it's just a small gesture, it sends a warm feeling to your stomach.
He settles down beside you, and his arm brushes against yours. The seats are quite broad compared to the commercial cinema, but still, there's not much space left between you and him. You try not to think about it too much, as you rest your hand on the same armrest as his.
The opening of the film with the scenery of a small town, before it shows the greetings between churchgoers and the neatly dressed gentleman. It then cuts to a standing crowd, who begins their worship with singing. You frown when you listen to the narrator, as she portrays the minds of the villagers as singular. As the hymn comes to an end, the parishioners bend down to sit on the pews, before the pastor climbs up to give a sermon. The colors of the scene contrasts with the next bit, as it cuts to two figures in the middle of the snow. The figures are covered with red hoods that they hold tightly as they walk against the wind.
The movie soon changes right after the wind blows the church door open. It focuses on the two figures earlier—a mother, and a daughter, as they begin to settle down at their new house.
Scene after scene, the narratives begin to blur into one, and you let yourself be immersed into the flow of the film. Instinctively, your body leans forward as you watch the chocolate and the store begin to take form. Yet in doing so, you missed the look your friend gave.
When the first conflict happens, you can't help but show your dislike towards the man—the well-dressed man from the beginning. But it soon dissipates when the woman invites her guest inside.
They talk for a little while, and the way she—her guest behaves, the clumsiness that she shows—that makes her look like a cornered cat, it almost looks surreal, as if you're watching yourself from the future scope. You press your hand against your lips, as the crease between your eyes deepens.
Perhaps it's just the right moment, or perhaps your thoughts spill over into his, that he decides to push your head gently onto his shoulder.
You were taken aback by the gesture, but you welcomed it. You murmur something to him, as you wrap your hand around his arm.
"What?" He asked in a low tone.
"Nothing." You told him while hiding your smile.
Kyle Garrick. You wonder if kind has always been his middle name. If it's not kind, then it must be thoughtful. It must be nice, to receive such affection from a man like him. In the midst of thoughts cartage, you begin to ponder, if it's alright for you to keep them from someone who's more deserving.
At the end of the movie, you slip your hand from his arm, as you stand up from your seat. You still remember the way he understands, and doesn't push further. He keeps the rest of the night in a lighthearted mood, though his hand lingers on you a little longer, and his gaze doesn't stray further from you, even just a little bit.
That night, you lay down on your bed with your thoughts as your lullaby. It doesn't help you sleep, but it does keep you company for the night.
The next day, you ask him if he's free on Friday.
It's curious how fast he responded back, considering that he still got jobs to do, particularly reports. When you read the message, you bite your lips as you type a new one.
'Wanna have dinner together?'
A new chat pops up in a second.
'Sure'
And another one after.
'When?'
'Today' You reply, 'Takeouts?'
'Let me cook for ya'
And it's settled.
When you show up on his doorstep, he opens it up the first time you ring the bell.
"Hey," He greets you with a grin, and you notice a red stain on his shirt, "Come in."
"Smells good." You commented as you stepped in, "What are you cooking?"
"Bolognese." He replied, "I haven't decided on the pasta yet. What do you want? Pappardelle or spaghetti?"
"Fusilli?" You said, before a smile betrays your lie, "Anything's fine, really."
"Pick a color then. Yellow or blue?"
"Yellow."
"Pappardelle then."
You thought it's just a random decider, until you saw the color of the packaging.
"Guess you're used to people who say it's up to you." You remarked while you climbed on the bar stool.
"You can say that." He chuckles as he drops the pasta into the pot.
"Were they your dates?"
"Pshh, no. Just my little brothers and sister. You know the story."
"I know." You trailed off and looked away, "But you must've had those moments in your dates."
"Like what you did earlier?" He smirks and you groan at him.
"Come on, you know I'd never complain about your choice."
"I know, that's why I like you."
"You always say that."
The conversation ends with a quiet chuckle, as he goes back to watch over the boiling water. You sense a reply from him that should be laid bare, but he left it at surmise.
"Dinner's ready." He announced, as he lifted up the plates from the counter. You follow him to the dining table, and you pull a seat while he places the dishes on the table.
As the two of you dig in, you quietly bite on the broad pasta. You might not be aware of it, but you always chew on your food longer when you're preoccupied with your mind.
You hear his voice as you snap out of your thoughts, but not clear enough for you to grasp.
"What?"
"It's alright if you wanna back down." He repeated, as he swirled the pasta with his fork, "I agreed to help you because you asked me to, but I know it might make things awkward between us, so."
"Oh, that's not—it's not about that, it's just," You chewed on your lip, "It's just that, when I think about you, I can't help but think that… I'll end up stealing something from you." You shook your head, "You could wait for the right person, you're not obligated to help me—"
"Well, I want to."
"I know, that's why I feel bad because I knew you wouldn't hesitate to help." You frown, "You're too kind for me, Ky. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get the wrong idea."
You almost jump when he holds your hand, and witness the fortitude that reflects in his eyes. "Go ahead then, go on and get the wrong idea. Because it might be true after all."
The way he said it—with a clear, unmistakable voice, drags you into silence. You can't find the words to say, nor the right response for his statement. While you're not entirely sure about the truth, you can see the trace of it on his face.
Your throat begins to tighten, and you try to swallow down whatever's in the way.
You know that he's hopeful that you'd give him some kind of clarity, but you don't. You couldn't.
After the dinner, you don’t extend your visit as you excuse yourself from staying.
"Let me take you home."
You shake your head, "I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
You shoot him a smile, "Yes, don't worry about me."
He seems hesitant for a moment, but it disappears the moment you pull him into a hug.
"I'll call you when I'm home."
He picks up the phone at the second ringtone, and asks you if you're home. You give an affirmative answer, before the line turns silent.
The words that had wrapped around your throat came back to the surface. They beg to be let out of your tongue, but you bite them down. Not now. Not yet.
The call ends not long after, as you both say goodnight. As you sit down on the vanity stool, you look at the reflection of you in the mirror. It's the shape that you've known so well, and yet, you don't recognize it at the same time. Has your face already been like this? Is this what he always sees whenever you're around?
Absent-mindedly, you reach up to touch your lips. What would you taste like, if he ever kissed you?
Unfortunately, you can only imagine for now.
Four days would pass, and you soon find yourself waiting for the bell. He had messaged you earlier, telling you that he'll pick you up at your place.
The destination of your date is still unknown, since you only asked him to take you to somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can talk without the presence of curious ears. Of course, the first thought that came to your mind is the privacy of your home, but he got another idea, and kept it as a surprise.
"Bring a jacket with you." He told you on the phone, "You might need it."
But you don't know how cold it'll be, so you stick with a cardigan.
When he gets to your place, he doesn't ring the bell. Instead, you hear your phone rings, before a honk of a car announces his arrival. You walk out of your place and lock the door behind.
"Where are we going?" Is the question you asked him after you got into his car.
"You'll find out." He replied with a grin.
He doesn't give you any clue, other than the paper bag on the back seat. He also told you that it's a one-hour drive, so it's alright if you want to rest your eyes.
"I'm fine." You said, as you turned on the radio.
The ride is predominantly filled with songs, and the occasional chat between you and him.
On the other day, you either wouldn't stop talking, or you'd sit in comfortable silence. But that morning, both options seem unreachable.
"I'm sorry." You uttered quietly.
"What?"
"Sorry that I dragged you into this." You muse, "And I'm sorry that I made such a big deal out of it. I made things worse, didn't I?"
"Why'd you say that?"
"Because things have already changed between us, even when we haven't done anything."
"You think so?"
"Yes," You divulged, "When you said those things, I couldn't help but think that maybe you really meant it. But then again, you never told me anything before. Anything that could… indicate something."
"Are you sure?" You frown at his reply, "Think again, (Name)."
"What—?"
The car comes to a halt, and you snap your head towards the window. The usual view of the city has been replaced with trees. You stare at the board near the entrance, and you notice the words 'National Park' on it.
"We're here." He stated while unbuckling the seat belt.
You soon follow him as you push the door open. The cold air rushes inside, and makes you shiver.
He offers you his hand when you step out of the car. "Let's take a walk."
The trail that he chooses isn't as rough as you thought, and you can easily keep up with his speed. Though you knew that he slowed it down for you.
As you walk by his side, you feel a tug on your hand. It was his hand, and he wrapped it around yours. He smiles when you turn to him, and mutters out the same line he used whenever you're out with him.
"Wouldn't want to lose you here."
And it just clicked. Every piece of the puzzle just falls into the right place, and you begin to see the whole picture. He never changed at all, it was you who's changing.
"You like me."
You feel his hold tightens, before he loosens it up a second after.
"Like is an understatement."
"I'm afraid to use the stronger word."
"I know." He spoke softly, "That's why I never said it."
At the end of the path, a quiet lake waits for the two of you, providing a place for a silent conversation. The water is calm, but the breeze is colder than before. You hug yourself, trying to savor the little warmth that your cardigan provides. It doesn't take seconds before you hear a rustle, and feel yourself wrapped in a parka.
"Told you to bring a jacket." He murmured, as he held the garment for you.
His coat is warm, as if it has absorbed the heat of his skin. Your hands slip into the sleeves, before you roll up the cuffs. You watch his face as he zips up the parka, before he returns your gaze.
Perhaps it's him who leans closer, or it's you who wraps your hands around him first, but in the end, your lips meet with his. The kiss you both share is soft, and filled with longing. It's impossible to tell who's feeling it belongs to, but it envelopes around you like a mist.
When the two of you part, you smile as you murmur against his lips.
"I like you."
He softly chuckles as he cups your face, "I'm glad."
You both recognize the nuance of it, but no one speaks of it louder than a heartbeat.
I like you. What an understatement.
"Why do you like me?"
He lifts his head from the magazine when he hears your question.
"I could tell you all of the reasons, but at the end of the day, I simply like you."
"Really?" You roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying you don't know?"
He lets out a small laugh, while he closes the mag. "Fine, I'll tell you." He begins, "I can't remember when it was, but we're pretty close at that time. We were just talking that night, and you asked me if I chose to be the giver because I felt uncomfortable receiving. I never thought about it, but it made sense. When I said yes, you told me, if I don't learn to receive, then I'd end up hurting other people. Because I denied their affection."
You lift your brows at the recount, "Did I really say that?"
"Yes, but it's not your words that got me the most. It's the way you broke my logic, and helped me see things from a new perspective." He stated, "It felt… nice, to be understood by you." He rubs the nape of his neck, "Well, what about you? Why do you like me?"
"I'm not sure." You pucker your lips, "I think I've always liked you. Because you're thoughtful, and it's something that's easier to say than done."
"Just that?"
"What? You want more?"
"Yeah," He smirked, "Go on."
You look at him long and hard, before you decide, "No."
"Why?"
"I'd say something embarrassing."
"Like what?"
"... I'm not telling."
He jumps on the sofa as he seizes your body. You squeal when he digs his fingers on your waists, and you shout, "Cut it out!"
He chuckles when you try to slap his hand away and fail, "C'mon, tell me." He grins, while his hands don't stop tickling you.
"Stop—I'm not telling—!"
When he had you pinned down, you kicked around to get him off you. Which, unfortunately, ends up knocking the empty glass on the table. You both watch in horror as the glass falls off the surface, and into the floor.
But it doesn't shatter. Instead, it bounces twice, before it rolls in a half circle. When it stops moving, it takes about five seconds before the two of you burst into laughter.
"That's the second time you almost broke it."
"Sorry." You muttered through your giggle, "But whose fault was it?"
"Me." He grinned, before slowly bent down to kiss you.
Just like the other kisses you've shared, it goes on for more than a minute. He gently guides you as he cups your cheeks. Your arms find their way around his neck, and keep him close to you.
He leans his forehead against yours, as he catches his breath. You observed the way his chest rises and falls while you follow the same rhythm. Maybe you soften at the sight of him, or maybe a kiss'd really loosen up someone's tongue, that's why the words fall out of your mouth so easily.
"I like your kisses."
He raises his head as he turns his gaze on you. "Was that the thing you're embarrassed to admit?"
You give his shoulder a punch.
"Hey." He retorted with a chuckle, "'M just kidding."
He presses his lips on your cheek, before he lays down on your side. You shift your body to give him space, and settle your head on his arm, while the other one is wrapped around you.
"Comfy?"
You nod, "You're warm."
"Glad to be your heater."
You bury your face into his chest as you giggle.
"I just wish you're portable," You jest, "So I could use you whenever I'm cold."
"Who says I'm not portable?"
"Well, you can't be with me 24/7."
"Careful what you wish for." He smirked.
You raise your brow at him, "Is that a warning?"
"Maybe."
"Mmm," You rested your finger on your chin, "Didn't sound like one."
"Really?" He teases, "Then you won't mind if I keep you here for the night."
"I'm busy tomorrow, so no." You hold your chuckle when you see him pout, "But I'm free next weekend, you can keep me until Monday if you want."
A glint of mischief crosses his eyes, as he pulls you into a kiss.
"I can't wait."
But waiting doesn't feel longer than you expect, since you meet him for dinner almost everyday. If one of you couldn't make it, you both would be on the call that night.
Talking has been a part of your relationship, even when the two of you still carried the friends title. You could talk with him for hours, and bring up every topic into it. Doesn't matter how random or strange. But there was a line that you both couldn't cross, something that kept the two of you in circles. And you thought it'd stay that way, until you stepped into the other side.
It's a wonder how a familial issue could push your relationship to this point, since you wouldn't think twice about him for the sake of friendship. Now that you've crossed the line, you have nothing to hide from him.
While it might be a good thing, it also leads you to unknown territories. When you're with him, you can no longer ignore the tension that fills the room. Any time that he kissed you, or held you tight in his arms, you couldn't help but think if this would be it. This would be the right time for it. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask.
Maybe that's the reason why—after the 2:01:31 mark on the call, you bring up the obvious question to light.
"Y'know Ky," You start, "I don't have much experience with sex, and neither do you. So how exactly are we gonna do it?"
The line goes silent for a moment, before you hear him draw a breath in. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"
"No—I mean, yes. But that's not my point." You sigh, "I just—I don't know, I feel like I need to learn about it before getting to the act."
There's a subtle hint of a rustle that you could only guess coming from the papers, "It'll definitely help if we do some research beforehand."
"But where do we start?" You asked, "Porn?"
"I wouldn't recommend that. It's… unrealistic."
"What then? 'A guide to sex' book? 'Sex for dummies'?"
You catch the sound of his chuckle from the speaker. "Only grandmas would read that."
"I would read that if it helps me prepare."
He hums, and your ear picks up the sound of clink, like a metal is placed against a wood. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How far have you gone with your partner in the past?"
You hum as you think back, "I think I stopped at heavy petting. I was in high school back then and I was curious. But it hurted, and I was bleeding after the session." You snort when you recall the moment, "Of course I freaked out, but when I secretly tested myself out, I found that I'm still a virgin. I could only guess that he tore something with his nail. That's why I bled."
"I see."
"What about you?" You asked, "How far have you gotten with it?"
"Same as you." He responded, "Fingering, oral, hand job, all the foreplay stuff."
You bite your lip as you hear his tone becomes heavier with each word, something that you notice whenever you dive into a risky topic.
"Should we give it a try?"
There's a pause from the other side of the call, before you receive a reply. "You sure you want it?"
"Yes." You breathe out, "We gotta start somewhere."
Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, as you wait for him to answer.
"Alright." He mused, and you felt the warmth creeping up from your lower belly. "Is the plan still on?"
"What plan?"
"You staying over for the weekend?"
You smile against the phone as you reply, "Of course."
"I'll be waiting then."
Friday evening, you arrive at his door with a bag of clothes and other necessities. When the bell rings, it takes about three seconds before the door swings open.
He greets you in the usual manner, except this time he speaks in a softer tone.
"Hey." He smiles upon seeing you, "Come in."
He steps aside when you walk in, before he takes the bag from your hand. You mutter a small 'thank you', and wait for him in the living room while he puts your things aside.
"You want something to drink?" He offered, but you shook your head.
"I'm fine."
You watch him come near you, before he bends down to his knees. You raise your brows when he tugs your hand towards him, and presses a kiss onto your palm.
"Can we talk?"
"About what?" You asked.
"Your boundaries." He squeezed your hand gently, "What's your preferences, what you're not comfortable with,"
"Oh." You look down to your lap to hide your blush, "I don't have any preference yet, I think." You shrug, "I have to experience it to know what I like or dislike, but I think I'm fine with everything you do. Just… don't treat me rough, because I don't think I can handle it."
"Wouldn't dream of hurting you." He pecks on your cheek. "Come,"
You stand from your seat as he pulls you up, and your body follows him naturally as he drags you with him. As he closes the bedroom door behind, your heart leaps when he lifts you up with his arms to kiss you. Your legs wrap around his waist, while you keep your hands on his chest.
When he lays you down on the bed, you push his body away for a little as you mumble, "My, aren't you eager."
He observes your face before he chuckles, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."
You moan when he presses his kiss on your neck, and you feel his hand slip under your garment. Soon, the elastic band of your underwear is dragged down on your skin, and you instinctively close your thighs together.
"Let me taste you, (Name)."
He tugs your pants down until they reach your ankles, he takes his time to unhook them from your feet, before pushing your legs apart. You call his name as a protest, but any attempt to cover yourself from him is useless.
"Ky—" You stare at him wide-eyed as he lowers his head to your core, to the point that you can feel his breath against your labia. Your body tenses up when he gets the first taste of you, before he buries his tongue into your core.
"Tell me if I hurt you." He told you, and waited until you nodded to continue.
You gasp when he presses his tongue against your clit—not out of pleasure, but foreign feeling as the rough texture of his tongue latches on your nub. Your hand shoots up to grab his hair, while your legs clamp on his head. He grunts when you squirm away, and links his arms around your thighs to keep you still.
At first, you only feel a strange sensation every time his tongue swipes against your bundle of nerves, but soon it builds up into a familiar surge. Warmth begins to spread from your lower region, and you muffle a moan when he flicks his tongue on your sensitive clit.
"Ky—!" You hissed when it hit the right spot, "Keep going—"
Your hips bucks involuntarily as he sucks on the swelling bud, it sends an electricity through your body, before his lips detach from you. You whine at the loss of contact, but it doesn't take a second before his elastic muscle returns to its previous place.
The grip on his hair tightens as he picks up the pace, and soon the pleasure starts to coil inside your stomach. Your brows are knitted as you focus on his tongue, chasing after the high that's been hanging in front of you. It's not until you tilt your hips, that you finally reach it.
You cry out as your back arches, your eyes snap open as the wave of pleasure hits you. It was different, more satisfying than what you did on lonely nights. As you slowly come down, your body relaxes under his touch.
When he reaches up to kiss you, you chuckle as you taste yourself from his lips. "And you told me you're a virgin." You mused.
"I don't need to lose it to be good at oral."
You roll your eyes and hold him off by his chest, "Yeah right."
He seems taken aback when you push him to the side, before straddling him between your legs. Your hands work on his pants, as you loosen up the drawstring. "What are you doing?" He muttered out.
"Returning the favor." You replied with a smirk, while you tugged down his pants.
You've seen the outline of his member when he's still dressed, but now that you strip him off, you finally get the full view of it.
You sense his gaze on you as you stare at his cock. Your hand reaches out to touch the tip, and it twitches under your fingertips.
"Are you just gonna stare?"
"Patience." You shot him a teasing look, "I was just admiring."
He props himself up to watch you bend down, taking his length into your mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you slowly drag your tongue along the shaft. Your fingers wrap around his base, and begin to give it a pump.
His breath becomes shallower with each stroke of your hand, while you wrap your lips around his cock. The tip feels hot on your tongue, as if it's filled with impatience. He groans as you sink your mouth deeper, "Keep going, baby."
You perk up at the nickname he used, but it needs to wait before you can bring it up to him, since your mouth is occupied at the moment.
He places a hand on your head, and runs his fingers through your hair before they settle on your crown. You grunt when he begins to rock his hips gently, while his hand gives you no room to pull back. He's careful enough not to push too deep, but he still overwhelms you.
"That's it—" He panted, brows knitted together as he focused on you. "Fuck—"
His heavy breath, his gentle grip on your hair send warmth through your body. It's not the first time you've done this, but it's the only time you felt desired. He's eager, but he's careful at the same time. He doesn't rush things, he fixates on the moment instead. When you place your hand on his thigh, he slows down as he loosens up his grip on you.
"You alright?"
You nod before you pull away from him.
"I want to ride you."
His brows are raised as you climb on top of him, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He takes a sharp breath when your core touches the base of his member, leaving a wet trail as you grind on him. You hear a quiet groan from his sighs, and it becomes heavier each time you pick up the pace.
You bite your lip as you feel your core throb at the sight beneath you. The way his head digs into the pillow, half-lidded eyes and panting, and the way his muscles tense as he chases after pleasure. His hands settle on your waists, keeping you from moving too far from the right spot. Your breath comes out as a huff when the friction starts to get to you. It almost feels real, as if he's really inside you.
"I'm close." He chokes out a moan, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. "(Name)—"
Your lips curl into a grin when you hear the urgency in his voice. You lean down to kiss him, and he eagerly returns the favor. You grunt against his mouth, as you struggle to move with his arms wrapped tightly around you. But he doesn't seem to mind the erratic pace, since his hips move on its own.
His body shudders and he throws his head back as he groans, loud enough that you can feel his chest rumble through your palms. His member twitches against your core, spilling the white release onto both of your and his clothes. It takes a moment for him before he registers your lips on his neck, which he tilts his head and leans his cheek against yours.
"That was…"
"Good?" You grinned as you gave him a kiss.
"Great. Amazing. Ten out of ten." He chuckles, "Are you sure you're a virgin?"
You playfully pinch his cheek while you laugh, "Shut up."
He shoots you a coy smile, before he gently rolls you down with him on the bed.
"We should take a bath."
"Later." He muttered, wrapping one arm around you.
"Come on." You protested while tugging his hand off you, "We can cuddle after that."
"Fine," He lets you go, "Let's take a shower."
And he said it in a not-so-innocent voice.
The two of you end up prolonging the bath time, as he's taking you for a second round. If he's eager the first time, the second time must be worse. Since he's got the taste of it. You knew that he's exceptional, that he's a quick-learner, but you didn't expect it'd apply to sex as well.
The thing is, you never came with fingers alone. But when he cornered you in the shower, knuckles-deep in your core, he had you screaming as the sweet shock from the orgasm went through your body. He doesn't give you much of a break, as he bends you down until your ass touches his hip. You gasp in horror when you feel the tip of his dick against your drenched hole, he teasingly rubs himself on your labia, before it slips down to your clit.
He had your thighs pressed together, which made the friction even stiffer. You groan as he begins to thrust, hitting your throbbing bud everytime without mercy. He pins both of your wrists against the wall with one hand, while he keeps your body still with the other. It's almost unfair how strong he is to hold you down like this, and how cruel he is to tease you as he whispers dirty words into your ear. By the time you come, you have no energy left, even for standing.
He catches you right before your legs give up, holding you up while he sneaks a hand under the back of your thighs. You yelp when he props you up in his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom.
You land on the bed with a bounce, and receive no privilege to get up as he holds your legs together, before placing them against his shoulder. The color in your face is drained the moment his length rests on your thigh, fervent and heavy.
"I hope you're not tired yet," He grins, and you swear you see horns growing from his head the moment he says it, "Because I'm nowhere done with you."
Kyle Fucking Garrick.
You take back what you said about his middle name. It's not kind or thoughtful, it's fucking Prick.
It should've been obvious to you, after all the gossip you heard from your friends about him. Something that you thought as a baseless fact, a Lavater-physiognomy type of bullshit, but somehow they got it right. He's not as innocent as you defended him to be. He is freaky, and he's good at keeping it a secret.
After he exhausted you the night before, he decided that the best way to wake you up was with his mouth. Your clit was already swollen from yesterday's activity, and he abused it again in the morning. You stirred in your sleep, before your eyes snapped open at the sharp tug on your sensitive bud.
"G'mornin'." He greeted you the moment you woke up, still disoriented. "How's your sleep?"
You narrowed your eyes, as you tried to turn your vision focused. "Wha—" You slurred.
"Shh." He pushed you down to the bed, while his hand worked its way to your fold. "Let me take care of you, baby."
And thus you started your day with an orgasm.
Of course it's only the beginning, since it's him that you're talking about. He could make you faint in the bathroom if you didn't lock the door behind, and he could certainly numb your mind with his fingers if you didn't cut two apples for breakfast. But once you ran out of excuses, you're pretty much doomed.
While you knew he'd stop right away if you told him so, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because once he puts his hand on you, you just melt. The irritation that you carry in mind dissolves the moment he wraps you in his arms, and every curse you hold on your tongue comes out as a whimper, as his mouth latches onto your nape.
It's a game of self-will, and he plays it underhandedly. You both know what you want, but no one speaks of it, no one takes the initiative. You grit your teeth as frustration begins to take over you. It's pretty clear he wants you to say it, with the excuse that it's yours to decide. But he lures you with sweet words, and waves your much-needed release in front of you. Close enough for you to see, but far away from your reach.
And finally, after three neglected orgasms, you swallow your ego and beg. "Please Ky—" You cried out, "Please, just fuck me—"
His hand ceases to move, as he pulls it out of your sopping core. You whine at the loss of contact, before he muffles it with his kiss.
The trip to his bedroom is quite messy, with a lot of thrown clothes and sloppy kisses. When you find yourself on his bed again, you crawl up to give him some space. He follows after you, and presses his lips against yours with impatience. Faintly, you hear the sound of a wrapper being ripped, before he pulls away to roll down the rubber on his length.
He comes back to your side, locking his lips with yours again, while he slots his hips between your legs. Your hands find the purchase on his back as you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin the moment you feel his tip against your hole.
A gasp escapes your lips when he pushes himself in, stretching your pussy open with his dick.
"Shit, you're too tight." He hissed, as your walls tightened around his glans.
Your face contorts in pain, as he tries to squeeze himself deeper.
"No good." He mused, pulling himself out of you. You whimper as your hole clenches around nothing. "On your side, baby."
He gently rolls you to the side, sliding his arm below your head as he lays behind you. He places a hand under your cheek, and guides your lips back to his. You wince when you feel the nudge against your core, before it slowly sinks deeper into you.
It doesn't hurt much, compared to what you endured earlier. But it still stings, and you smack your palm against his hip when he begins to thrust. "Ky—" You moaned against his lips, gripping onto his skin as you felt yourself stuffed to the brim.
"Just a little more, baby." He places a kiss on your shoulder, while his hands find their way to wrap around your body. "Just a little more."
No words could form in your tongue, as your mouth snaps open at the steady thrust of his cock. It was slow, torturous, and left you wondering if you've underestimated his size.
But it soon comes to a stop, as his lower stomach touches the curve of your bottom. Your heart is beating against your chest, and you try to catch your breath while he showers you with kisses. The push of his hips comes to a halt, and you take it as a chance to rest. You lean your head back to his shoulder, giving him access to your neck, which he soon decorates with love marks.
"You alright?" He murmured, tenderly stroked your arm.
You hum as an answer. "You can move now."
"You sure?"
"Yes." You breathe out, "Please."
You sense a hesitation in his touch, before he presses a kiss on your temple.
"Tell me if it hurts."
You nod, giving his forearm a squeeze as a reassurance.
He shifts your body closer to him, readjusting the position to make it more comfortable. You raise your head a bit while he moves, before he guides you back to his arm. A grunt escapes your lips the moment he drags his member out, before he thrusts it back in. Your core flutters around him, as the numbness slowly fades into pleasure.
Perhaps your body is still sensitive from all the teasing he did, but you can't deny that he's good. Every stroke of his cock just hits right, as it grazes you in the place where his fingers couldn't reach. You grip his arm when you feel his pace quickens, filling the room with the wet slaps of the skins. And when his tip nudges the tender part of you, your body reacts in a way you don't expect.
He seems to notice it, as he lifts his head up to see your face. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear, and you yelped when he snapped his hips against yours.
"Oh God—" You scrabble at his body, trying to find something to grab on. "Do that again."
"Gladly."
A warning comes up to your throat, before it dies down as soon as he moves. You squirm against his strong grip, digging your nails into his thigh like a claw machine. When his cock grazes the right spot within you, you cry out a strangled moan. And the second time he does it, the suspicions you had in mind are all erased. He's no longer teasing you, because now he really intends to make you scream.
When he rolls on top of you, you feel your legs being spread apart with his knees. Stretching your pussy open for him to go deeper. With him on top of you, and your stomach flat on the bed, you have no room to crawl away.
His hand snakes around your shoulder, propping you up into a half-arched position. A whimper comes out of your mouth the moment he slams himself into you, while his lips are busy with your neck. Niping and sucking on your reddening skin. Your hand reaches up to the back of his head, gripping the curls of his hair as you moan.
"I'm close." You hissed, "Kyle—"
"I know, baby." He presses a kiss on your nape, "I know."
He raises your hips slightly, before slipping his hand between your thighs. Your body jerks when he touches your clit, rubbing it in a circle motion. The fact that it's already swollen doesn't help you either.
"Ky!" You claw his hand in panic, "I can't—I can't—"
"You can." He grunted against your ear, "Let it go, baby."
Your grip on his wrist tightens, as every muscle in your body tenses up. You could barely hold it when he fucked you slow, and now with his finger on your clit, you just break.
A loud cry fills the room as you come. Hard. Your eyes roll up, hands gripping tightly on the sheet until your fists turn pale. And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, until you gasped for air. Which comes in the form of short and trembling puffs. The moment of bliss and numbness only descends for short seconds, before you realize he's still inside you.
The burning sensation in your core comes back to you, although weaker than before. You whimper against the sheet, as he prolongs the high you just reached. His fingers no longer slotted between your folds, as they move to grip your waist. In daze, you begin to wonder when it'll end. Until you feel a shudder from the body on top of you, and a strangled moan falls from his mouth.
He rests his head on you, catching a breath, before he slowly rolls down to the side. You watch him as he wearily pulls off the condom, and throws it aside.
The two of you lay down still, mustering the energy that's left after the laborious session. Although you doubt if it's the same case for him, since he has no trouble getting up to fetch the tissue box.
As he wipes himself off, you mutter out with a low voice, "You've ruined me for other men."
He turns his head to you, before a grin spreads on his face. "Already thought about leaving?"
You know from his tone that he's not serious, but neither of you can carry the usual banter. At least not now.
"You know what I mean." You mused.
His face softens, as he bends down to kiss you. "I know."
You smile against his lips, and carefully shift your body until you lay on your back. He climbs on top of you, planting each arm on your side as he latches his lips on yours. You reach up to cup his face, pulling him closer as you part your lips, giving his tongue the access to dive into your mouth deeper. The two of you relish in each other's taste, before you feel something on your thigh.
"You're hard." You let slip what you saw, and he flushed.
"Sorry." He rubbed his neck, "You just… turn me on."
You observe his face for a moment, noting how he avoids your eyes whenever he's shy. His expression, and his candid confession set something in you, as you feel the warmth in your lower belly.
"I think we can go one more time."
"Aren't you tired?"
"A little." You replied, "But it's nothing I can't handle."
His eyes search into yours for a second, before he gives in.
"Alright." He uttered, "Let me grab the condom."
Now that you've gotten the taste of it, you can understand why sex is often called forbidden apple. Because once you put your teeth to it, you can't go back to what you're used to. No more friendly cuddles, and no more innocent kisses that won't lead to something.
While it's easy to get swept up in the new pastime, you can't help but worry. As a lot of 'what if's fill your thoughts. You never doubt him, no. But you'll never know what the future's like. For you and him.
One day, when the two of you lounge on the couch—with your head on his chest, as it rises and falls in a slowing rhythm, you divulge a question that's been eating you up.
"What if it doesn't work?" You brood, "What if he still wants to marry me despite of everything?"
You watch the subtle change in his face as he meets your gaze. "Do you want me to come along?"
"No," You muse, "It'll make things worse."
He hums, "Have you talked to your parents?"
"... No." You looked away, as you chewed on your lip. "No, I haven't."
"I think you should." He gives your arm a squeeze, "Talk to them, maybe they'll help you."
"They didn't help me at all." You said bitterly.
"You wouldn't know that, (Name)." He let out a quiet sigh, "Parents don't usually tell what they've done for their children. And that could be the case with yours."
"They didn't stop the engagement."
"Maybe they couldn't." He replied, "Hey, look at me." He gently pulls you to face him, "I know it's hard for you, and I can't imagine how you feel about it. But your parents love you, you said it yourself." He reassured you, "Maybe they didn't stop it because they're powerless, but they knew that you'd find a way out. After all, they're the one who told you about the ceremony, right?"
While you're still frowning at him, you begin to soften up in his hold. "... Yeah, they did." You muttered.
"They knew that you're against it and you'd deliberately failed one of the tests, so they just told you what to do and what you shouldn't. It's their way to tell you which one to break, and which one you should keep in mind." He sighs, "And I hate to say it, but I'd do the same if it's the only choice I have."
Though his words have put you at ease, you can't help but sense a new doubt entering your mind. "Will they… will they be okay if I fail the test? Won't it give them a bad name?"
"I think it's the risk they're willing to take." He smiled softly, "Talk to them, (Name). You need it."
You follow his advice two days later.
You've been mulling over the talk for days, going through all of the possibilities over and over again in your mind. You've prepared for a whole speech, but it all disappears once you hear their voices. Just like that, all of your thought falls from your mouth, as they flow out like a stream.
There's a lot of talking, a lot of 'sorry's, and maybe a few of tears. But in the end, you feel better.
As the conversation slips into a mundane, but comfortable chat, you slip his name between your life update. Though you have your doubts about it, it's worth telling in spite of all.
"You should introduce him to us." Your mother chirped, "Bring him with you the next holiday, I want to meet the lucky fellow."
You chuckle as you tell her alright, but no promise.
Four days later, on the evening at the airport, you reach up to kiss him before you say the words. You almost laugh at how easy it was, to say such words with such ease. And he'd laugh with you, if he wasn't struck by it.
"I thought you're afraid to use that word."
"Not anymore." You said with a smile, "Not with you."
He seems confounded for a moment, before he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.
"I hope you won't regret it, because I'll say that to you everyday from now on."
"Well, why don't you start now?"
You both chuckle, before he wraps his hands around you and pulls you into another kiss.
"I love you, (Name).
"Come home to me soon."
176 notes · View notes
shroomdreams · 2 days
Text
propagation 1: Argenti
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Cw: friends-to-lovers, reader in heat? (bugs don’t have heats but this is the best way to describe that), propagation monster!reader, pheromones, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, argenti revealed to be a monsterfucker???, implied virginity loss, afab!reader
AN: Just take this 💀 I am extremely unwell about this concept and Argenti
As a fellow Knight of Beauty, you and Argenti hit it off when you first met, landing on a planet where the locals were being accosted by some fragmentum creatures. You tagged along when your business was done, helping the citizens of the universe as his spear pierced enemies, while your shield protected the weak. All was well until a sudden event caused you to split from Argenti. Though you were saddened that you could no longer be with him, you continued on your journey.
In a way, you were happy that Argenti was no longer with you. Peeling off your armor and underthings, you gaze in the mirror with a frown. Humanity fades into purple chitinous armor, a pair of arms sprouting from your back alongside two, fragile cyan wings. Despite extolling the virtues of Beauty, there was nothing about you that can even be remotely beautiful. All you knew about yourself is that you were the product of something… awful. You’re lucky you haven’t remembered the details of your birth.
Today, you hid yourself away on the planet you first met Argenti. The locals welcomed you back with open arms, and even prepared a whole cabin for you to stay at. You couldn’t be more grateful for their generosity, especially considering the reason why you were hiding away in the first place.
Chrrrr…
To put it simply: The urge to Propagate had been calling to you for quite some time. Though your rigorous training and patience had managed to stave off the urge, you were bound to be overwhelmed. And for some infuriating reason, your thoughts were filled with the rosy-haired knight you met so long ago. How many months has it been since you last saw Argenti? Would he have remembered you?
Your body tingles, primal thoughts swirling in your mind. Argenti would be the perfect mate, your brain tells you. He’s strong, handsome, and you think an army of Argentis is exactly what this universe needs. However, you shake your head of these vivid images. You shouldn’t be thinking like that about your friend- You haven’t seen him in so long!
Hopefully, the urge will pass and you can return to roaming the universe, and perhaps bump into the rosy-haired man that plagues your mind. However, that plan is thrown out the window when you hear three knocks, and a familiar voice calling your name.
Argenti couldn’t believe his luck! Just as he visited this planet, he heard news that you were staying here for a while. His fellow Knight, and beloved friend, finally reunited with him. He contemplated on if he should bring something along- It’s only fair that he brings an apology for leaving you alone for so long…
Either way, Argenti await with a patient smile as he stands by the door of the modest cabin the locals said you were in. Such a quaint little building inspires warm feelings in him-
“A… Argenti?”
He’s quick to pick up the slight waver in your voice, how you seem to be tense about something. Argenti adjusts his stance. “My friend!” He calls out, resting a hand on the door. “It’s been quite some time. Do you mind if I come inside?”
“Oh, sure. Just… Give me a moment.”
He hears the rustling of clothes, followed by a meek “come on in.”
The interior of the cabin is rather nice. It certainly feels like a home, and the tasteful flowers everywhere really adds to the atmosphere. However, Argenti couldn’t help but notice a few peculiar objects scattered about. Mainly the strange, dull, purple orbs clustered together in a corner, and your armor tucked away in a nook. He quirks an eyebrow, before looking to you. You were rather disheveled, wrapped in a robe that seemed a bit too snug for you. There was also a rather sweet scent in the air, though he couldn’t exactly pin down what it was.
“A-Argenti, my friend. I’m sorry for the mess, today has not been kind to me.” You smile, patting the couch. Your body tingles as Argenti nears. He smells exactly as how you remembered him, how he smelled of flowers and vanilla- Your image flickers for the briefest of moments, but you desperately hoped Argenti didn’t notice. If you could just make it through this visit without much incident, you would be happy.
“Friend, are you alright?” Argenti asks, a frown on his face. “You just seem so jittery. Have you fallen ill?”
You quickly shake your head. “Well, yes, but i-it’s not so serious. Just a bit of a weak spell, that’s all. Tell me about you though!” You lean it with a grin. “I’ve been wondering what you were doing while we were separated.”
So Argenti regards you with tales of adventure- How he narrowly managed to escape the jaws of death from a Sting. You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to him until you feel his hand touching your face. How lucky you were, that Argenti seemed to always be wearing his armor, else he would have felt how hard your “skin” seemed to be.
“O-Oh. Sorry, I’ll-“
What you were about to say was interrupted when Argenti leans in to place a kiss on your lips. You recoiled, looking at him with wide eyes and a blushing face. “Argenti?”
Instead of answering you, Argenti closes the distance, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m… You…” He panted. His cheeks seemed to be dyed in the same hue as his hair, the waterfall of crimson cascading over his shoulders and making you feel small. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Argenti mumbles, his eyes sweeping over your quivering frame. “But you… You’re beautiful.”
“Argenti-“
You whimper when Argenti starts grinding against you, the fabric of his pantaloons not doing much to hide the pressure behind them. He sighs out, eyes closed as he rut against the space between your legs.
“Argenti wait- The pheromones- Ah~ They must be making you a-act out.” You murmured, trying to get him to see reason. That must be why he suddenly kissed you- The pheromones you were emitting must have triggered a response in Argenti. You have to stop him before he does something he’ll regret- Or worse, see you in all your ugly glory…
But Argenti seems determined to hold you down. Vines grown from the floorboards and wrap around your body, twisting and curling until you were immobilized. A whine was drawn out of you when Argenti kisses your neck, your disguise faltering again. “Argenti-“
“My friend~” Argenti shakily gasped out, leaning back in order to undo your robe. Before you could say anything, Argenti peels off the only protection you have, unveiling your naked body to him. His eyes grow wide, taking in the sight of your human form dissipating into quantum particles and revealing your insectoid-self, your other pair of arms desperately holding onto him as you look away, ashamed.
“Please don’t stare… I know I’m ugly.”
Those words shake Argenti out his stupor. You watch with wide eyes as he strips himself of his armor and underclothes, tossing the items to the side, revealing his toned body to you. You let out an involuntary chitter at the sight, drinking in his physique before he pulls you up into his arms, his emerald eyes boring into yours. While standing, Argenti continues to grind against you, letting out tiny groans alongside your own.
“Don’t you dare call yourself that,” Argenti growls. The vines wrapped around your limbs restrict your movement, allowing him to position you above his length. Breath quickening, you attempt to fight off your instincts and sink down on his cock post-haste, instead resting your head on Argenti’s shoulders. “You are the most exquisite person I’ve ever seen. The way the light shines on your chitin, I swear you’re made of the most precious metal in the universe.”
Trembling in his hold, you let out heavy breaths as he pushes your hips down, slowly sinking you down on his cock. Argenti throws his head back, feeling your warmth immediately sucking him in as you continue your descent. You whimper, mandibles reaching out and tapping his jaw. “Argenti…” You sigh out, feeling your resolve waver as you fully sink down on his dick. You and Argenti breathe in each other’s presence, allowing for the both of you to adjust to numerous sensations floating through your bodies. Gritting his teeth, Argenti summons the strength to lift up your hips, noting how your warmth drenched him in a strange, purple liquid.
“Magnificent. Like… Like liquid amethyst.” He slurred, a hazy look on his face. His hips begin to pump up into your pussy, fucking whines and chitters from your mouth, your free set of arms gripping the couch for dear life. Every single thrust from Argenti felt like electricity running through your body, brushing against a specific spot that has you screeching out in pure lust. Emboldened by your reactions, Argenti takes to moving your hips up and down in tandem with his thrusts, intensifying his ministrations in a delirious craze. That sweet scent grows stronger as Argenti pistons into your cunt.
“Let’s have children together!” Argenti babbles. It takes your brain a moment to catch up to his words, but when you fully process them, you feel yourself gushing around Argenti’s cock, the purple liquid making his thighs sticky and shiny. You let out a cry as he roughly slams you down on his dick, filling your cunny with his release, white mixing with purple and tricking down in tiny drops. As Argenti takes a breather, you begin rolling your hips, making him whimper from the overstimulation. You don’t heed his tiredness, though. Planting your legs to the cushions of the couch, you began slowly riding Argenti’s cock, purring as you feel him throbbing against your walls.
When Argenti wakes up, he finds himself on the bed, his body sore. You sat at the edge of the bed, cradling three large eggs. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you feel Argenti wrap his arms around you.
“Argenti. Did I wake you?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He smiles, shaking his head.
“No, you didn’t. I just had the most wonderful sleep, in fact.” Argenti replied, kissing your cheek and laughing when he feels your mandibles tap against his face. His eyes wander towards the clutch of eggs in your arms. “May I…?” You enthusiastically nod in response. Argenti traces the shell of one of the eggs with a careful finger, noting how soft it was to the touch.
“I just laid these three a few minutes ago,” you explained, gazing at your clutch with loving eyes. “Your erm… Material managed to produce these three. The rest won’t hatch.” You look to Argenti once again. “Would you like to hold one?” Seeing Argenti nod, one of your hands scoop an egg and gently hand it over to Argenti, who holds it like he would a human baby.
“We made these precious gems.” He whispered in awe, catching sight of his reflection. “How long until they hatch?” He asked, making sure to keep his hold on the egg steady.
“I’m not sure,” you earnestly reply. “This is the first time I’ve uh. Coupled with someone. And the first time I might have children.” Your chitin gives off a faux flush of purple. “…Argenti, I must apologize. I realized that I may have taken advantage of you. You just wanted to visit me, but then you ended up fathering my first clutch. Hah… what a strange reunion between ‘friends,’ right?”
Argenti just smiles, leaning in to plan a kiss to your cheek. “I must also apologize then, for acting so foolhardy. But in my defense, you were just so… intoxicating. When I gazed upon your true appearance, I felt as if the Beauty had gifted me with something precious. And when you said that you were ugly, I supposed I wanted to show you that… I truly wanted you.”
“Ah, then…?” You leaned towards Argenti, careful to not jostle your eggs. “You wouldn’t be opposed to raising them together?”
“On my honor, I would never abandon our children.” Argenti affirms. “We shall raise them into strong, upstanding citizens of the universe! And no matter what…” He leans in, pressing his forehead to your own and closing his eyes. “I’ll protect you all. No matter what happens, I will take up my spear and fight against the Destruction if I have to.”
Months later, Argenti sheds tears as he holds your daughter while you encourage her brothers to emerge from their shells. He watches as you teach your children to shapeshift, hiding their monstrous forms and taking on human ones. However, he thinks they’re much cuter when they chirp for his attention, laughing as his daughter mimics his red hair.
OMAKE:
“It’s been a while since we last saw you, Mr. Argenti.” Welt politely greets, pouring the Knight a cup of tea.
“Yeah, we weren’t sure if you were still alive after that whole thing.” Stelle bluntly says, letting out an ‘ow’ when March elbows her.
“My apologies, friends. I have been very busy lately.” Argenti says. “I haven’t had much time to explore the cosmos, but Velite has been helping me in finding some work for the meantime.”
“What do you need to work for?” March asks. “Aren’t you a Knight of Beauty?”
“Well, my partner and I both agreed out duties as Knights would be on hold for the time being.” Argenti replies. “We want to ensure our children grow up in a stable environment, so that they may flourish as wonderful adults.”
“That’s nice- Wait, what?” Stelle looks at him with wide eyes. “You have kids now??”
“Indeed! Would you like to see their pictures?”
“…Holy crap, he does have kids.” March gaped. “Triplets, too. How old are they?”
“I’d say… nine months by now?”
“…Mr. Argenti, these children look to be toddler age.” Welt deadpans. Argenti laughs, taking his cup of tea.
“Well, they did recently hatch, so I understand the confusion.”
“Okay then.” Stelle hands Argenti his phone back.
It isn’t a few minutes later did Dan Heng finally speak.
“What do you mean they hatched?”
…Argenti just smiles.
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iluvmattsbeard · 2 days
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espresso 2 (m.s)
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master list
PART ONE!
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: mentions some sexual content but not crazy/swearing
preview: after that night Matt texts you saying he couldn’t get you off his mind, he repeatedly texted you everyday after that. he’s been begging for you guys to talk to each other in person. you agree and one thing led to another. leaving you confused with your feelings.
(IF YOU WANT TO BE ON MY TAG LIST, COMMENT ON MY MASTERLIST!)
a/n: here’s a part 2! - L 🤍
you wake up picking up your phone to see multiple texts from Matt. he was still pushing for answers after your response last night.
Matt
good morning Y/n!
i’m still curious about what you meant last night.
“is it that sweet?” what does that even mean?
you laugh to yourself while shaking your head.
Y/n
good morning Matt.
you’re going to keep bugging me about it huh?
your eyes widen as you see him instantly respond.
Matt
you know i am! you left me hanging.
Y/n
are you like on your phone anticipating my texts? how the fuck did you reply so fast?
Matt
like i said, you left me hanging. i deserve answers sweetheart.
you roll your eyes at the response, turning your phone off leaving him on read. you get up finally getting out of bed as you hear your phone buzz. you just ignore it and walk to the bathroom to start of your morning. when you were done, you walk back to your room to still hear buzzing. “Matt…” you groan to yourself. you pick up your phone to see not only texts but missed calls. another incoming call appears and you pick up. “what do you want Matt?” you ask standing with your one hand on your waist. “what ever happened to a hi or hello?” he says. “hi matt!” you say in a sarcastic enthusiastic tone. he chuckles before speaking, “sure i’ll take it.” “okay what do you want?” you say. you don’t know what encouraged him to all of the sudden blow up your phone. it’s been months since he ended things. “like i said last night, i miss you.” he says.
you stand there unamused by his response. “okay?” you say. “Y/n this is me trying.” he says. you let out a small laugh before responding, “try harder next time.” you hang up, going to his contact, muting his texts. you weren’t buying it honestly. you didn’t want to be one of the girls on his list even though you basically already were. you just continued your day ignoring all his messages.
that night, you decided to check his muted texts after getting ready for bed.
Matt
why did you hang up on me?
are you seriously going to ignore me?
hello Y/n? are you even getting these?
can you just PLEASE talk to me?
Y/n i can’t sleep like this.
texts after texts. it just kept going. did he really have nothing better to do? or is he really just good at keeping this act going?
after a few days, Matt has been constantly texting you still. he was still trying to get answers. he also has been sending you good morning and good night texts when you didn’t even ask for it. you woke up to him calling your phone as you place your hand on your face, with your eyes closed, while shaking your head before answering. “seriously Matt this is getting ridiculous.” you say tiredly. “good morning to you too. can you meet up with me today?”. he asks. you open your eyes as you look at the ceiling, “why should i?” you ask. “you should because i want to make things right with you. please just give it a chance and come over.” he pleads. “i can really smell the desperation through the phone.” you respond as you hear him laugh softly, “i’m trying here Y/n.” he says.
you think about it for a minute as he speaks up, “come on.” you shut your eyes sighing, “fine Matt. you better hope i don’t regret it.” you say hanging up. you instantly receive a text from him.
Matt
you wont regret it! 😊
you just shake your head while getting up to get ready for the long day ahead of you.
after you finish doing your makeup, you stare at yourself in the mirror sighing. “just give it a chance.” you whisper out. you walk out the bathroom door as you grab your car keys and phone heading out to your car. once you buckle in, you send him a text.
Y/n
on my way
Matt
be safe sweetheart
you smile a bit, stopping yourself as you realize. you put down your phone as you start to pull out your drive way. as you drive, you get a call from Madi. you answer as her voice goes through the speakers, “hey y/n! what you up to today?” should you tell her? i mean it’s only fair right? “you wouldn’t even believe it.” you mutter out as you stop at a red light. “what do you mean?” she asks confused. it stayed quiet a bit before she speaks up again, “don’t tell me you’re going to see him.” “how did you know?” you ask as the red light turns green. she responds, “i just got a text from Nick saying Matt told him you were on the way.” that blabber mouth. “he kept bugging me. i had no choice.” you say. Madi just sighs before responding, “you better know what you’re doing.” “trust me, i hope so.” you say pulling up in front of the triplets house.
you and Madi hang up as you text Matt saying you’re outside. as soon as you get out of the car, he immediately rushes outside. “hey y/n” he says with a smile. you shut your car door, locking it as you look at him, “hi matt.” you respond. you both walk inside the house as you greet Chris and Nick. Nick stares at you with a ‘what the fuck’ look. you just shrug and shake your head. Matt leads you to his room as you walk in sitting down on his bed. he shuts the door as he sits right next to you. he stares at you with admiration as you catch his eyes, “use your time wisely.” you say. “i’m glad you actually showed up.” he says with a smile. you just looked at him with a blank stare.
“i really miss you and i regret the way things played out.” he continues. you were looking into his eyes as you try to read his mind. was he being genuine? “you can regret all you want. you still aren’t proving to me why i should be here.” you respond. he sighs softly as he keeps eye contact with you, “i’m trying here Y/n. have my texts and calls meant nothing?” he says. “i see you’re trying but it still changes nothing that happened that night.” you say. “i know that but you can still try giving this a chance. a fresh start you know?” he says. you stare at him eventually looking away with no response. it stayed quiet for a bit before he speaks up, “what did you mean the night we started texting again?” you shake your head as you look at him, “you’re still on this?” you ask in a slight annoyance. he really won’t let it go. “of course i am. i still didn’t receive an answer.”
“what i meant was, my lips. are they that sweet that you miss them so much?” you ask as he lets a small smile appear on his face. “i don’t know is it?” he says making you shrug. “is it?” you respond. he shrugs before responding, “i don’t know it’s been a while. i need a refresher.” “so you’re telling me you’ve been over here saying you missed my everything but apparently don’t even remember the way i kiss?” you say with a blank stare. he just looks into your eyes as you both sat there. after a bit of silence, you felt yourself being pulled in by his gaze.
don’t do it Y/n. don’t give in you thought to yourself. “can i kiss you sweetheart?” he whispers looking deep into your eyes. with no surprise, you two were attached at the lips as he kissed you with anticipation. you can tell he’s been desperately waiting for this. your arms wrap around his neck as the kiss gets deeper. he runs his hands down to your waist as he smiles a bit between kisses. one thing led to another and you both ended up naked in his sheets. “fuck Y/n. i missed you so much.” he moans out as he pulls out and releases on your stomach. after he cleans you both up, you laid your head on his chest as he rubs your back. you both ended up drifting to sleep.
the next morning you open your eyes to see Matt’s arms wrapped around you. “shit.” you thought to yourself. you laid there as you stared at the snoring boy as you continue to think to yourself, “you are so stupid Y/n.” you try to sit up without waking him up. you pick up his arm softly, moving it off you. still sleeping, he turns around as he still has his eyes shut. you get up and start to put on your clothes quietly. you zip up your pants and look at him one last time. he looked so cute snuggled in the covers. you shake your head at the thought as you walk out the door slowly, closing the door behind you quietly.
as you walk out you were met with Nick. “what the fuck?!” he whisper yells. “what?” you ask quietly. “you slept with him?!” he again whisper yells. you sigh as you shake your head, “it was a mistake.” you say. he just shakes his head as well, “Y/n you know what he did to you.” he says as you nod slowly. “you’re right. i got to go before he wakes up.” you say heading out.
little did you know, Matt was awake when you left. he was laying on his side as he opens his eyes thinking to himself, “why would she just leave like that?” he was left there in his thoughts. he eventually got up and walks out his bedroom. he met eyes with Nick. Nick’s face was filled with disappointment. “did she say anything?” Matt asks. “nope she didn’t. you better get your shit together Matt. she’s my friend now. i don’t need you messing things up.” he says walking to his room. Matt just stands there sighing.
Matt
hey why’d you leave without saying anything?
you look at your phone and you shut it off after seeing the text. it was a mistake… right? he continued to call and text for the next few days. all you did was ignore him each time.
Matt
Y/n please answer me.
i’ve never felt this way before. it’s driving me crazy.
secretly, it was driving you crazy too. you still had the repeating thought in your head, “he had me but he took advantage of it.” but deep down you also wanted to trust his words. i mean he has been texting and calling like crazy… or was it desperation? your mind was flooded with thoughts. when you laid down in bed, you wrapped yourself with the blanket as you shut your eyes. even though you tried to sleep, you couldn’t. you forced your eyes shut as you see Matt’s face pop up in your mind. you open your eyes quickly as you sit up. you needed to get him off your mind but the next few nights, you were kept wide awake still at the thought of him.
Y/n’s POV
fuck off! don’t tell me i’m in this position now. it was just one time and i haven’t even texted him ever since. i’ve been up all night, every night, trying to get him off my mind and i just can’t. i pick up my phone as i see a few texts sent from him earlier.
Matt
like i said Y/n, it’s driving me crazy.
i know you be on your phone.
i literally just saw you text Nick.
my fingers hover above the keyboard as i bit my lip softly. “don’t do it Y/n…” i thought to yourself. of course, i didn’t take a while to cave in.
Y/n
i can’t sleep.
my eyes widen a bit as i see him reply quickly.
Matt
hey Y/n. what’s going on?
Y/n
these past few nights i haven’t been able to sleep.
Matt
what’s been on your mind sweetheart?
i hesitate before typing out what i’m about to send. i better not regret this.
Y/n
you’ve been on my mind.
you’ve been keeping me up all night.
every single fucking night now.
how fucking ironic huh?
Matt’s POV
i instantly grew a smile on my face as i see her recent text. i’m glad she finally came around.
Matt
me too Y/n. maybe it’s a sign!
Y/n
don’t get too excited.
i let out a small laugh at her response. i hover my fingers above the keyboard as i grin.
Matt
well, is it that sweet? lol 😊
i let out a laugh at my own text.
Y/n
i will literally press the block button Matt.
Matt
DON’T DO THAT
YOU KNOW I JUST HAD TO SAY IT
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a/n: I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS! was giggling to myself lol. - L 🤍 (let me know what you think!)
tags!
@jnkvivi @hesvoid34 @chrissturniolosbitch @ivonchetooo1239 @sturniolosarethebest @iwrites-things @TB101404 @sturnstvr
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gurugirl · 11 hours
Note
how is our hot tutor coming along? i know u said ur busy bestie but just so excited! maybe a sneak peek?
OUR HOT TUTOR 🤭 Well he's definitely coming along. I think I'm nearly 8k words into part 2 and it's nearly nearly done! But I'm about to come to a stopping point with writing today (there's dishes to do and a man and a dog to feed 🙄) so I'm still holding out hope it'll be ready for y'all tomorrow since I'm so close. I just need to finish it off and write what's in my head. Sometimes it take a bit to sort out the chaos that's up there lol!
But I'll offer you this small sneaky! Something to tide you over 👀 ENJOY!! (not proofread)
Context: Y/n is at a house party
. . .
You turned to make your way to the kitchen for a refill when you saw something that made your heart drop and your stomach bubble in gross shock. It was Harry Styles dancing slowly behind some cute girl, his arms wrapped around her front, leaning down to her shorter height and he was kissing the side of her neck.
Your Harry. The one who had you all gooey and giddy after that “session”. The one who kissed your neck not that long ago. You wished he was dancing behind you like that. You wished you hadn’t been so sensitive and that you could throw caution to the wind and not care that he was sleeping with others. You wished you could have just given in that night at the bar and gone back to his… But you said no to him. And now here he was with someone else.
You gulped and turned to go to the bathroom instead, Gunther still eyeing you up from the spot where you’d left him.
You stayed in the bathroom for a bit. Not wanting to go out and see Harry and the cute brunette dancing. You knew she was in for a treat later on. But that should have been you. Pouting at yourself in the mirror you felt ridiculous. You knew what it was with Harry. That he was a free and single man and could do as he pleased. You really had no right to feel upset over what you’d seen. He’d done nothing wrong.
Dumping out the last bit of your drink in the sink you figured maybe it was just time to leave. You didn’t want to have to deal with Gunther nor did you feel like seeing Harry all over someone else. Perhaps tonight was just not going to be your night.
As you opened the bathroom door a figure stood in the way and your immediate thought was that Gunther had followed you but as you trailed your eyes upward it was clear the man was taller and you didn’t miss the nail polish on his fingers when he gripped the door. Everything stopped. The music, the air around your body, your heart…
“Y/n…” That deep voice spoke your name like it belonged on his tongue.
You looked up at him, removing your hand from the doorknob, and gave him a confused smile, “Hi Harry. What are you doing?”
He seemed off. Not drunk but maybe not quite sober either? You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior as he pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom, closing it behind himself.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stepped in toward you, your bottom hitting the edge of the porcelain sink, “Nothing makes sense lately. Just want to go back to how things were but I can’t. S’like I’ve got some kind of block. Something’s missing…”
sex tutor!harry tags: @gem1712 @cherrylovers-world @sophthearthoe @jerseygirlinca @violet2022
@uniquellyme @bluesart13 @hypnotizedsturn @lomlolivia @brittanyzelazno
@megobrah @kissfromadove
@thereadefofsmut @hsonlyangelxo @triski73 @vashapnin
@sialexia @dirtytissuebox @softxhariana @psicostyles
@ghayda0 @palestudentcalzonepony
WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN??
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tamrielic · 2 days
Text
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pairing – scaramouche | wanderer × f!reader
fandom | media – genshin impact
word count – 4,659・AO3
summary – you’ve been avoiding him, and he needs to know why.
tags﹠warnings – smut・porn with plot・degradation・dirty talk・angst・hurt/comfort・fluff・scaramouche being scaramouche・scaramouche is his own warning honestly・vulnerable scaramouche・emotional reader・reader is very subtly implied to be plus-sized・reader has afab!genitalia
originally posted on – 11/07/2022
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author’s note (11/07/2022) – if you’d told me a month or so ago that i’d write an almost 5,000 word smutfic featuring scaramouche, i would’ve laughed in your face... but here we are! i dedicate this fic to one of my most beloved and beautiful besties, gen aka getousimp aka gixxie, because she’s absolutely amazing and is the #1 scaramouche fan!!! i really hope that i did him justice, and i hope y’all enjoy – this is only my second ever smutfic that i’ve written and/or posted online! ALSO – i wrote this entire thing before the archon quest that features him (archon quest interlude chapter: act iii – inversion of genesis) and before he was (finally) released as a playable character, so... his characterization is questionable!
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The smell of incense and the crackling of the fire in the large marble fireplace greet you as you step inside the mansion in the adepti teapot realm you call home, shutting the doors as quietly as possible behind you and releasing a soft sigh of relief when there is no noise to imply you’ve been heard.
Slowly, you make your way across the main area of the house to the room that was designated as the library and office, slipping inside silently and quickly sliding the doors shut behind you.
Inhaling deeply, you march over to the desk to begin sorting through the large pile of letters that had accumulated during your absence.
You’ve been traveling with Paimon, helping the Aranara in Sumeru and avoiding… well, avoiding multiple things. Searching for your brother, your various promises and responsibilities, and most importantly a certain short-tempered Anemo wielder.
Coming out of the haze of your thoughts, you notice the messy stack of books that had undoubtedly been made by some of your numerous guests and you huff as you grab them and go to put them away.
It wasn’t that Scaramouche had done anything wrong per se, it was more the issue of you being so naturally affectionate and showing it via physical touch and honest words… and worrying that it was becoming too much for him, or too annoying. Or both.
It hasn’t been that long since he’s joined your group of friends… only about two months, though could you honestly say that the two of you were friends?
He was so hot and cold, at times he was standoffish and rude, snapping at everyone and everything and it was during those times that you swore he hated you… but then the next time you’d come across him or have him join you while adventuring, he’d look at you with an unreadable expression and allow you to touch him without bristling, especially when you two were alone, and the back and forth of it confused you.
You’ve been oddly drawn to him ever since you had first met him in Inazuma, his voice sticking in your head and repeating his taunting words and the vision of him sauntering towards you with that insufferable smirk wouldn’t leave your mind…
In truth, your feelings have only gotten stronger as time had passed, especially after he’d reluctantly joined your adventuring team and you’d inevitably gotten to know him better.
If you are being honest, the sexual tension between you two could likely be cut with a knife and served on a platter… in addition to there being purer, deeper romantic feelings present.
It’s far too early to call it “love”, but it is certainly well on its way to becoming that dreaded word… on your end, at least.
You can feel your face heat up in response to the direction your thoughts have gone and as you shove the last book onto the bookshelf you lean forward and bonk your forehead against the hardwood in an effort to clear your mind.
In your distraction you haven’t noticed that the subject of your thoughts has snuck into the room and is moving towards you with purpose.
A pale hand suddenly slams down to grasp onto the shelf right behind you, the other hand gripping your waist and spinning you to face the intruder.
Purple eyes meet yours, anger making them almost burn from their intensity as he leans in so his face is mere inches away from yours.
Gasping, you shrank back against the bookshelf. “Scaramouche? What–?”
“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” He bites out, eyes narrowing slightly and the fingers at your waist twitching in what you assumed to be frustration.
Blinking at him while you try to gather your thoughts, you can’t help but notice that he isn’t wearing his usual amount of layers – just the tight black high-collared shirt and his shorts and sandals rather than his familiar complex ensemble – and your face heats at the realization that so much of his skin was now visible to you.
Swallowing to try and moisten your suddenly dry mouth, you’re sure that your face openly shows how flustered you are.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve been busy but I haven’t been–”
“Cut the bullshit. Do you think I’m an idiot? It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it, and it’s pissing me off,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he moves the hand that has been pinning you to the bookshelf to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of your nape.
Eyes widening at his actions and words, you clear your throat and square your shoulders.
“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Scaramouche, but–”
“Why are you calling me that?” He snaps, scowling at you with narrowed eyes.
“Calling you what? Your name?” You reply, eyes darting away from his prying gaze.
It was true that you haven’t necessarily been subtle, but you had assumed that he wouldn’t take much notice of the lack of attention and affection that he seemed to find barely tolerable – this vehement reaction was very unexpected and it was leaving you reeling.
He lets out an angry sigh before his fingers grasp your chin and force you to meet his eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands, eyes flickering over your face as his lips turn down into a slight pout.
Glancing down at his mouth, you unconsciously wet your lips and his gaze immediately hones in on it.
Gasping softly, your mouth gapes a bit in surprise as you observe how his burning purple eyes darken as he focuses on your mouth, leaning ever so slightly closer and tilting his head as if entranced.
“Scaram–mmph!”
Lips pressing to yours cut you off, a low groan escaping him when you immediately reciprocate.
Eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in, you bring your hands up to scratch your fingers through the coarse hair of his undercut.
Scaramouche growls then, shoving you up against the bookshelf as he presses as much of his body as he can to your own, the hand on your waist now groping at your soft skin.
Whimpering, your eyes shoot open and you tear your mouth from his to gasp for air as he starts roughly kissing down your jaw.
“Don’t lie, you were avoiding me. Because of this?” He whispers, lips and warm breath brushing the shell of your ear.
Exhaling with a whine, you nod before his lips press to your own again for a brief moment before he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip.
He smirks at your dumb expression, tugging you over to the table in the middle of the room and reminding you that he was much stronger than he looked by easily lifting you up to sit on the edge, pushing the letters off and out of the way.
Gasping indignantly, you open your mouth to reprimand him but he takes the opportunity to kiss you again, sliding his tongue in your mouth with a muffled groan.
You can’t help but to close your eyes as your tongue glides against his, feeling that insufferable smirk of his against your lips.
Sliding his hands down to your thighs, he roughly pulls them apart so he can step between them and press his body to yours once again.
He chuckles at your resulting moan, slowly pulling back and licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you.
Your eyes flutter open as you unconsciously follow after him to chase his lips, his smirk growing at your resulting frustrated pout.
“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” he teases, chuckling at your resulting scowl – but you didn’t deny it.
Before you could formulate a response, he grasps your hips and slides them towards him, making you yelp and slam your hands down on the table behind you to keep from collapsing.
Keeping his dark eyes locked with yours, he leans over you and slides his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tilting his head and tugging ever so slightly in question.
Biting your lip, you lift your hips in response, wiggling a little in impatience.
Inclining his head towards you, he pulls your pants off roughly and your arms give out as you collapse back down on the edge of the table, panting.
His hands tug at the hem of your shirt next as he bends over you, lips pressing bruising kisses to your neck as he slowly lifts it, fingertips tickling along the soft skin of your stomach.
Gasping, you reach between you and nudge his hands aside, practically tearing your shirt up and over your head to get rid of the offending garment.
“Eager, aren’t we?” He murmurs, chuckling lowly as he goes back to mouthing at your neck.
You whine and grab at his back as he bites down on your collarbone, his muscles flexing in response to the feeling of your fingernails digging into his skin as you jolt and cry out.
Groaning, he tears himself away from you to do a slow perusal of the skin that’s been bared to him.
You feel like you’re going to implode, the way his eyes manage to get even darker and his expression more severe in its blatant lust, and you jerk your hips up uncontrollably in response.
His eyes immediately flick down to where you’re soaked and burning for him and his throat bobs with a swallow before he looms over you, skimming his hand slowly down the curve of your waist before sliding a finger against the wetness of the fabric concealing you from him.
“Look at you, look at how wet you are – is this all for me?” He questions, voice gone rough from arousal.
Nodding and biting your lip, you can’t help but to grind up into his fingers.
“So needy,” he grunts, crouching down to nip at your inner thigh.
“Scara, I–!”
“Oh, we’re back to Scara now, hm?” He laughs harshly, making quick work of tugging your panties down and off your legs as he shakes his head at you.
“Scara, I’m sorry–!”
“You should be,” he interrupts you again, glaring up at you from between your legs.
You’re a desperate whimpering mess at this point, and you don’t manage to form a response before he runs his fingers up your inner thighs and jerks them open as much as your body will allow.
“Now be a good girl and say “please” and maybe I’ll give you what you want,“ he growls, brushing the tip a finger through your wetness.
“Please, Scara, I need you!” You whine, embarrassed at how needy you sound but also so turned on that you can’t bring yourself to care.
Smirking, he finally takes mercy on you and slowly slides a finger into you, eyes widening at the feel of your slick warmth.
You keen and writhe against the table when he slowly adds another finger and crooks them, expertly massaging a spot on your inner walls that makes you see stars and causes more heat to pool between your thighs.
“Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing! Your pretty pussy can barely handle my fingers – what a pathetic little thing you are,” he laughs mockingly, thrusting his fingers into you roughly.
Panting, you bite your lip and glance down to meet his eyes, silently begging him for more as your thighs tremble and your back arches.
Breath hitching at your desperation, he suddenly shoves his head between your thighs and licks a broad stroke through your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit before lightly grazing his teeth against it.
You wail, your walls contracting around his fingers as you feel like you’ve been hit by lightning as the tension snaps, little whines escaping you as your hips shudder and grind against his face.
Chuckling, he laps up your release as you ride out your high before getting up and looming over you, smirking at your fucked out expression.
“We’ve barely gotten started and already you’re being such a good little slut for me,” he murmurs, licking his lips suggestively when your eyes flutter open to blearily look at him.
You want to pinch yourself because you swear this has to be a dream, it is all happening so quickly and you’ve just had one of the best orgasms of your entire life but are somehow still so unbelievably horny for him.
His face is flushed and he still has some of your juices on his chin, but his eyes burn with the depth of his want for you as your gazes meet and he smirks, smug about having made you cum.
Glancing down and seeing the tented fabric of his shorts, you lift your still shaking legs to wrap around his waist and pull him into you, rolling your hips against his clothed cock and watching his face intently.
His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a strangled moan, back bowing and lips hovering over your own as he clutches at your hips and ruts into the warmth between your legs.
“Scara, I’m all yours – take me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull his head down to kiss him.
Jolting his head back just as your lips brush his, his eyes shoot open and he pants while looking at you incredulously.
You furrow your brows at his sudden change in attitude, your thumbs lightly brushing his cheekbones and you bite your lip, suddenly afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing.
After a moment of his eyes frantically scanning your expression – looking for what exactly, you weren’t sure – his hands slam down on either side of your head.
“Always so honest about your emotions,” he hisses, eyes becoming unreadable as he nips at your lips yet refuses to let you close the gap. “It’s really fucking infuriating, you know that?”
Huffing in exasperation to hide how his seemingly indignant response hurts your feelings, you glare up at him.
“Fine, then – can you just fuck me already, Kunikuzushi?”
He pulls back, smoldering eyes glaring into your own as he releases a shattered breath in response to you calling him that name.
“Oh, now you’re making demands of me?” He rasps, regaining his composure with a harsh thrust against your cunt.
Suddenly hit with a wave of irritation and frustration, you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to get him off of you.
“If you don’t want to, then nevermind,” you mutter, turning your head away to hide the “if you don’t want me” implied from your tone and expression.
Lunging to press your wrists down into the table above your head with one hand, he turns your head back towards him with the other, a deep scowl on his face.
“Why are you putting words into my mouth? What gives you the right to assume what I do or don’t want?”
You glare at him, trying to jerk your face out of his harsh grip which only makes his fingers dig into your jaw harder as he crowds you against the table with his body.
“Stop being such a fucking brat,” he growls as he presses quick, bruising kisses against your lips.
“Make me!” You snarl back at him, body writhing under his own.
He chuckles lowly before it morphs into him laughing loudly and mockingly as he observes your struggles.
“Gladly.”
Letting go of your face to swiftly pull down his shorts just enough to free his erection, he groans as he slides it between your folds.
“Fuck… this is my pussy, it belongs to me and only me, doesn’t it?”
Whimpering and nodding in response, your hands struggle to escape his grasp as you grind your hips against the tip of his cock, trying miserably to get it to catch in your soaking wet opening.
He shudders against you, grabbing your hip with his free hand to hold you still.
“No, no,” he chides, his signature smirk back on his lips. “Only good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a brat.”
“Scara, fuck, just take me!” You keen, so overwhelmed with frustration and pleasure that there are tears gathering in your eyes.
Scaramouche laughs, one that borders on a cackle, before he presses his lips against your temple.
“Are you crying? You want me that bad, huh? You’re so fucking pathetic, you did this to yourself you know,” he whispers roughly, tongue flicking out to run along the shell of your ear.
“But don’t worry, I’ll take pity on you.”
He suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out and leaving you a moaning and babbling mess as he holds himself still to allow you to adjust to his size.
“Oh Archons, please–!”
“Don’t pray to them, they can’t help you, pray to me,” he snarls, pulling out of you just enough for you to whine at the loss before roughly thrusting back inside and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Scara, Kuni, please – fuck – more, faster!”
He grants your request with a strangled moan, hips slamming into your own at such a desperate and brutal pace that you know there’s going to be bruises.
Leaning down so your foreheads are pressed together, you stare into each other’s eyes and pant as the sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the air.
The hand that has been keeping your wrists bound lets go, fingers instead curling into the sheets as he continues his merciless thrusts – eyes observing your every reaction hungrily.
“Kuni, feels s’good!” You sob, your now free arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your legs tightening around his hips.
“F-fuck!” He whimpers, cock twitching against your walls and hips stuttering against you.
Your body feels like it’s melting, fingers carding through his hair to shakily push it out of his face so you can view the way his brow furrows as he grits his teeth.
“Say it,” he commands shakily, jerking your face up so he can stare into your eyes. “Say that you’re mine. My slut, my whore, my everything.”
“Anything and everything that I am is yours, Kunikuzushi,” you choke out with a sob, following up your declaration by tilting your hips and pressing your lips to his, gliding your tongue in and tasting him as he groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock.
His thrusts grow even more frantic and deep and you roll your hips up to meet his movements, your sweaty bodies writhing together as you fully succumb to each other.
“I’m gonna paint your insides,” he gasps into your mouth, sliding a hand down to rub your swollen clit. “I’m gonna fill you up–!”
Those words and the added stimulation flood your body with overwhelming heat and you wail as you are thrown over the edge, gushing around his cock as he delivers one last powerful thrust before spilling into you with a choked moan.
His trembling body slumps over yours and he buries his head in your shoulder, gasping for air as your bodies continue to twitch with the aftershocks.
After a few moments pass, Scaramouche slowly peels himself away from you, his eyes darting away from your unintentionally open, loving gaze as he slowly slides out of you with a quiet grunt.
Sighing at the loss of him, you inelegantly scoot forward to hop off the table, squeezing your legs together to keep his cum from trickling down your legs.
He snatches the clothes from where they are strewn on the floor and puts his shorts back on before turning to you and holding out your panties and trousers with a blank expression.
Your face feels hot from embarrassment at how drastically his attitude has changed from just a few moments ago and you reach out to grab your clothing, eyes searching him for a sign of… anything, but finding him to be totally unreadable.
Mortified, you turn to the side and shake out your pants, the realization of what had just happened finally hitting you. You haven’t even fully undressed, too engrossed and desperate for each other that you just… went at it like animals in heat.
You don’t notice when he turns and goes to the desk in the corner to grab the box of tissues and bring it to you, clearing his throat as his eyes drift to where your combined fluids were beginning to slowly trickle down your inner thighs.
Flinching at being torn from your downward spiral of second-guessing everything that has happened within the past hour, you look up and slowly reach out to take the box from him, being careful to not brush your fingers together – you aren’t sure where his mind is at and you don’t want to scare him off by being clingy.
“Thank you,” you breathe, pulling his gaze back up to your face and flashing him a quick smile before you turn away to clean yourself up as much as you can.
He turns and walks over to stand in front of the window to give you privacy, which you find very amusing considering what you had just been doing, but you can’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he crosses his arms and seemingly becomes lost in though, his hair mussed and his lips still flushed from the plethora of bruising kisses.
Finding him attractive obviously wasn’t a new development, but it suddenly hits you with the beam of sunlight shining in through the window that was illuminating him just how… beautiful he is.
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts and hurrying to pull your clothes back on, you take a deep breath and summon all the courage you possess.
He turns to look at you as you come to stand next to him, and you were hit once again by how pretty he is; the slope of his nose, his eyelashes, his–
“What are you looking at?” His voice, still a little rough from your activities, snaps you out of your admiration and you blink at him.
He’s staring at you with his brow raised, lips ever so slightly turned down.
“So pretty,” you whisper, eyes widening in panic when you realize that you’ve spoken your inner thoughts aloud.
Scaramouche blinks at you in disbelief, processing your words before letting out a short, humorless laugh.
“I can’t believe it, I actually fucked you dumb!” He snickers, but the smirk on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.
You gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out how to respond to his dismissive attitude.
He grasps your chin in his hand, making the decision of closing your mouth for you, and rolls his eyes.
Grabbing the hand holding your chin, you place soft kisses on his palm, staring into his eyes and pleading for him to understand how truthful you’re being.
Scowling, he wrenches his hand away from you, taking a step back and shaking his head.
“Scara, we need to talk ab–”
“Do we? I disagree,” he snaps, turning and stalking towards the door.
“Kunikuzushi,” you whisper in desperation, and he freezes in place as he’s reaching for the door handle.
“This whole situation started because I was avoiding you, and it made you angry and upset. And yet you’re about to go and do the exact same thing to me. How is that fair?” You demand, voice shaking from all of the emotions you’re trying to keep in check.
He slowly turns to face you, eyes narrowing.
“Life isn’t fair – what do you want from me?”
It’s like you’re talking to a different person, the man in front of you is not the man that railed you into oblivion and ruined you for all others just a minute ago. This man reminds you of a feral cat – suspicious, mistrustful, insecure…
Your hands are shaking, the anxiety over bearing your heart to him causing you to hesitate briefly.
“What do you want from me?” You snap back. “Is this what you wanted? Just a quick fuck? Is that really all I am to you? Some poor, pathetic sap who’s attention and affection makes you feel good about yourself?”
Scaramouche stood there staring at you, unmoving and unblinking, for what felt like ages.
“Okay, you know what – nevermind! You’re free to go, but honestly at this point I almost hope that you just never come back,” you scoff, eyes watering, throwing your hands up in the air and turning away so he can’t see you cry and so you don’t have to look at his stupid perfect face anymore.
All you hear is a faint whisper of fabric before he spins you around and cups your face in his hands, his mouth pressing a desperate, bruising kiss to your lips.
Gasping, you put your hands on his chest and shove him back, your embarrassment making you feel fragile and hostile.
“That isn’t an answer, Scara, and I’m not a mind reader so I can’t–”
“Everything,” he rasps, closing his eyes and nudging his forehead against yours.
“... what?” You furrow your brow, confused.
“You asked what I wanted from you. I answered. Everything. I want everything from you. I want you to be mine,” he whispers, warm breath brushing your lips when he follows up his statement with a shaking sigh.
Your bottom lip trembles as you try to keep your voice from cracking with emotion.
“If I am yours, then you have to be mine. I want everything from you, too. I want to kiss you, touch you, hold you, love you.”
He inhales shakily, opening his eyes.
“If you can’t tell that I’m already yours, that I’ve been yours since you aimed that fucking smile of yours towards me, then you’re an absolute fucking idiot.”
“It’s kind of hard to tell when you’re always so wishy-washy on whether you tolerate me or not, Scaramouche,” you respond, blinking at him innocently, his sudden reveal of his feelings giving you courage.
“What did I say about calling me that?” He growls, stepping closer to press himself against you.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir – is Kunikuzushi acceptable then?” You simper, mimicking his usual smirk to the best of your ability.
His eyes widen and his cheeks and ears flush a faint pink as he grumbles, dropping his arms to wrap them around your waist.
“Keep it up and I’ll have to drag you to your bedroom and teach you a lesson, brat,” he growls, pressing his mouth to your ear.
You turn your head to press a kiss to his neck, grinning uncontrollably now as you both shift seamlessly back into the dynamic that had been created when he had gotten settled in your group – the usual snarky banter and the easy affection you give him comforting after the unsureness that was present just now.
“Is that a threat or a promise? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He huffs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to grasp your arm and drag you out of the room.
“Wait, what–?” You stammer, following him gracelessly.
“It seems that I still have to teach you some fucking manners, slut.”
Glancing back at you as he leads you through the door, the look in his eyes and his smirk makes your face heat.
“But you’ll be a good girl and cooperate with me, won’t you?”
You swallow, overwhelmed with all of the filthy thoughts that run through your mind before you shake your head to ground yourself.
It had required a lot of vulnerability and a rollercoaster of emotions, but you finally know your feelings are reciprocated… and as you let him take you to your room you realized that Scaramouche was about to show you just how much in long, excruciatingly wonderful detail.
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© kaeyaphile | tamrielic – please do not modify, repost, plagiarize and/or claim any of my work as your own and please do not promote any of my works on other social media platforms (tiktok, facebook, wattpad, etc.)
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sceebybeeby · 5 hours
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⚠️spoilers for the entire aj trilogy lol⚠️
is this even anything? don't answer if it isn't
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mothandpidgeon · 3 days
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While the Baby Sleeps (demon!Ezra x f!reader)
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pairing: demon!Ezra x f!reader (mom!reader)
rating: E! 18+!
wc: 2.6k
summary: The only way to get your baby to sleep through the night is making a deal with an unholy creature. But, of course, there are consequences...
tags: dark fic, Dub/non con (making a deal with a demon), breastfeeding, nursing, lactation kink, mommy kink? (but not like that), stretch marks, oral sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, horns, Ezra is a sex demon, moth never uses y/n
an: Here is my submission to #MothandBirdMothersDayChallenge! Actually this fic is the reason why I wanted to do this challenge. Sometimes when I'm in the dark nursery in the middle of the night, I have fun intrusive thoughts like 'What if there was a shadowy figure in the doorway?' To combat how terrifying that thought is, I took it and made it horny. Thank you @ezrasbirdie for betaing this, helping me do this Mother's Day Challenge, and all around being a cool auntie to my fics and baby Moth.
 ...
He wakes you every night. It doesn’t matter what you try. Your son hasn't let you have more than three consecutive hours of sleep since he was born. 
You’re at your wit’s end. 
Every time you look in the mirror you see a hollowed out version of yourself with dark bags under your eyes. You make yourself coffee without putting grounds into the filter. You fly into a tearful rage when you spill a bottle of precious milk. You don’t know who you are anymore. 
Tonight’s no different. You lift your crying baby from his crib. Rock him, shush him. You sit with him in the glider and try to nurse him back to sleep. It’s all done bleary-eyed, half asleep. Everything is these days. 
You’d give anything for this baby to sleep. 
Just as the thought crosses your mind, you look up to see a figure standing just outside the nursery. It’s shadowy against the dark of the hallway, shades of gray on black. From the height and broad shoulders, it could be a man. He stands abnormally still. Silent, watching. You think it’s just a trick of your sleep deprived mind until he moves just slightly and a patch of silver hair is caught in the moonlight. 
You must be dreaming because if there was a man in your baby’s room, you’d be terrified. And you’re not. You feel calm like you’re floating on steady waters. 
“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice drifts like a lullaby. 
He doesn’t respond, just leans in the doorway. All that you can make out is that blonde hair and two eyes that glint at you.
“I’ve come to help you, petal,” he finally says. His voice is warm and melodic.
You feel yourself nodding off for a moment. When you blink yourself awake, he’s by your side.
You can make out his features better now. Dark stubble covers a handsome face. The sharp angles of his nose and jaw are silhouetted in the dim. You smell woodsmoke and frankincense as he comes near. He kneels beside the chair and his brow furrows as he looks up at you.
“You need that child to rest,” he says. 
You nod pathetically. You can feel familiar tears well in your eyes. Hopeless, helpless. Desperate. 
“I can be of assistance,” he says. 
“Don’t hurt him,” you say, holding your son a bit closer to your chest.  Your baby might be torturing you in the night but you love him. You won’t let anything happen to him. Even though you’re sure you’re dreaming, you remember old fairy tales, creatures that try to trick and deceive. This man isn’t human, you know that somewhere deep inside you. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I won’t even touch him. It’s not the babe that’s piqued my interest. It’s his mother,” he explains. His obsidian eyes are on your lips, pink tongue darts out to lick his own. 
“Don’t hurt me either,” you say, though there’s no fight in your words. 
“That’s not my intention at all. Quite the opposite. You’re so beautiful, petal,” he coos, brushing his knuckles across your jawline. 
It must be a dream because you haven’t felt beautiful in a long time. Your body’s been stretched and broken, engorged and swollen. Your hair falls out by the handful. Your breasts reek of sweat and milk, a sickly funk. 
“I want you. Carnally,” he says.  
The growl in his voice makes warmth pool between your thighs. He looks at you like something divine, an awe over his features. His light touch moves down your neck and over your collarbone sending goosebumps over your skin. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel anything other than exhausted, touched in a way that isn’t a demand for food or comfort. 
“Let me have that and that boy will slumber like an angel,” he promises. He watches your baby suckling himself back to sleep.
It sounds so good. Suddenly the only thing you want more than a a night’s sleep is for this stranger to pleasure you, to be inside of you. You haven’t felt desire in just about as long as you haven’t slept. You’ve barely been able to shower and feed yourself let alone take care of your own needs.
“Put the child in his cot and go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll come for you and you’ll see,” he says.
“Who are you?” you ask again.
“I’m Ezra,” he whispers.
You wake up in your bed the next morning and you’ve slept like the dead.
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That strange dream haunts you but you think of it as nothing more than that. When you put your son down to sleep the next night, you don’t expect any miracles. He goes down easily enough, a nice little fluke, and you decide to turn in early yourself. 
Its nearly midnight when you wake up but you realize it’s quiet. The baby isn’t crying for you. You glance at the monitor and see that he’s sleeping soundly, sucking away at this pacifier. Just as Ezra promised. 
Relief floods your veins. You put your head back against the pillow and your eyes drift close. As you begin to return to sleep, there’s a shift in the bed and you catch that earthy scent again. You gasp when you see Ezra’s black eyes. He’s beside you, the pad of his thumb tracing the plump of your lower lip. His chest is a wide golden plane littered with white scars, dusted with dark hairs. 
“Hush, petal,” he says. “I’ve kept my promise. And now I’ve come to ravish you.”
You want to tell him that you’re tired. You finally have the opportunity to go back to sleep and you shouldn’t let anything come between you and that sweet rest. But the same, strong want that you felt the night before is calling you. An ache runs between your legs up to where Ezra’s hand glides over the delicate skin on your pulse. You're powerless to stop your own desire from sabotaging the one thing you’ve wanted.
A languid sigh leaves you as you melt into his touch. 
Ezra sucks at your neck. You’ll have a black and blue mark from his teeth but the sensation is so delicious, you can’t bring yourself to care. 
He opens your legs and notches his hips between yours. The friction of his hard cock against your panties makes your back arch. 
“I want to taste you,” he says. 
He rucks up the ratty old t-shirt that you sleep in along with the nursing bra that’s constantly saturated with leaking milk. He takes a long moment to savor the sight of you so exposed, a smile twitching on his lips. A long, low growl leaves him as he slithers down your body, gathering your breasts in his big hands and bringing his face to nuzzle in your skin.
You hear him inhale deeply, taking in your scent. The stubble of his cheek scratches at your sensitive flesh. One thick finger circles your peaked nipple nice and slow. Your body responds— a bead of milk seeps out and rolls down to the valley between your breasts.
Your breath catches at the mix of sensations. Your cheeks heat and you can’t help the embarrassment that creeps up your spine. Much to your surprise, Ezra’s eyes widen with interest. He lowers himself and  traces the wet trail with the flat of his tongue. You can only imagine what he tastes– the musk of your sweat beneath sweet milk. It seems that he likes it. He closes his lips around your nipple and lavishes it with his tongue, groaning into your flesh. 
“Shit,” you gasp. 
You feel the tingle of letdown behind your breasts, his ministrations summoning more milk. Soon Ezra is drinking from you, grunting and rutting his hips against you. The other, neglected nipple weeps milk and he pauses to lap it up greedily. You tangle your hand into his hair and that’s when you feel it. There’s a raised bump amidst his curls but it’s hard as bone. It sits just above his forehead and stands only an inch high. As your fingers rake through his hair, you find another. Horns.
The terror you expect never comes. He might be something ungodly and all you feel is a building excitement. Everything about this is wrong but the world feels upside down. 
He comes away, his plush bottom lip glistening with pearlescent milk. It’s a sight that should repulse you but in the delirium of sleeplessness and lust, it just makes you hungry.
“You are an exquisite creature,” he purrs. 
His flat palm skates down your belly where you’re middle still holds baby weight, a reminder that your body is no longer your own. He peels your panties down your thighs. You feel the fine edges of his teeth against your skin. He penetrates you with two exquisitely thick fingers. No warning but you hardly need it— you’re already slick. 
You keen, back arching off of the mattress, and the sensation is doubled when he puts his lips to your clit and sucks with the same enthusiasm he had at your breast. His wide shoulders spread your knees to make room for his body. You drown in pleasure, a heady mixture of fire doused in the thick pool of sleepiness. Floating, sinking, cresting on a wave as he licks and spreads you open, presses in deep and coils you tight. It’s hard to believe your body can have such strong responses when you’re barely function in your waking life. Something primal drives you on and Ezra knows just how to unlock it. 
“Such a delicacy. To sup on milk and cunt,” he says, barely taking his lips from you. 
The swirls and undulations of his tongue and the sweet pressure inside works you into a frenzy. Your breath shortens and then stops altogether, your thighs tighten and you hold your eyes shut, listening to the whimpers and moans between your legs. It’s too much and not enough. 
When you come undone, it’s a rush of ecstasy that you want to live in forever. Rolling and gushing and sighing. You choke and arch, your entire body convulsing. Your spine clenches up like you’ve been struck by lighting and the electricity runs out through your fingertips and toes. 
“Such a glorious vision,” he muses as you come down, panting and shivering. 
Ezra’s eyes are fixated on you, pupils blown so wide they’re nearly black. He looks like he wants to devour you. 
You share his hunger. You want more already. You’ve just had a feast and yet you’re starving again. 
You see Ezra’s cock now for the first time. Thick and upright, it’s tip, flushed and red. He takes it in his fist, glazing his shaft in your release. There’s something animalistic about it that floods you with another wave of arousal. 
“More,” you manage to say. 
“Not too tired?” he teases with a wicked smile. 
You shake your head. How can you sleep when your body is on fire with lust?
“I’ll fill each needy hole,” he says. 
You whine. He lines himself at your entrance. 
“You’re a goddess. And I’m going to defile you.”
You're filled to the hilt. The noise that escapes him is animalistic and his eyes lose focus. You’re already fluttering around him, already so close to another climax. He fucks you, the stretch and rhythm making you dizzy. 
“This is the closest I’ll get to heaven, I fear,” he revels. “But what could be more divine than this sweet cunt?”
Each word that falls from his lips seems to stroke at your core. His hips drive into you, hands greedily paw at every soft part of your body. 
The only thing that quiets his debauched ramblings is suckling at your breast. Your senses are completely overwhelmed. Tears prick in your eyes as your insides tighten, another orgasm shattering through you. You bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. 
“Let me hear,” he demands. “He won’t wake.”
And so you do, crying out as you clench around his thickness, losing all control of your body. 
“That’s it, petal. That’s it,” he says. 
He goes on thrusting and pins you down, torturing that exquisite spot deep inside of you over and over again. You’re not sure where one climax ends and another begins but you’re possessed. 
“If only I could fill that womb, sire one after the other to keep you round,” he grunts. 
Ezra swears. He hisses out words in a language you don’t recognize. It sounds like an incantation. 
You hardly have time to make sense of it. He’s pulling out of you, grinding his wet length against your thigh and spilling hot ropes onto your mound. 
You lay beneath him, boneless and dazed. The exhaustion flushes over your weak body. You sense Ezra at your breast again as your eyes drift closed. 
The next thing you know, your baby is crying and it’s morning. 
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It must be a dream. There’s no other way to explain it— a horned creature slipping in and out of your bedroom in the middle of the night, fucking you senseless when you have no energy left. But you wake up with come drying where he marked you. 
That night, he’s back again. 
And again after that. 
“Ezra, I’m exhausted," you breathe. "Please.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted, petal?”
Now your son sleeps soundly through the night while you are awake, debauched for hours without end. 
He’s insatiable and somehow you are, too. 
He fucks you until you’re raw. Your legs quiver and burn from being parted so wide. Your pussy feels battered and bruised. You beg him to fuck your ass just to give your cunt some rest. 
And although your body feels like it can’t take another second of pleasure, though it begs for a moment’s peace, every time he comes to you, you’re flooded with arousal. 
When you try to steal an afternoon nap, he’s there, cock already standing in his fist. 
Spittle dribbles from the corners of your lips as he fucks your mouth. It runs down your chest, your knees already bruised from the hours you’ve spent on them. You try to chase your own relief, grinding your hips against the floor. He pulls you by the ears to sink deeper down your throat. 
He grunts and moans and howls as he comes between your lips. 
He doesn’t always take. 
The next time he makes you come four times. 
“Again, again,” he chants into your ear. His words are hot breath as his fingers press inside of you overwhelming that ridge that sends you reeling. Your bodies are pressed together, sticky with perspiration and release and drool and milk. 
“I can’t,” you sob, your body sore and stretched to its limit. 
You’re so spent, so overstimulated, each orgasm takes more and more effort. But Ezra refuses to quit, punishing you until you reach a fearsome crescendo. 
“Oh, my petal, but I know you are more than capable.”
He’s right. You can feel the weak muscles in your core begin to twist. You hold your breath and focus on the brutal sensations Ezra gives you. 
“Besides, your ability is immaterial,” he goes on. “These were the terms of our deal. This cunt. Is. Mine.”
Despite the fact that you’re so exhausted you can barely remember your own name, hardly able to stand on your own two feel, the climax that hits you is just as monumental as the very first. 
“Have you endured enough tonight, petal?” he asks, sucking the gush of slick off of his fingers. 
“Please,” you whimper. “Please.”
You’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop or to keep going. 
“Tomorrow, petal,” he promises. “Now get some rest.”
He wakes you. Every night. 
...
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! My asks are always open and I don't bite (unless you're into that).
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mermaidgirl30 · 15 hours
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✨New Beginnings✨
Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷
Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.
Word Count: 2.9k
Rating: 18+ Only
Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur. 
   You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.
   So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.
   After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them. 
   You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.
   You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive. 
   You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again. 
   “You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”
   You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him. 
   “Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second. 
   Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers. 
   “Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face. 
   “I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel. 
   He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good. 
   He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate. 
   “Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight. 
   “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face. 
   Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?
   “It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.
   “Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?” 
   “Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”
   You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?
   “You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.
   “Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present. 
   “Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back. 
   “Yeah, I really have.”
   “That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin. 
   Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him. 
   “You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what. 
   “Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat. 
   “I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. 
   “Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun. 
   “Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”
   He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”
   Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly. 
   “Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”
   You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”
   He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”
   “Yeah,” you whisper out. 
   “Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”
   Darlin’.  He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest. 
   You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?
   He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand. 
   You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up. 
   He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”
   “Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be. 
   “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows. 
   “Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”
   “I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”
   He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”
   “Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”
   “Me too.” 
   You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him. 
   He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous. 
   “Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation. 
   “Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow. 
   He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”
   You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”
   “Great.” 
   You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel. 
   As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward. 
   “Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet. 
   “Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new. 
   You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”
   “Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly. 
   You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be. 
   Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response. 
   “Yeah, it really has…”
   Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”
   Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?” 
   He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”
   You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.
   “Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”
   You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”
   He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”
   Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”
   Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”
   And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another. 
   And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours. 
   This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it. 
   When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”
   “Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you. 
   “Thank you for staying.”
   He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”
   You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him. 
   Your forever. 
Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox
@orcasoul @thundermartini @solllaris @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @vie-is-punk
@hoeruiner @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @amyispxnk @morallyinept @milla-frenchy
@laramc-02
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(NSFW) Perfect Match - Tighnari x Fem!Tighnarian!Reader
A/N: Here's the third fem reader post for the few that happen to be on this blog. It's been some time since I last wrote a fic like this, but it's always nice to have a switch of perspective. As usual, and especially with this one as fem reader is not my forte, I'd really appreciate any thoughts and feedback you might have. Enjoy! CW: Tighnari is a little feral, reader and Tighnari go into heat, the usual smut.
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Tighnari is such a contrast. Daily, he's quiet, patient and gentle (unless the circumstances demand something more than words), but when the heat grows, he turns just a little bit feral with you. 
The reason? Simple - he loves you. Oh, yeah, and the hormones also play a part in melting his needy brain. 
You've been together for some time now and Tighnari's instincts gave you the tag of his mate and he acted accordingly long before really acknowledging this. And, speaking honestly, he doesn't mind acting a little instinctual as long as you're fine with it. 
Keeping you close and protecting you is what he is meant to do with you as his female. Tighnari frequently takes the initiative in simple, everyday matters. Need to get out of a crowd? He's already holding your hand and guiding you safely through the people to a quieter place. When cuddling in bed, he always shifts to be the big spoon, security your smaller, warm body in his hold, close - just as you should be. If there is any imminent danger, you'll quickly find yourself gently pushed back behind him by his arm.  
He'll get possessive at times too. When he notices any other male forest rangers eyeing you with the curiosity you've got accustomed too - ears and a tail as beautiful as yours draw attention, obviously - his hand will make its way to your hip and stay there. When it's the heat season, Tighnari will also get quite defensive with you. If anybody is as little as unkind to you, he will step in to get them off your back. With all this comes a little bit of obvious suspicion, but simple communication is always enough to ease his worries about any of the other men you’re colleagues or friends with. 
Does it all bother you? Oh, not at all! How could it when every inch of him just radiates this unexplainable male allure you can't get enough of? 
There's something fascinating about the way he carries himself that you can't quite explain. It's how decisive he is, it's in the unique tone of his voice, it's in his subtly dominant nature. Your eyes pick up seemingly trivial things that you can't help but marvel at. You love how strong he is, be that due to his Vision or just how he is - nothing makes you more excited than being picked up (and pinned down too!). He does this with such ease too…
Being a young hybrid, Tighnari has his needs that, if not satiated, make him grumpy and quite irritated. If you're not feeling like it, he'll understand - as any good partner should. Which doesn't mean he won't be disappointed, mind you. A horny Tighnari significantly increases your chances of stumbling upon him furiously stroking himself or hearing his needy moans in the night as he blows another unsatisfying load. 
Even though his hand was enough to keep his lust at bay, it was hardly satisfying. Luckily, the days of jerking the edge off are gone now. Why cum into a tissue when he can empty his balls inside you? Compared to his hand your fertile, warm and wet pussy feels like absolute heaven…
… And his fat, pulsating cock is the ideal extinguisher for the fire in your womb. Your hybrid nature leaves you just as prone to bursts of irresistible arousal as him. Your heat might be a single month at the start of the year, but living alongside a fellow tighnarian makes your brain buzz with hormones. 
Between the two of you, there's a simple rule - when you're horny, you fuck. He knows well that when his thoughts wander, there's no way of fighting them off. That's when he'll signal his needs to you. Looking at you with those smug bedroom eyes, for example, is a clear sign that Tighnari would like to see you on the bed head-down-ass-up in the immediate future. 
Usually, it's your smell that catches his attention. His sensitive nose can pick it up flawlessly each time. Your scent is gentle, with only the slightest hint of musk included in the mix. You'll find Tighnari cuddling especially tightly in the mornings or after physical activity when your pheromones are at their strongest. It won't take much time for his hands to wander and his cock to harden. 
His scent is the perfect moisturizer for your pussy, yes, but it's also a little bothersome. Because. It. Is. Everywhere. On the pillows, on the couch, on the chairs, inside every room from the bedroom down to even the closet. In the first two months of the year it's just straight up impossible to ignore it or distract yourself from your husband's pheromones. Sometimes you're wondering if your ancestors were idiotic enough to not breed by themselves,  forcing evolution into giving them this neuron activation upon catching a whiff of dick or pussy. 
For example, doing laundry is tricky to do without getting flustered or horny. Tighnari’s musk is, obviously, the strongest on his clothes. So whenever you pick up one of his shirts or boxers and your sensitive nose finds just how strong his smell is, you suddenly become flustered and very interested in what's under the pair he is wearing right now. 
Luckily for you, Tighnari is a good husband and will fuck his cute little wife senseless when she needs it, and you’re more than glad to return the favour when he is in need. It's a simple instinct. You're his mate, and he is yours. Your scents are impossible to ignore, sending the more primal parts of your brains a simple message - you're both young, beautiful, healthy and ready to breed. Around him, your pussy clenches at nothing, your womb longing to be filled with baby-making cum, and around you his balls ache from all the creamy, virile seed he is making for you. 
This awareness, awareness of you being ripe for the picking, makes you irresistible for him. 
Although Tighnari's cock might be average in size, what he lacks in length he makes up for in sex drive and pure ferocity. He can fuck fast and he can fuck hard. He won't be stopping himself from manhandling you - you'll surely be surprised by just how strong a male like him can be. Whatever playful resistance efforts you may make and regardless of how much force you put into them, Tighnari will just growl and pin you down every single time. 
Primal play always gets him hot and bothered. In bed, he's the natural lead. He's the hungry predator, and you're his cute little prey. Struggle all you can, but at the end there's no escape from a thorough breeding. His hybrid stamina lets him cum again and again with barely any downtime between powerful orgasms that fill your insides with warm cum. 
His go to position is prone bone. Having your smaller, feminine body pinned under his weight, your hands locked under his and your pretty mouth desperately biting the sheets as he forces his swollen knot in and out of you drives him positively feral. Doggy style is also quite fun. Grabbing your tail and pulling it away to reveal your tight little asshole and drenched pussy lips is extremely satisfying. Sometimes he grabs your head and pulls it back, thoroughly enjoying the sight of your long ears folding in submission. 
While he isn't too much into receiving oral, he won't ever pass up the opportunity to feast on your pussy. If you give him the chance to, you'll find Tighnari greedily lapping at your folds, drinking up your scent and arousal like a parched man. When you sit on his face, you'll have a nice view of his cock, swollen, twitchy and overflowing with precum, just waiting to nestle in between your warm lower lips. How can this sight make you anything but absolutely crazy for his dick? You'll often find yourself locked in a sixty-nine with both of you furiously licking each other with your rough tongues. If he couples it with a passionate fuck afterwards, you'll be lucky to have your pretty legs work in the morning. 
But it is in January and February when your lust really makes an appearance. These two months are usually taken out of the calendar for you two - being apart from each other during your heat after having tasted what having a mate feels like is torture. Not even the best toys can replace him - they won't ever mimic his warmth, his desperate and frustrated groans, his arms locking your body in place or his ears, trembling and folding from the pleasure as he breeds you. 
His instincts tell him to pump a litter or two into your womb, and he'll announce his needs to you, whether you decide to go through with it or not. A condom or a pill is an absolute must if you want to be safe - it's usually very difficult to keep yourself from letting the lust take full control. It's absolutely not because your pussy milks him and throbs so much, desperate to suck him in just that millimeter deeper and get absolutely pumped with his baby making milk and end up leg locking him. 
Mornings with Tighnari are always fun, regardless of the season. You'll sometimes wake up to the sensation of him rubbing his length along your ass, moaning your name softly into your ear and asking, begging to be let in. You usually let him - it's not like you're not guilty of blowing him awake either. Whoever is the “waker-up”, they can certainly expect a wonderful, lazy morning breeding.
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Thanks for reading!
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beskarandblasters · 2 days
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Small Discoveries
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: My entry for @morallyinept’s Flora and Fauna challenge! The graphic is by me and dividers are by @saradika-graphics 💐
Summary: You and Din enjoy the scenery of Naboo where you learn something new about him.
Word count: 717
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established relationship, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), takes place when Grogu is with Luke, very light angst, fluff, pet names (cyar’ika), no use of y/n
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You’re on Naboo with Din and it’s your first time visiting. He had to come here for a bounty and you decided to tag along. The planet’s in full bloom, teeming with flowers on the streets and lining all of the windows. You’ve heard this planet is famous for its natural landscape- specifically its rolling hills. And you’re dying to see them.  
But for now, you’re stuck in the Razor Crest, waiting for Din to return from his job. You’re sitting in the cockpit, watching the clouds roll along above you. You’re excited to enjoy a little slice-of-life moment with him for once. Ever since Grogu left to train with the Jedi, he’s been working himself to the bone, taking bounty after bounty to distract from the pain. 
You hear the exit ramp lowering and climb down from the cockpit, watching as Din schleps the bounty inside. He’s already knocked unconscious but Din shoves him in the carbonite freezer anyway, sighing once he’s done dragging such a heavy load. 
Once the bounty is secured in the carbonite you ask Din, “Care for a little sightseeing?” with wide eyes and a sweet smile, hoping he’ll say yes. He knows you’ve been so excited to come here. 
“Anything for you, cyar’ika. What would you like to see?” he says, softening up and wrapping an arm around your waist. 
“The fields.” 
“Let’s go.”
He leads you down the ramp, sealing the Crest behind you two. He’s docked on the outskirts of Theed so the fields aren’t far. And soon enough, you’re met with the scenic views of majestic hills. Mountains loom in the background and the sun peeks through the clouds. The breeze gently shakes the grass and… the wildflowers. Maker, they’re beautiful, in all different colors. 
You can’t help yourself. You start running down the hill, letting the wind kiss your skin. 
“Wait!” Din shouts behind you. 
You turn and watch him barrel down the hill after you. But he’s not as graceful. Because he trips and lands on a rock, falling helmet first. A gasp escapes your lips. Your first instinct is to run over to him but once he hit the ground his helmet flew off. 
You run over to him, picking up his helmet that skidded towards you while simultaneously trying not to look at his face. You keep your eyes averted to the ground and walk over to him but just as you’re handing him his helmet, he sneezes. 
“I don’t… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sneeze before.”
Instead of responding, he sneezes again. And again. And again. 
“I think… I’m allergic to the flowers,” he sniffles. 
You can’t help but laugh. 
“What? It’s not funny,” he says. You imagine he’s pouting. He puts on his helmet and his modulated voice returns. “Much better.”
“So you’re allergic to flowers and I heard you sneeze for the first time… Does the helmet normally drown out the sneezes?” you say, looking at him. He’s sitting in the grass, legs straight out in front of him with his hands flat on their palms behind him. 
“Yes, but normally I don’t have to sneeze. The helmet blocks out most irritants.”
“Hm. You learn something new every day.”
You sit down next to him and lean on his shoulder, admiring the beauty around you. It’s silent between you two but for once it’s not comfortable. It feels natural. Your mind wanders to what life was like before Grogu left, how happy the three of you were before. You think about bringing Grogu here and how much he’d love the flowers. You reach out and pick one, smelling it and being sure not to mention Grogu. It’s a sensitive topic for Din and rightfully so. 
But then he surprises you again, for the third time today. 
“I bet the kid would like it here.”
You look over at him and he meets your gaze, the sunlight bouncing off his helmet as his cape billows in the wind. Your heart swells with love, happy that he’s finally enjoying himself for once.
“I bet he would,” you affirm, leaning against his shoulder.
“Thanks for putting up with me,” Din whispers. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“It’s no problem” you reassure him. “Thanks for taking me here.”
“Anything for you, cyar’ika.”
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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
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brutal-nemesis · 3 days
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E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony
I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)
Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)
←Previous - Masterlist
Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning
By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.
He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.
If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 
Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 
Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 
He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.
When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.
If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.
Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.
Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 
Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-
Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.
One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.
Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 
It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.
Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.
It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.
Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.
Wait…breeze?
The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 
Breathing. It was breathing.
If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 
Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 
But…where was his sword?
He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.
His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.
There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.
He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 
Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 
Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 
His empty stomach started to growl.
This was a demon. Not a person.
He hadn’t eaten in over a day.
No one would ever know.
He needed energy.
Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.
Just a little bit. 
It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.
What…what had he just done?
How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 
He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 
He had to get out of here. 
The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.
A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.
Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.
All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…
The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 
Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.
Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 
After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.
He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 
The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 
It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…
“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”
Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.
It was Shiori.
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winwintea · 2 days
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secure that card! 04. refund date
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Chenle couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful as he watched you limp out of your dorm building in crutches. 
“Hey” He waved, as he rolled down the window.
You gave him a sideways glance, looking at his 2024 Mercedez GLE63, and then back at him, “A little help, please?” 
His expression hardened, as he quickly scurried out of the car, running around to grab the designer bags from your hands. You hoisted yourself into the passenger seat, and he laid your crutches and bags on the backseat. 
When Chenle started driving, you decided to make small conversation. “I’m, sure you’ve read my hospital records but let’s pretend like that never happened. I’m Y/n L/n. Nice to meet you.” “Zhong Chenle.” He smiled, still looking at the road. “Sorry for running into you.” Your face relaxed a bit as you shifted into the seat, slumping your head back, “It was my fault anyways. I should’ve been looking for cars when recklessly crossing the street.” you added, sighing, “My boyfriend had just broken up with me, right before the accident. Wasn’t really thinking clearly.” “Boyfriend…?” Chenle asked curiously, eagerly listening to you speak. 
“Oh yeah.” You gave him a helpless smile, as the mood started to turn a little sour.
Chenle picked up on this, and he didn’t want to lose this perfect opportunity to get you to open up more, so he tried to crack a light joke, “Honestly I’m just glad you didn’t sue me.” He ran a couple of fingers through his hair before turning to look at you for the first time since he had started driving.
“Are you kidding? You paid for my medical bills. That’s more than I needed.” He chuckled, continuing to focus on the road again, “It was the least I could do for you. And now you won’t even accept the other gifts.”
Before you could answer, Chenle quickly changed the subject, “So how long have you been here?” You looked at him curiously, wondering about the sudden change of subject, “Do you mean on campus? Or like in general.” He realized that the question was phrased in a weird way, and corrected himself, “Well I’m from Shanghai, so i’m not a native here. However, you seem to have no accent, so I can merely assume you’re from the US? Am I correct?” “Oh!” You smiled, and Chenle seemed to notice some sparks of light reflected by the sun that seemed to lit up from your eyes. It made you seem even more beautiful. “Born & raised here. Live laugh love.” You sighed again, resting your head on the headrest. You two were almost at the mall, already pulling into the parking lot. “It must be hard to live away from home.” “Actually, it’s quite nice. Living abroad is a fun challenge.” Chenle wondered how the conversation had suddenly turned on him. At least he knew now that you were in fact a US citizen, which was key to his task. Now for step two: How to win you over?
“I’ve never heard anyone describe it as 'fun'.” you looked at him, puzzled. “Well…” He took a breath, steering the car into a parking spot. “I’m glad to be the first.”
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SUMMARY ▸ zhong chenle is the owner of many cards. a black card? he owns that. he even has a stanford student id card. the one card he doesn’t own though? a green card. and if chenle plays his cards right, he just may be able to secure one by wooing you. or it could all fall through… who knows?
TAG LIST ▸@marvelahsobx @lyvhie @odxrilove @jkslvsnella @aquaphoenixz @wonnieluv @acidwon @syatchy @sleepyvic @grassbutneo @chcnlcs @taeeflwrr
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thisapplepielife · 12 hours
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic May challenge.
A Room at the Top of the World Tonight
May Prompt: Top | Word Count: 510 | Rating: M | CW: Sex, But Not Very Explicit, Language | Tags: Eddie POV, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, Rockstar Eddie, Love, Just Love and Softness
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Scooting the soft, cushioned bench towards the window has its consequences, and Eddie learns them fast, as the movement jostles the hotel desk, and starts a chain reaction. The lamp comes unplugged from the wall, teetering, trying to hang on for dear life, but it's useless, and it crashes to the floor.
Leaving them in the dark.
Steve laughs, and Eddie says, "Well, shit."
"That'll cost you in a place like this," Steve says, but he reaches for Eddie as he says it, splaying his large hands along Eddie's bare sides, squeezing, and it'll be worth it. It's all worth it.
"I made at least a thousand bucks tonight, I can replace a lamp," Eddie teases, and Steve nuzzles his face against Eddie's neck. His stubble is rough, his five o'clock shadow having set in many, many hours ago by now.
It's late. It always is, after a show. 
And he's tired, but not too tired, because Steve is here tonight. Steve is here, and nothing else will ever matter more than that. Certainly not a broken lamp that he can afford to replace. Honestly, it's been a long time since he's been worried about what's in the bank. He's doing alright. 
He's doing way more than alright.
Because he's got a room at the top of the world tonight, made a thousand times better by Steve being in it.
Steve nudges Eddie forward until he falls onto his knees on the cushioned bench, his palms pressing into the windowpane, catching himself, smudging the glass, as he overlooks the city below.
"Look at where you are," Steve says, his voice in Eddie's ear, his head, his heart. 
And Eddie looks. Really looks.
At the lights. 
At the city.
And then he turns, and looks at Steve.
At Steve, always. The road keeps them apart, physically, at times. But he always feels the love. Knows it, deep in his bones. No questions. No worries. They're good. Solid. Built on a foundation so goddamn sturdy Eddie marvels at it sometimes.
At this thing he helped build. This relationship. This life.
This love.
Eddie knows he can reach out with his heart, and feel Steve's heart sending all that love right back.
So much love.
Steve smiles, and then does some maneuvering, some manhandling, until he has Eddie onto his ass on the seat, facing the window, Eddie's knees pressed against it.
And then Steve crawls on his lap.
"You keep looking," Steve says, and Eddie looks, as Steve touches him, holds him, takes him inside.
Loves him.
And it's a pretty view. But it's not the prettiest one in the room, and Eddie pulls back enough to meet Steve's eyes, looking deep in the eyes of love. 
"I love you," Steve says, up close. Grinding his hips down, slow, in no rush.
"And I love you so," Eddie answers, fingers pressed into Steve's back, into his skin, damp with sweat. It's perfect. It's always perfect, this high he gets, up here, on the precipice.
At the top. 
Where he ain't comin' down.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️
Inspired by this song by Tom Petty:
Which I listened to 17 times in a row. So, apparently it takes me nearly an hour and a half to write 510 words. I'm nothing but efficient, yo.
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