#man I still don't know how to tag this stuff and it barely counts as art but please just take it LOL

[wulfwynne]

[killerlookz]

Heartbeat | Joost Klein

description: Joost Klein x f! reader- In the months following reader and Joost's breakup, neither of you seem to be able to get rid of each other, not even when you've supposedly "moved on" to other people. (heavily inspired by the narrative in Heartbeat by Childish Gambino)

content: 18+ NSFW, cheating, toxic relationships, arguing, angst, some comfort?cigarettes, alcohol, questionable morals, just some mess mess messy stuff, semi-public "suggestive" behavior, fingering, unprotected PiV. This work contains RPF, and has been tagged as such do not click forward if that upsets you and do not share my work to other sites.

word count: 7634

An unlit cigarette hangs from your sticky, freshly glossed lips, your hands racing to tie the slippery satin ties of your dressing robe. A knock at the door draws you from where you stand in front of your bathroom to the front door. You flip over the locks before carefully turning the doorknob to open it.

A tiny smile forms on your lips as the door opens, revealing your boyfriend, staring down at you. Michael, a man nearly a decade your senior, eight and a half years older than you to be exact, a handsome business-type man who had moved to the Netherlands for work from the States, Boston specifically, though, he didn't have the accent. The pair of you had been casually dating for nearly four months now, though, you could sense that at any moment he'd ask to take things in a more serious direction.

You quickly remove the cigarette from your lips, balancing it between two fingers as you speak,

"Hi!" Your voice expressing greater enthusiasm than you were actually feeling, "You're early." You grit your teeth through the grin that spreads across your face, "I thought you weren't supposed to be coming for another hour."

"Good to see you too," He smiles back, but you can sense a hint of patronization in his words, "I figured, it was already getting kind of late, and I didn't see a problem with heading out a little early. I texted you anyways, but you never responded."

You nod, remembering that you had purposefully left your phone in the kitchen to rid yourself of any distractions while you were getting ready. While you suppose it was nice of him to let you know he'd becoming early, it would have been nicer if he asked first instead of just doing.

"Getting late," You force a fake chuckle, one that turns out more like a scoff, "The sun has barely set, who wants to go to the bar when it's still light outside?"

"Not everyone enjoys staying out until the crack of dawn." He raises his eyebrows, his voice serious in a way that makes you uneasy.

"It's Saturday!" You beam, "Come on, let loose a little." Michael wasn't exactly the party type- at least not now, it had taken a whole lot of convincing to even get him to go out with you and your friends tonight. "We're still going to have to wait anyways," you shrug, opening the door wider to allow him inside, "Julia won't be here for at least an hour, but you know her and being on time." You giggle awkwardly, unsure of what the two of you would do to fill the time while you finished getting ready.

"Right," He shakes his head before his brows furrow, "What's all over your face?"

Your facial expression contorts, confused, "Uh- makeup?"

"Oh pumpkin," He sighs, his voice like saccharin, exceptionally sweet and unimaginably fake. The pet name makes your stomach curdle, and you attempt to press a smile to your lips to hide the way you cringe, "I thought we talked about how I prefer to see you naturally."

You giggle, stunned at the fact he was bringing up this argument again, one you had had far too many times for how short of a while you had been seeing each other, "And I thought we talked about how much I hate it when you call me pumpkin."

"I just don't think you look any better with all that shit on your face, is it wrong of me to think that my girlfriend is beautiful?" There's an argumentative tone in the way he speaks, but you can't even focus on the potential fight that is brewing, not when the word girlfriend is ringing in your ears.

"No," You sigh, not wanting to argue not now, all the energy being knocked out of you with that simple word, "Do you want something to drink while I finish getting ready?"

"Yeah," He lets out a breath, slightly annoyed, "Yeah- sure what do you have?" He lets his tone return back to normal.

"Depends," You step backward, away from the man, towards the small kitchen of your apartment "Do you want something alcoholic or..." You trail off, stepping all the way into the kitchen.

Michael's eyes linger on you as he scratches at the back of his neck, "That's fine." He shakes his head, "Just get me a beer or something."

You nod, opening up the fridge, scowering around, unsure if you even had a beer in there. After pushing some things around, you'd found a singular bottle, you push your arm further into the cold to grab it.

You retreat back to the warmth of the rest of your kitchen, beer bottle in hand, as you kick it closed, both hands now preoccupied as the unlit cigarette still rests between your fingers. Wordlessly, you place the bottle on the kitchen counter in front of where Michael is now sitting before stepping back to search for a bottle opener.

From the corner of your eye you can see your phone light up, resting right where you had left it on the counter before you had begun to get ready. Thinking perhaps Julia was letting you know she was on her way or even worse that she was here now, you quickly shuffle over to it

Upon looking down at the screen you quickly realize it is not Julia who had texted you or any of your other friends who you had intended on seeing tonight.

Joost: It's been a while, what are you doing tonight? Come over?

The simple messages nearly make you choke on your breath as your eyes quickly flick up toward Michael. Joost was just about Michael's complete opposite- he was something exciting, the type of person where you could never guess their next move, no routine, no planning, no nothing- just go go go. Perhaps that discrepancy could be attributed to the fact that, unlike Michael, Joost had only been older than you by a year, his 24th birthday approaching in the fall. Still, even at Joost's age, you couldn't imagine Michael being much fun.

Unfortunately for you, you had let yourself indulge in the excitement that Joost brought to your life in entirely self-destructive ways. Joost had been one of the first people you had met when you moved to the Netherlands, and things moved quick between the two of you, from the moment you met it had felt like you had known him your whole life. Within a few months of living in a brand new country, you had already found yourself with a boyfriend, having rushed way too quickly into a relationship with Joost, and you quickly learned that no matter how much it had felt like you two had known each other your whole lives, the truth was you didn't really know him.

It was a true whirlwind romance, taking your life by storm, every moment consumed by each other. You both had fallen hard and fast. But for as hard as you had fallen, you crashed much harder. Joost was a perfect boyfriend in every area except for the ones that really mattered. It was obvious how completely in love with you he was, he was soft, and romantic, and fucked you in ways that made you feel things you didn't even know were possible.

But for all of his good, for all of his sweet gestures and affection, he couldn't seem to crack the communication thing. At first, you didn't mind when he skirted around the little issues that arose between the two of you, you knew he had things rough growing up and so you gave him grace, figuring opening up to people and dealing with certain emotions was probably difficult for him. But soon enough the "little issues" were not so little, turning into large, glaring problems in your relationship that no matter how hard you had pleaded for him to, Joost would refuse to discuss. Eventually, it had gotten too much, the two of you constantly at each other's throats, and with Joost icing you out whenever things got rough, you had had enough.

Still, you don't get rid of feelings like that so easily, and for the life of you, you could just not stay away from Joost. As hard as you tried to, you had never actually stopped seeing him despite the fact how much things had changed, things weren't quite so sweet and romantic anymore, but to be honest with yourself, if he fucked you good while the two of you were in love, he fucks you 10 times better when you hate each other's guts.

But maybe hate is too strong of a word, oddly enough feeling bad for Joost when you decide you're not going to respond to his text. At some point in the week, you had made the decision that with how imminent a serious relationship with Michael felt, it was probably high time for you to stop hooking up with your ex-boyfriend. It wasn't exactly a decision you were planning on alerting said ex-boyfriend of, no- that made it real, if you were to tell him you never wanted to see him again, it would become real, you were never going to see him again. Ghosting him seemed like the better option, simply leaving things open-ended, it at least allowed for you to change your mind- which you were deadset on not doing.

Michael's voice takes you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping away the message and turning your phone over.

"Hmm?" You hum, looking up, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

"A bottle opener?" He points to the cap of the drink you had set down in front of him. You throw a smile onto your face, nodding incessantly,

"Right!" You search through a drawer for a bottle opener before pushing it across the counter towards Michael. You continue to ruffle through the crowded junk drawer, looking for a lighter with no such luck. Feeling far too lazy to go rifle through your purse to find one, with the cigarette still in hand you walk over to the stove, turning the burner to its lowest setting, just enough for a small flame to erupt. Carefully, pinching the cigarette by its very end, you quickly stick it in the small flame, allowing it to light.

You shut the burner off, placing the cigarette to your lips, inhaling, allowing your lungs to fill with the warm, prickly smoke.

"Do you really need to do that in here?" Michael asks, his face forming into a scowl, "Or at all."

You turn to the side to exhale, careful not to blow the smoke in Michael's direction no matter how bad you want to.

"Relax," You smile, "The windows are open."

"Are you even allowed to smoke in here?"

"What are you, my landlord?" You furrow your eyebrows, taking another drag, "One cigarette won't get me kicked out."

"Can't say I'm enjoying your little miss attitude act tonight."

You're not in the mood to argue, simply sighing and forcing an apologetic look on your face, though you had felt like there was nothing to apologize for.

"Sorry," You mumble, "Let me just go finish getting ready."

The area that surrounds you is noisy, alive with all that the city's nightlife has to offer, almost overwhelmingly so. You lean against a wall, observing the swarm of people that inhabit the bar.

"You know," Your friend, Julia, pipes up from beside you, "You really shouldn't let him talk to you like that."

You bite at the insides of your cheeks, replaying the conversation shared between you and Michael just before entering the bar.

Stepping out of the car, your skirt had gotten pulled up quite a bit from having been sitting, your underwear almost on display as you climbed out of the backseat.

"Jesus," Michael scolded as he followed you out of the car, "Who are you showing off for?"

"Huh?" You whipped your head around, trying to ascertain if you had actually heard him right.

Michael leans over, his voice rough as he speaks into your ear,

"Pull your fucking skirt down, you look like you should be standing in the windows in De Wallen."

You clench your jaw, eyes flicking to Julia who was walking around the other side of the car, she shakes her head disapprovingly.

"What's so wrong with that? I'm sure the women in De Wallen are lovely ladies."

"I don't care how lovely they might be, I don't want my girlfriend walking around looking like a hooker."

You sigh, you know Julia is right, Michael was out of line, as he usually was. You stare the man down from where he stands by the bar, looking to squeeze in amongst the crowd that surrounds it in to order some drinks. Your face involuntarily twists into a grimace as you watch him pathetically try and fail to get the attention of the bartender. You want to go home.

"I just don't know why you keep him around." She shrugs, "I mean, I know he's got money and all, but I don't think it makes up for the fact that he has got to be the most stuck-up, grumpy man I have ever met in my life- seriously he's thirty, not seventy-five."

"I don't know," You furrow your eyebrows, "I guess he's stable and stuff- or whatever, you know?"

"Michael? Stable? The man that not thirty minutes ago all but called you a prostitute because your skirt got pulled up."

"I mean stable like he has a good job and stuff, he's normal, regimented, life with him has a routine- I think I need that, maybe he'll mellow me out, I don't know."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're far too young to be mellowed out," Julia pouts, "I mean, really, the party is just getting started for you." Julia's eyes suddenly widen, her lips parting as she speaks cautiously, "Speaking of party..."

"What?" Your eyes widen too, confused, you quickly whip your head around to look in the direction she's staring off in, "Shit." You mutter as your eyes meet the door, and there he is, Joost fucking Klein followed by a group of what looked to be about 5 of his friends. You barely manage to inhale, "I need a fucking cigarette."

Without looking back at Julia, you're making your way to the door, praying that neither Joost nor his friends see you on the way out.

The summer air hits you as you step through the exit onto the bustling city street. You wondered how mad everyone would be at you if you decided to leave right now- bail without a word, run home, and spend the night alone.

You grab at the purse that sits over your shoulder, pulling it down your arm so you can rummage through it, looking for your cigarettes and a lighter.

You flip open the cardboard box, removing a single cigarette, putting it between your lips before reaching back into your purse to fetch your lighter.

You flick the jagged metal of the lighter, the grooves digging into your thumb as you light the end of your cigarette. You toss the lighter back into your purse before slinging the bag back over your shoulder.

You're able to get a few drags in before you're interrupted by a voice, one that immediately makes your stomach sink.

"Ignoring me now, are we?" You don't even have to look, you already know- you'd recognize that voice anywhere, it's Joost.

You whip your head to the side, confirming your suspicions, seeing the slender frame of your ex-boyfriend hanging just outside the entrance of the bar.

"Stalking me now, are we?" You respond, hoping the snark in your voice masks everything else you are feeling.

"I'd hardly call showing up to the same bar stalking," He smirks, walking toward you, "But I mean- if you're into that sort of thing we can pretend I was."

You roll your eyes, taking a long drag of your cigarette, hoping for some sort of head rush from the nicotine.

Joost's features come better into focus as he nears closer to you, messy blonde hair spilling over his forehead, falling into his eyes, a piercing blue as he stares into you, a smirk lingering on his soft pink lips.

"Can I get a smoke?" He asks, innocently enough. You want to say no, so desperately you want to tell him to go away, to leave you alone, that you need to start a life without him.

"Oh-yeah, sure." A sheepish smile crosses your face, your words betraying you, unable to force out any sort of rejection towards him.

You let your already lit cigarette rest between your lips, taking your purse off your shoulders again, grabbing the cigarettes and lighter once more. You shove your hand, presenting the objects to Joost for him to take, his fingers carefully grazing the back of your hand as he does, his touch lingering on you for just a little too long as the two of you stare each other down. Shivers run down your spine, and your chest suddenly becomes tight, he was completely gorgeous- damn him.

"You okay?" He raises an eyebrow, a chuckle falling from his lips, he's not really asking sincerely. You can only hum in response, not wanting to say too much. Things were not usually this awkward between the two of you, and you could feel that you were the one causing it.

You watch intently as Joost lights his cigarette before pushing the pack into his pocket, and you make a mental note to yourself to get them back from him before you go back inside.

"So," He starts, exhaling a plume of grey smoke, "My place or yours tonight?"

"I'm going to my place, and you are going to yours." You respond, forcefully, annoyed at his insinuation that you would be sleeping with him tonight.

"Is that so?" He responds challengingly, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes." You nod, having none of his banter, "And-" You cut yourself off, debating if you even want to say what is about to come out of your mouth next. "I think we should stop this. Us, we need to stop."

"I've heard that one before," Joost chuckles.

"I'm being serious." You let your head fall to the side, "I can't keep seeing you."

Joost's face suddenly drops, understanding the weight of your words,

"What changed?" He scoffs, bewildered at your spontaneous proclamation, "Because if I recall correctly, just last week you were begging for me to come over."

"It's not fair to Michael," You shake your head, "I need to move on, we need to move on."

A grimace forms on Joost's face,

"You want to pull the good girlfriend act now?" His eyes widen, "As if cutting things off now will erase the past-what-four months?"

"I don't want to argue with you about this, Joost," You bite your lip, realizing just how unprepared you really were to cut things off with him, "I know I can't erase what happened, but I'd at least like to try to be better." Your lip quivers, and you clench your jaw, eyes fluttering as you fight back tears. You don't want to give him the chance to reply, you know with the right words he'd be able to talk you right back into bed with him, you can't let that happen.

You let your cigarette fall from your fingers, crushing it into the ground with the heel of your shoe.

"I'm sorry," You mutter, refusing to make eye contact with Joost as you brush past him, rushing back inside.

It was a miracle you had stayed out this late with everything that had occurred tonight, but there you were, still standing at the bar as the clock neared midnight, a feigned half-drunk smile pressed to your lips as you stared at Michael.

You tried to ignore the way Joost's eyes burned into you from across the room, but no matter what you did you could feel he was there, ever-present.

"What do you say to another round?" Julia smirks, leaning over the bar.

"Fine by me." You grin, anything to make tonight more bearable.

"Nuh-uh," Michael shakes his head, "You're cut off." He points directly at you, his finger almost in your face.

"What?" You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden controlling-ness

"You, you're cut off, you've had too much."

You furrow your eyebrows, you're not completely coherent, but you're absolutely nowhere near blackout.

"I had four drinks," You continue to giggle awkwardly, "Are you joking?"

His face stays stiff, he's serious.

"I don't think that's really your call to make." A smile lingers on your face as you attempt to keep the conversation light-hearted, but you can feel some sort of anger bubbling inside you.

"It is when I'm the one who's going to have to take care of you."

"It's one more drink, I think I'll be okay."

"Sure, one drink, which turns into two, and then three... you don't know how to control yourself, which is why I'm cutting you off." His voice begins to rise, and your eyes dart around the room anxiously, you hope the noise of the bar can drown out the argument that is brewing.

"I don't know how to control myself?" You scoff, "Is that really what you think of me?"

"You haven't exactly proven me any different, I've seen you, I know how you get on nights out, God forbid I don't want to have to deal with you sloppy and belligerent for the rest of the night." His words become harsher sounding, and more pointed as he continues to speak.

"What do you mean 'how I get'? I barely go out anymore because you don't like it, I would just like to let loose a little for once." You begin to match his tone, unable to hide your growing frustration.

"And you should thank me for that," His eyes narrow, "You don't need to be running around partying every weekend, acting like a complete fucking mess."

You clench your jaw, face forming a scowl, you can't believe the words leaving Michael's mouth right now,

"Don't curse at me." You mutter.

"No, I'll say whatever the fuck I want to, and maybe you should show me some respect for once, and listen."

"Oh!" You respond, a little too loud, drawing a few glances from the people who surround you, "You want to talk about respect? That's rich coming from the man who doesn't seem to respect any of my personal decisions, not the way I do my makeup, or how I dress, or when I want to go out, last time I checked, constantly berating your girlfriend isn't exactly respectful."

"Get a grip, y/n," He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, no shit I don't want my girlfriend parading herself around like some sort of fucking tramp."

It takes everything in you to not escalate things further, to not tell him what you had been doing behind his back, if he thought you were a tramp, oh you could show him tramp.

You inhale deeply, deciding to cut the conversation short before you say something you'll regret,

"I don't need this." You exhale, turn around, and head for the door.

The air is cooler than before when you step outside, now that it is later into the night. Immediately you're pulling your purse down your arm, desperately sifting around for your cigarettes, needing something anything to calm you down. Your mind races as your hand combs through your bag, unable to think straight, your mind foggy from all the arguing and the alcohol.

"Fuck," You mutter, Joost, he had your cigarettes. You run a hand through your hair, pulling at the strands, tonight had been a complete disaster.

"Looking for something." A teasing voice calls, resulting in a groan from you, it was like Joost had a sixth sense for when you thought about him, always showing up as soon as he crossed your mind.

"Can you just give them to me?" Exasperation heavy in your voice, wanting nothing more than to just have a smoke, and go home.

"What happened in there?" He asks, entirely ignoring your question.

"It's nothing," You shake your head, "Can I just have my cigarettes back so I can leave."

"Didn't look like nothing." He continues.

"Well, it was," You snap, your voice getting a little too loud for your own comfort, "I'm fine. Please, Joost just give me th-"

"You don't need to lie," He cuts you off, "You know you can tell me."

"It just," You pause, lifting your head to look Joost in the eyes, "It just doesn't concern you."

"But it concerns you," His voice suddenly much softer, "So I want to know."

A small smile tugs at your lips, despite everything you were feeling, your heart is slightly warmed at Joost's interest in what had happened.

"Stupid argument," You shake your head, looking back down at the ground, "That's all."

"Seems like every time you tell me about Michael it's about an argument you guys have had."

"Well, gloating about how great of a boyfriend I have doesn't exactly make for good conversation when I'm with the person I'm cheating on him with."

"Well, do you? Have a great boyfriend?" He pushes, but the two of you both know the answer. You bite the inside of your cheeks, bringing your gaze back up to Joost, who seems to be standing much closer to you now.

Your breathing starts to tremble under his intense gaze, the smell of his cologne is suddenly strong in your nose, nearly choking you. He's expecting an answer. But you can't give him one, you can't tell Joost that you didn't have a great boyfriend mere hours after telling Joost you didn't want to see him anymore because of said not-great boyfriend.

"Look," He sighs, "I know I wasn't the best, so maybe I can't talk, but Michael is just a straight-up dick."

His bluntness earns a small chuckle from you, he wasn't wrong.

"Well, I haven't exactly been the world's best girlfriend either." You shrug, any problem with Michael seemed incomparable to the fact that at the end of the day, you were the one cheating.

"You were to me." His tone contained a romance that you hadn't heard from him in a long time.

"Joost-" You choke, your eyes widening, unsure of where he was heading with this now. How were you ever going to get over him when he constantly crossed all the wires in your brain.

You feel your body go numb as he slides his hand to your waist, you should stop him, keep your promise, and never see him again- but you can't, and most importantly, you don't want to.

"Look, I'm not insinuating anything, if you don't want to see me anymore, that's okay, you don't owe me anything not after what you put up with, with me, but what I am saying, is you do owe it to yourself, to find someone who treats you better." His words are genuine, heartfelt, and he almost feels like the Joost you once knew, the Joost from when you two had first met.

There's nothing you can say in response, instead, you push yourself up on your toes, letting your lips meet Joost's in a soft kiss. Joost wastes no time in kissing you back, his hand now gripping your waist. Something feels different with this kiss, no looming sense of guilt hovering over you, it feels right like it's what you should be doing.

You part your lips, deepening the kiss, a small groan escaping you as you feel Joost's tongue brush past yours. Your movements become sloppy, lips lazily working against each other, each kiss filled with increasingly more passion.

Stunned, Joost pulls back from the kiss, a smile on his lips, now shiny from your lipgloss, "So," He breathes, "My place or yours?" It was exactly as you had thought, so easily, Joost was able to talk you back into bed with him.

"Mines closer." You shrug, your voice suddenly timid as you reach a thumb to Joost's lips, rubbing the traces of your lipliner off of them.

The car ride home feels like years, as the vehicle crawls down the city streets you figure you have probably gotten the slowest Uber driver in the entirety of Europe.

You sit in the middle seat, your arm brushing against Joost's, the proximity is comforting, but not quite enough, you want nothing more than to be all over him.

You trail a finger to the buckle of Joost's belt, lazily tracing over the letters engraved into the metal, Albino. The sudden remembrance of Joost's proximity to fame, even if only in the Netherlands, draws a smirk on your face as you think about all the horny fangirls who would probably die to be in your position now.

"What are you doing?" Joost asks, his words slow, teasing.

"Nothing," Feigned innocence in your voice as you let your palm rest just below the buckle of his belt. Joost clenches his jaw as you let your hand trail a little lower, pressing into the fabric of his jeans, his already-defined cheekbones poking out even farther with the way his muscles strain.

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" Joost's eyebrows raise, a smile pressed to his lips. He reaches a hand behind your head, first gripping at your hair before relaxing his fingers, soothingly scratching at the back of your head.

A hum of content vibrates through your lips, satisfied at what amount of power you had over him, even if it wasn't much.

You continue to press the heel of your palm against Joost's jeans, feeling the way they tighten as he begins to stiffen beneath you. Joost sucks in a breath, his free hand moving to rest on top of yours, he grips your fingers, pulling you off of him.

"You didn't like that?" You pout.

"Does it look like I didn't like it?" He grits his teeth. Your eyes wander down his figure, focusing on his lap, a now more prominent bulge in his jeans.

The car suddenly comes to a halt, forcing your gaze to the window- you were home, and now you're scrambling out of the car, unable to wait any longer to get your hands on Joost.

Joost pops his head back in the car for just a moment more,

"Dankje, fijne avond!" (Thanks, goodnight) He says quickly to the driver as you pull at his arm from outside the car, impatient. "God, woman," He chuckles, shutting the car door behind him, "I'm here!"

The climb up the three stories to get to your apartment is intermittent with sloppy kisses and lingering touches. As much as you desire to get to the privacy of your apartment, you can't keep yourself off of Joost, your hips pressed into his he has you pushed against a wall surrounding the staircase, his lips trailing down your neck, surely leaving little marks you wouldn't be able to explain away.

You card your hands through his hair, gripping at the messy blonde strands,

"Joost, please," A strained whisper crawls up your throat, your hips sputtering forward, begging for some friction, "My apartment."

Joost drops his hand from where it sits against your waist, grabbing your hand, and pulling you the rest of the way up the steps.

Anxious hands fumble with your keys as you try to push them into the lock of your door, a breath of relief as you hear the satisfying click of the correct key slotting perfectly into the small space.

Before you know it, you're pushed up against the back of the door, Joost's hands pinned on either side of you, caging you in with his body. Your own hands wander Joost's body, pulling at his shirt, gripping tightly to pull him closer as your lips collide. The way you kiss is rough, animalistic like you're completely starved for him.

Joost shoves a thigh between your legs, the rough denim of his jeans now brushing against the crotch of your panties. You can't help yourself, bucking your hips forward to push yourself further against his thigh. A small sigh leaves your lips as your cunt brushes against him, suddenly feeling your arousal, your movements made slippery.

Joost's hands make their way to your hips, his touch lingering as they slide to your thighs, grabbing at the hem of your skirt, and pulling it up. He drops his leg from where it's positioned between your thighs, his large, tattooed hand now cupping your heat. He presses the heel of his palm into your crotch, rubbing harshly through the flimsy fabric of your panties. His movements send jolts of electricity through your body, only making you crave him more as your arousal pools.

His fingertips push at your slit over what little clothes separate the two of you, teasing what you really want.

"Liefje," He smirks, pulling away from the kiss, "So wet for me I can feel it through your panties."

Your face grows hot, slightly ashamed at how quick you had become so aroused. Joost's fingers find themselves brushing at the seams of your underwear, hooking into the fabric ever-so-slightly. Your body grows tense as he teases you, his position making it seem like he's about to pull the delicate lace to the side, but he doesn't, his fingers, unmoving as he kisses at your jaw.

You can't take it, feeling so pent up that you might just explode, you knock Joost's hand from where it sits between your legs, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side yourself before pushing your fingers to your clit. You rub small circles to the delicate nerves, gasps leaving your mouth as pleasure rushes through you. You let your fingers dip lower, collecting your arousal on your fingers as they glide through your folds, towards your aching entrance.

Joost finally clocks what you're doing, his lips leaving your jaw, his hand reaching down to cover yours.

"So impatient," He purrs, his breath hot against your neck, reminding you of your proximity, "Here, let me help you."

With his own hand, Joost guides your fingers up and down your soaked pussy, before completely taking the work over himself, your hand now resting at your side as he continues.

With a single finger, he teases your hole, rubbing around it, threatening to dip his fingers in, you shove your hips forward, silently begging for it. He gets the memo, as much as he loves to feel you squirm below him, he loves pleasuring you so much more.

Before long he's pushing a second finger into you, a groan leaving your lips at the way you stretch around him. His thumb taps at your clit, sending extra pangs of pleasure through your body. You can do nothing but lean your head against the door behind you, lips parted with your jaw slack, in complete awe of how good Joost could make you feel with simply just his fingers. He knew his way around your body even better than you knew yourself, able to draw you to an orgasm much quicker than when you went solo. He knew just where to press, just where to rub to make you whine, and stutter filthy curses.

"What was that about never wanting to see me again?" He coos into your ear, and you pick up an almost wickedness in his voice.

"Fuck you," You sputter, voice strained from the magic his fingers are working against your cunt.

"Yeah," Joost sighs, "I'd bet you'd like to."

He's right, absolutely, completely right, and you're melting below him, turning to mush under his touch.

"Lucky for you, I'd love to fuck you too," He removes his fingers from your cunt, "And I don't think I can wait much longer."

Your pussy is left throbbing, feeling your heavy pulse between your thighs as you clench around nothing, aching from the lack of stimulation. Joost presses two fingers to his lips, shiny from your slick, enveloping them with his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of you on his tongue.

"So good," He mumbles as he pops his fingers from his mouth, "Now, c'mon." He's grabbing you by your wrist, pulling you to your bedroom.

You nearly stumble onto your bed, leaning face first on the edge of the mattress while your feet still rest on the ground below you, ass up.

Joost stands behind you, his hips pressed into your ass. You whine as his stiff cock brushes against your exposed cunt through the thick denim of his jeans. You can feel the cool metal of his belt buckle press into you as he leans forward, hands trailing up your torso as he kisses your shoulder blades.

You arch your back farther, looking for some friction, desperately trying to grind your cunt against him. Joost's hands linger on your body as he lets you search for some relief, helping you just a little by bucking his hips ever so slightly. He gropes at your tits, hands crawling into your shirt to get a better feel. He pinches the pebbled surface of your hardened nipples, making you squeal, his breath tickles your neck as he chuckles at your reaction.

Soon enough he removes his hands from you, and his hips no longer press into your thighs. You're impatient as you hear the clinging of his belt buckle. your pussy instinctively clenching as the sound meets your ears like you've been trained to know what's next. You hear a small sigh leave Joost's mouth followed by what sounds like him pulling his pants down, the belt once again clinging as it hits the floor. You peek behind you, biting your lip as you marvel at the sight before your eyes, Joost, naked from the waist down, his cock hard, tip throbbing an angry shade of red. He's gripping the bottom of his shirt, exposing the trail of blonde hair that leads to his pubic area. His shirt comes all the way off, leaving him entirely undressed behind you.

"See something you like, hm?" He asks, teasingly, noticing the way you stare at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

You can't even respond, not as he walks closer to you, your brain dizzy with the knowledge of what is about to come next. You return your gaze forward as Joost's hands find their way to your hips, fingertips gripping your flesh. You gasp as you feel the tip of his cock brush against your folds. You have to fight the urge to instinctively push back against him.

Joost continues to grind the shaft of his cock against your cunt, collecting your slick around its length. He pulls back a little, letting the head tease your entrance, about to push in before he stops himself,

"Wait." He breathes, "Turn around."

Slowly, you flip over, back pressed into the mattress while your legs still dangle off the sides. Joost nods, content as he steps between your legs.

"Take your shirt off, let me see those pretty tits." You obey, pulling the top over your head, suddenly very exposed as you had decided to forego a bra tonight. Goosebumps litter your skin as Joost slowly lowers onto his knees, he's quick about his movements, not taking time to linger or tease as he pulls both your skirt and your panties down the length of your legs. You raise your back to help him a little, lowering back onto the mattress once you feel the fabric hit your ankles. You kick off the heels you had been wearing, the pooled fabric following, now leaving you entirely exposed under Joost's lustful gaze.

He stands back up, gripping the backs of your thighs as he does so, guiding your legs up. You wrap your legs around his thighs, and Joost moves closer, his arms pinned on either side of you as his body hovers over your own. The new position allows you to move your legs to be wrapped around his hips, digging your ankles into his back to push him closer to you.

He presses a rough kiss to your jaw, an indicator of how hungry he was for you now.

"Ready for me," He mumbles into your skin.

"Mhm," You hum, "Please."

You can feel him smirk as his lips linger on your skin,

"So polite, anything for you, liefje," He coos, removing one hand from the side of you, balancing the entirety of his upper body weight on one forearm now.

He grips the base of his cock with his now free hand, messily guiding the tip through your folds before lining up with your entrance. He waits a moment before finally pushing into you, he's slow, careful. The two of you share a gasp as he slips inside of you, the way you stretch around him is familiar, but it never gets any less mind-numbing no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation.

Your fingers grip into his bicep as he slowly pushes into you at a painfully slow pace. A strangled groan leaves your mouth as he finally bottoms out. You relinquish some of your grip on his arm, fingers loosening as he begins to build up a steady pace, thrusting inside of you.

You let your head tip, and back arch, completely relaxing your body, allowing yourself to be entirely consumed by the pleasure Joost brought you.

Neither of you speak for a while, the loud moans that escape both of you were doing more than enough talking. For a split moment you feel bad for the neighbors, and you hope they aren't awake to hear you through the thin apartment walls. But, your thoughts are swiftly taken away from your acute guilt as you feel Joost slam into you, harder than before. Your eyes shut tight, a pathetic whimper crawling from your throat as the tip of his cock hits deep inside you.

"Joost," You gasp as his thrusts become more pointed, the bed rocking beneath you.

"Feels good, right?" His voice is rich with cockiness, "No one fucks you as good as I do?"

"No," You exhale, "No one," Your vision begins to blur, as pleasure completely overtakes you.

"That's right," He groans, "No one knows your body like I do."

He's right, and you're sure no one will ever know you in the way he does,

"Fuck," You swallow, "We're never going to be able to stop this, are we?" Your heartbeat increases as you come to the realization of how badly the two of you need each other- no matter how much it disturbs the other facets of your life.

"No," His fingertips dig into the naked flesh of your hips, "We were made for each other." The way he speaks is barely romantic, his low growl rather implying that the two of you were doomed to forever be intertwined in this unfortunate circumstance, the far of you far too flawed to be with anyone but each other.

You can feel your body tensing up, a pressure burning in your abdomen, threatening to explode at any moment. You screw your eyes shut, your face twisting up, all of the emotion of the night smacking into you as your orgasm approaches.

"So close," You wince the hot coil in your lower stomach about to crack.

"Want to feel you make a mess on me," Joost begs from behind a clenched jaw, "Come on," He urges.

It takes a few more thrusts for your orgasm to overtake you, but as it does, it's strong. What could just be about considered a scream passing through your throat as your legs start to shake, your body tingling.

"Love you," You slur, your brain too fuzzy to even be cognisant of the words as they leave your mouth, your subconscious speaking for you.

"Yeah?" Joost asks, his thrusts becoming sporadic, losing pace, "Say it again, tell me how much you love me, schatje."

"I love you," You whine, your entire body twitching as you lose all control over your reflexes, your climax now in charge, "Love you, love you so much." Your words become slower, jaw slacking as your orgasm rolls over you, reaching its final stages, your cunt spasming around Joost.

"I know," He sighs, his lips returning to your jaw. He's able to slip in and out of you much faster now, his cock covered in your release, his thrusts forcing strangled cries from you, "I know," He repeats, "Fucking love you too,"

His hips stutter, and a string of curses are grunted into your neck as Joost's own orgasm approaches.

You inhale sharply as you feel him begin to finish inside you, his cock twitching in your poor overstimulated cunt as the warmth of his release fills you. It's messy, the way he continues to thrust with as much force as he can muster as he rides out his high, cum spilling onto your inner thighs which each thrust, lewd wet sounds filling the air.

Soon enough Joost is collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy as he tries to collect himself. Your legs drop from hs waist, your entire body lazy.

A certain sense of guilt creeps into you as you realize Michael is right, you have no self-control, unable to give up the feeling that Joost gives you for anything else in the world. You'll forever be chasing the high he gives you, because Joost was right too, you were made for each other.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

If your taking requests at the time you get around to seeing this can we get some flirty Keegan? My man needs more love and I'm starving for more stuff with him. Maybe some downtime just cuddling and flirting and being relaxed with his s/o at home. Or perhaps some jealous Keegan, a night out and he doesn't like the way someone keeps eyeing his s/o. Your choice. ❤️

Gentle Worship

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: The days when Keegan was home were rare, but always cherished.

Word Count: 5.03k

Warning: Slightly suggestive, pure fluff

A/N: Since these two requests were pretty much the same I combined them, hope you two don't mind. (I'll just tag you, @angsty-microwave, so you'll know right away that I posted this). This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written...Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

His arm was wrapped around your waist, tight and gripping you like you would disappear if he let go. The sweeping sensation of his hand was spread over the skin of your abdomen, nestled under your large shirt, and a calloused thumb moves gently back and forth over any available flesh. Just above the swell of your opposite hip, which digs heavily into the mattress, fingers tighten as you shuffle slightly.

It was early – perhaps too early to be awake – but Keegan was nothing if not as constant as the morning birds who sing their songs outside the window every day. Cascading light was just beginning to crest into the shared apartment, rendering your sheer shades useless. 

The only upside to that cheap purchase was that it helped get you out of bed in the morning, even if it was only to find a blanket to throw over the curtain wrack. 

Your boyfriend’s bare chest expands over your back and a silent sigh rustles the strands of your hair. A nose is pressed into your neck, a soft nuzzle leaving the flesh of your lips twitching into a sleepy smile. It was rare you woke up with him still home, but quickly remembered this was his scheduled day of leave. 

“I know you’re awake,” Keegan’s voice blesses your ears, deep and layered with gravel. You wondered if he got any sleep last night; when you went to bed he wasn’t back from work yet. 

The man fixes his grip on you and pulls, and, unbelievably, you end up closer to him. The Ghost presses your form deeply into his body like you were a teddy bear and not a grown woman before he continues. You go willingly, of course, the sheets rippling like water around the two of you as you slide. There was no better space heater than Keegan, and when he touched you, your skin turned to malleable clay.

Smiling, your eyelids keep stubbornly closed as a kiss is pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt you had stolen, just by your shoulder blade. 

“How?” Your voice whispers, lips forming a smirk. How had he known you were awake? The answer was incredibly simple – you already knew it, in fact. But it was better when you heard it from him. 

Keegan grunts, legs intertwined with yours. Sluggish, his free hand goes to circle around under your neck, leeching onto your throat as you sleepily make a noise at the action – not surprised but more annoyed at the jostling of your head. He doesn’t apply pressure, simply grips you and curls his fingers to find that specific place. 

“Pulse,” He says, squeezing for a moment and feeling your heart rate spike before his hand drops like lead. Your face heats, lungs tighten. 

Stifling a small giggle, you bring your limp hand up and grab at Keegan’s digits. You intertwine your fingers with his and pull, flipping his hand over and bending his wrist to an angle so you can lay a quick kiss to the burn scar along his knuckles. 

He had gotten it shielding Ajax, another Ghost, from debris flying off a grenade blast a long time ago. The damage extended down his arm and ended at his elbow – he always said it was ugly, and from then on you had never gone a day without kissing it. Every part of him was damaged, but you had never seen someone as beautiful as Keegan. 

The Ghost shivers at the feeling of your lips, and his breath stills in reverence as you lay another. 

To think he knew you so well he could tell when you had awoken by a small uptick in your veins; hear your heart pulse back to consciousness with his ear pressed to your neck, curled around you so tight you didn’t need a blanket for warmth. 

The man thinks to himself that even if you were a thousand miles away he would always know how you were just because of how much he cared for you. Like some fucked up sixth sense. 

When Keegan was out in the field he often looked at his watch and knew exactly what you were up to – at seven you woke up, made the bed, and entered the kitchen at seven fifteen still in your pajamas. From then on you made breakfast, took a shower, and so on. He could be in a gunbattle with Federation soldiers and his mind would blank when he spies his timepiece.

She’s going on a walk right about now, The Ghost would blink, balaclava bunched over his nose and chin; he would snap back not a mere second later as if he was never distracted.

If anything those moments grounded him – reminded him of what he was going back to when the sting of gunpowder made his eyes burn and his blood thumped with adrenaline. They should have distracted him, made him sloppy, but the thought of you waiting for him turned his focus to razor-sharp. He’s never going to leave you waiting for him for too long, hoping beyond hope that he’s not dead somewhere. 

“Welcome home, Kee,” You whisper against the skin of his wrist, and the man seems to remember to breathe as his heart skips a beat in his ribcage, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Keegan hums, expression softening, and the grip on your hip moves back. His callouses leave goosebumps in their wake, scratching your skin so perfectly as they start a journey to the opposite side of your waist. Traveling, the limb tenses to roll you onto your back with practiced ease. Keegan moves slightly, and you half-open your eyes with a grunt of surprise only to be graced with the blurry view of his toned chest, ivory scars you love just as much as the rest of him on full display. Grey sweats sit loosely around his tapered waist, the string united and tickling your navel as Keegan shifts his weight to be above you, knees pushing your legs open. Slumping forward, his hands land right by your head, crimpling the pillow below you and bringing your adoring attention to his eyes. 

Gun metal blue, with flecks of pure iron near the center – usually hard and cold, they stay half-lidded and weighed down by the early morning; silken in a way only you knew. 

You loved his eyes, how they gave you so much so willingly. It was a feat that others could dream about but never attain as you had. 

Keegan’s black hair is ruffled, the longer bits sticking out in a way that reminded you of a black cat who had just gotten into a fight in the back alley. The rising sun caresses his sharp cheeks and makes playful shadows.

Gawking at him would be an understatement, but it wasn’t like the man wasn’t doing it back to you.

Your body was sagging with fatigue, eyes red at the corners and watery. The shirt that once belonged to Keegan was now claimed as your own, baggy and swamping the sleep shorts you wear as if they weren't even on you. But that wasn’t really a surprise anyways – the shorts were barely sizable enough to be considered attire. 

Keegan wouldn’t have it any other way.

His eyes travel the expanse of your visible throat, how it bobs as you swallow, tongue clicking; going down he grunts lowly as his gaze lands on your bare thighs and the way they spread nicely around his fitted body and allowed him to grip you where he saw fit. 

You were so small compared to him…different. Soft and good. There were times the man was confused as to how this relationship even worked as well as it did because of how starkly contrasted your worlds were. Keegan, when he was away, was silent – so silent people could go days without comment from him unless it was necessary to the mission, so how you got him talking to you at that bar was an utter mystery. 

She’s good, Keegan thinks to himself as he spaces out above you, hands near your head tightening into the pillowcase, Didn’t even realize it was too late ‘til she had me in bed with her.

Just as your body started to squirm with anticipation from how Keegan was admiring you with eyes that bleed lust, his weight suddenly drops on top of you without any warning. Going to press his lower body between your legs, your sleep shorts bunch at the skin of his waist; his arms snake under your shirt - groping at any skin available. You yelp as your eyes bulge but don’t say a word as the Ghost situates himself as a gigantic dog would. A quiet moment passes where you hear the birds outside the window, chirping away and calling to their mates, but then your chest jerks in raspy, delayed, laughter; face wrinkling as warmth floods around your all-encompassed body.  

You were all but disappearing under him like you were never there.

Keegan smirks from where his head is pressed into the crook of your neck, muttering, “Good to be back…Missed ya.’” 

“Hm,” You make the sound in the back of your throat, raising a hand to card your fingers through his hair, “Well, you better have. I made brownies yesterday.”

Itching at his scalp, the man releases a sound akin to a purr, and the grip on you tightens, shoving you down even further into the mattress. By now the sheets had been pressed to the far end of the bed, thrown into a pile you would have Keegan straighten out when he made the bed later. You continue your action on his head as the weighted blanket above you presses light kisses to your sleep-warm skin. 

Keegan pours himself into the action – knowing how to tell you everything without uttering a word. 

It wasn’t long before your eyes started fluttering again, a delicate sigh falling from your lips as Keegan’s nose slides up your pulse point to your sensitive ear. 

“Go back to sleep,” He says, voice so smooth it travels over you like rain and leaves you shivering, “It’s too early for you to be up yet.” 

“M’kay,” You mutter, knocking your head to the side so it lightly connects with his scalp, the strands itching your cheek. He chuckles from over you, and you feel it more than hear it, but nonetheless, it leaves a warm fire in your veins as your breath evens; your lungs suck in careful breaths. 

You don’t notice, but your hand stays pressing Keegan’s head into you, latched onto the ebony of his hair strands like a lifeline. His hands around your waist squeeze once before they fall stationary – pointedly staying still as his heart beats opposite yours. 

And then a slow, steady, silence. 

The birds chirp and the sun rises, but in the bedroom, two lovers fall into a gentle slumber that only they could achieve in each other's presence. A strange phenomenon, really, to find a man like Keegan so eager to disappear into a dream – he rarely had nice ones. But, one could suppose that when he was with you the bad dreams never plagued him as they did in No Man’s Land during extended Ops. 

Because he never uttered a peep as he, in a pure sleep, nuzzled his head deeper into your neck instinctually. 

—

The sun is noticeably more visible, no longer a deep red but rather a goldish-orange that makes it look like the curtains are on fire. There are shadows of flying birds passing by behind the glass, whizzing about to catch insects mid-air before zipping back to their nests; no doubt feeding hungry children. 

Groaning your fingers twitch under the cream-colored comforter pulled up to your chin, and your eyes blink open. There’s a moment where you wonder where the weight on your chest has gone before you realize the absence was much more than a force. 

Where did Keegan go? 

His weight was absent from over you, his defined muscles not heavy on your skin just the way you like. The disappearance of those rough hands carding over your body made you huff, nose scrunching in annoyance. Already you knew he wasn’t in the bedroom or the Master Bath. 

Keegan was always silent when he went about, but when he was home you always found him making more noise so he wouldn’t scare you – walking more heavily, closing the cabinets so they made a small thump, even whistling when coming into a room you were in. There were too many broken mugs in the garbage admittingly but, now, the numbers had all but halted. 

Sitting up, you rub at your eyes before yawning, stretching your arms above your head, and arching your back before feeling the chill of the air invade your now-shed cocoon. Goosebumps rise as you shift your body and throw your legs out, bare feet dancing just above the wooden floors. Before you were about to graze your toes a grating sound from the kitchen stalls you; freezing your body as it leans forward, hands by your hips.

With twitching ears, you look at the slightly ajar door, eyes wide as your head tilts. 

“Keegan?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“Kitchen!” Your boyfriend calls back, and the scraping of a cast-iron pan makes itself known to you. 

Smiling, you look down at the cold floor and come up with an idea to keep as much body heat as possible while also making it to your Lover in record time. Throwing off the remainder of the covers you bolt to the door like a deer, pushing it to the side and squealing as the chill begins to enter your bones. Bouncing, you dash down the hallway laughing with a wide smile before entering the joint living room and kitchen. 

You see Keegan’s bare broad back at the stove, defined build falling to a tapered waist that begs for your legs to be wrapped around it. He still wears those gray sweats, only held up by the swell of his hips. Keegan’s head tilts to the side, listening to your glee as his hand lowers the spatula to rest on the counter. 

What’s she up to this time? He wonders, face blank but eyes crinkling at the sound of your echoing laughter. Keegan loved your laugh – loved it even more when he realized it was only for him to keep.

Taking a step back from the eggs he’s cooking, the man is just about to turn around to see what’s going on, and why you’re running feet are pounding over the floor, but you’re already upon him.

Thumping up the two stairs that separate the kitchen and living room, you dodge the island counter with nimble feet and launch yourself at Keegan’s back. 

Grappling like a koala, the Ghost below you grunts in surprise as your arms wrap around his neck; legs over his waist and locking. Reeling back away from the heated stove top so no one gets burned, Keegan’s hands snap back to your scalp and to your thigh. His eyes widen as he whips his head to the side to stare at you. Shock lives in the deep pools of his iris’.

“What the hell are you–?!” 

Your laughter interrupts his loud exclamation and the boar of a man pauses under you, fingers at your thigh squeezing the flesh like you were going to fall off of him; as if your legs weren’t clasped around him for dear life. Keegan keeps eye contact, raising a brow in mute exasperation.

“You mind tellin’ me why you thought that was a good idea, Doll? One mistake and you would’ve sent me right into the stove.” 

You press your face into the back of his skull, cheeks heating with sheepishness as you nuzzle the strands of his hair, “...The floors were cold…”  

A moment of silence ensues, the sizzling of the eggs in the pan the only sound bouncing off the walls. The nothingness trickles before a jerking motion of the body you hold makes you bounce up and down, hands along your form tightening.

Keegan chuckles velvet-like, eyes crinkling at the edges as a small smile stretches his lips. You, in turn, giggle quietly into his skin, peeling your head back just a smidge to look him in the eye with a mischievous glint. The man turns his head back to the pan and releases the hand from the back of your head, going to grab the spatula with long fingers. His second stays on your thigh, lightly squeezing when you lean farther into his back. 

He shoves down the feelings of delight that your close contact gives him.

“Smells good,” You comment, chin going to rest on Keegan’s shoulder. It was a wonderful thing that your boyfriend was tall – you had a perfect view of everything below you so long as you used him like playground equipment, “I missed you cooking half-naked in the mornings. Gave me a good view and a meal…” Cheekily, you nudge his ear with your nose, “Sometimes both at the same time.” 

You hear the man huff, but the redness that blooms over his ears makes you smirk, half the grip around his neck moving to trail over his Adam's Apple; nails lightly dragging over the scars and burns over his pecks and upper body.

“Careful,” Keegan warns, but the gravel in his voice betrays his enjoyment. As well as the sly tone he takes.

“I am being careful,” You tease, drawing your hand back for stability when Keegan moves to grab the plates from inside the nearby cabinet, “If I was any more careful I’d be you.” 

“You’re makin’ it sound like an insult,” He distributes the eggs evenly, sending you a quick glance out of the side of his eye – the makeup of them back to that regular blank slate but still glazed with care – and raised a brow. 

You have to choke down the whimper in your throat when he stares at you like that.

“Well, how do I put this,” Looking to the side to hide your burning cheeks, you continue, “You’re the only person who could be you, attractively, Love. I think It would induce a heart attack if anyone else acted like you around me.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Civ?”

You laugh as Keegan jostles you, shaking his shoulder so you have to grip him tighter around the neck and waist. He scoffs, but a slight curl to his lips tells you everything you need to know. 

The damn bastard likes me hanging off him, You realize, Son of a Bitch. 

But you can’t help the way your pulse sings. 

Grabbing the filled plates, Keegan moves to the island with you still stuck to his back before striding smoothly to grab forks; carrying you like you weigh nothing to him. 

For a man like your boyfriend, you do weigh nothing. 

“Off you get,” Keegan mutters, turning around when he gets back to the island so your backside is just above the countertop, “Careful.”

You release your legs from around his waist, flinching lightly at the chill of the granite as your skin connects, and allow the man to turn around with your fingers still locked together behind his neck. 

“I think you’ve forgotten something,” You lift a brow in expectation, and watch Keegan tilt his head.

“Forgotten? I don’t forget things, Doll,” He says, but steps closer regardless, placing down the forks on the island with a clink before his large hands go to your waist, pressing heavily into the fabric of your shirt, “You’ve confused me with someone else. Hesh, probably.”

“Hmph,” You roll your eyes, “If I remember correctly you woke up first, so it’s your turn, Kee. And Hesh isn’t that bad at forgetting stuff – he remembers Riley’s birthday well enough.” Smirking, you puff out your chest. 

Keegan frowns down at you. 

The man’s grip rapidly travels to your back, forcing you right into him with a dig of his fingers and all you can do is gasp in retaliation. You feel his muscles move and writhe with the action, biceps bulging over your side as they shove into your flesh. 

“Hm,” Keegan grunts from above, and you feel his chest expand against yours because of it. He leans closer so that his breath hits your lips, and utters sarcastically as his eyes bore into you wide ones, “Alright. But only because my girl asked so nicely.”

Keegan moves his hand to grip your chin tight and angles your head up without hesitation, thick digits brushing your skin before his lips descend and encompass yours. 

All of it happened so suddenly that you barely had time to react before he was already groaning into your mouth, guiding your head to the side. Sighing through your nose, your eyes flutter shut as you both move together, and when you dig into the sensitive skin of his neck with your nails you let your teeth graze his plump flesh. 

Pulling at his bottom lip, you revel in the sensation of his palms sliding down your spine, going to tighten a hold over the band of your shorts at the small of your back. He opens his mouth for you, allowing your tongue to meet his own. A deep humming in his chest showed his pleasure.

Keegan could never fully describe how kissing you affected him – how it broke down his psyche to the bare essentials that he would use to make you feel good in turn. It was like trying to describe a drug trip, wanting more with a deep ache in his chest.

This really was the best way to wake up.

Grunting and pulling back for air, you pant as your nose twitches. The scent of the eggs was at your side, tempting your empty stomach like a Keegan was testing your willpower. Smirking when the man’s bitten lip comes into your field of view, your boyfriend moves and puts his forehead against yours. His eyes silently urge you to continue what you were doing moments ago, but you pause.

“I’m hungry,” You say simply, eyes sparkling as your heart bounces inside of you; lungs slowly gaining back the air that Keegan had stolen. Ever the overachiever, he doesn’t even look partially winded. 

The Ghost’s expression shifts, eyebrows turning in at your comment. He mutters, “I can take care of–” 

A finger snaps to his mouth, and you press until the skin bulges out at the sides. Chuckling, you catch Keegan’s fake pouting and less-than-amused expression and use your free hand to ruffle his hair. He scoffs, pulling his head away from your attacking grip.

“For eggs, Keegan Russ.” The man groans quietly, backing up a step, “You perv.” 

Your arms immediately gravitate to one of the forks and a plate, legs still handing off the counter limply.

“Tease,” Your boyfriend mutters before squeezing your thigh and going to grab the milk from the fridge. Smiling, you watch his back as he saunters away, chewing the food he had made for the both of you.

—

“Love?” You call from the living room, digging around in the drawer, fingers sliding over the old vinyl records, muttering the names under your breath before pausing, “Where’s My Way?”

“Frank Sinatra?” The man asks from the office where he was finishing up some reports from Elias. 

Usually, you would be annoyed by the Ghost leader for giving your boyfriend more work to do on his day off, but seeing as it was only a single file this time, you could stave off the fiery phone call to the Captain. 

It’s a good thing Elias’ nice, You think with a furrowed brow, Otherwise, I’d have no problem yelling at him. 

“...Third drawer to the right, fifth down just under Louis Armstrong.”

“Thanks!” Following Keegan’s instructions, your dig around and, sure enough, after passing What a Wonderful World you find the blue sleeve depicting Frank Sinatra’s face and smirk, “There you are, lovely,” Muttering, you close the drawer and carefully peel the vinyl out of the protective layering and walk over to the record player sitting on one of the side tables near the couch. 

Dropping the sleeve on the coffee table, you set everything up just right and place the needle in the groove carefully, making sure not to scratch it. Soon enough the catchy song is wafting out into the air, leaving you nodding your head along to the late ’60s tune. Humming, and feeling quite content, you turn to go and grab a book and wait for Keegan to be done with his work; your comfy pants and sweatshirt hugging you warmly along the way. 

“Thought you hated Sinatra?” Yelping, your heart stutters as your head snaps to the hallway opening, “Called him overrated, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Leaning against the wall, Keegan watches you closely, a black tank top on but still sporting those gray sweatpants. It was like he knew that you loved the way he looked in them. 

“You need a bell, Kee,” You force out a quick breath, frowning over at the man, “You know that? And I did not say I didn’t like Sinatra – that was The Beach Boys.” 

Keegan rolls his eyes but stays where he is, arms crossed as you still hum to the song under your breath. He looks at your clothes, freshly washed hair, and the way the light covers you like a shroud. You looked so simple like that…domestic…he calls the word forward to his mind. 

It was one he never thought he would use to describe a situation he was in – not even when before ODIN was fired over the Western United States. Domestic. Try as he could, being like that with you was far better than anything he had ever experienced. 

You brought him comfort that he would kill to keep. 

Suddenly, Keegan pushes off the wall just as you start to head over to the bookshelf. You had simply expected him to leave and go back to his office; finish those reports so the afternoon could be free. 

“Keegan?” You ask as he continues to stalk forward, your legs halting in turn, “What are you doing?” 

He stops right in front of you as the song meets the high point and his silent feet pause ahead of you. Looking at him strangely, you tilt your head and smile, slightly confused.

He has to finish work…why is he… 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Amusingly creasing your brow, you watch as Keegan tilts his head. He holds out a hand to you, beginning to smirk at the question.

Wasn’t it obvious? 

His eyes were burning again, littered with wells of silver and iron that gleam like stars when the warm light hits them. You’re reminded of a story you were told as a child about an immortal prince of starlight, who waited through every century to find the reincarnated woman he loved – the lady only able to remember their lives together when she looked into his eyes. 

Now, Keegan was no prince. He was far too covered in blood and gore to ever be considered one…but at that moment you swear he came close to one.

“Dance with me, Doll.” Your expression freezes, breath stilling, before a heavy heat blooms all over your face and neck; ears burning. Watching your boyfriend with soft wonder, your heart beats out of order.

Dance? You can’t help the giddy look on your face, ears twitching, He wasn’t to dance with me?

The music in the background swells as you place your hand in his, feeling his rough callouses and sucking in a breath when he squeezes your limb so gently – like you were made of glass. 

Your hands go around Keegan’s shoulders, fingers itching the back of his neck as his own circle your waist. Both of your chests brush, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. Humming My Way under your breath, you begin to sway back and forth softly as your boyfriend stares down at you. A smile graces his lips, pulling back to show pristine white teeth. 

Those true smiles were only promised to you, and you would have it no other way.

“You’re a real softy, Mr. Russ,” You whisper, setting your head into the crook of his neck and sighing, “What would you do if your friends saw you like this? Slow Dancing? Talking all the time instead of grunting out orders?”

“I’d have to off ‘em,” He grunts, ironically, with his breath rustling your hair, “Can’t ruin my reputation now. Worked too hard for it.” 

Pressing a kiss to your head, you feel Keegan’s chest begin to rumble, causing you to let your body lose all tension and tautness. Closing your eyes, you let him guide your movements with his own and listen to the sound of him humming to you. The music was lost to the two of you, only absorbed in each other – the feeling of skin and beating pulses. 

These moments were rare, but so, so, worshiped. You knew Keegan’s job was dangerous, but, hell, the world was dangerous now. All you could ask was that he came home – not that he would come home uninjured because he almost always would. Your boyfriend was selfless, giving so much and never asking for anything. Worthy of all the love in the world.

And you would give that to him – freely. Because you know he loved you in turn.

You were both the receivers of a gentle type of worship; a blessing that can only be given to a kind of bond that would never be broken despite the limitations of death. 

And as Keegan lays his hand under your chin and brings your lips into a kiss, you knew that even long after you were both dead and gone the very bones that live in you would always yearn to be by his. 

Keegan was your future, and, so too, were you his; he would always return home just for you.

For this. 

For a gentle, unselfish, worship.

[vodika-vibes]

i know i just requested something (so sorry abt this😭😭) but i just thought of this!!

a modern AU meet cute with fives!! like a romantic little thing with a gn reader please!! maybe in a cafe or restaurant bc i love food lol

Coffee Cake

Summary: You are a busy person, always running hither and thither, running errands for your boss, your coworkers, and your family. And, every morning, you stop at the same cafe for coffee and a piece of coffee cake and hope that the cute barista will finally notice you.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1440

Prompts: Modern AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So this is less meet cute and more they already had their meet cute and are now friends who want more. I hope you don't mind! I also wrote this in under an hour, without any coffee because I have bloodwork this morning, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. And I'm, like, 90% sure that I kept this GN, but if I didn't just let me know!

The cafe smells like fresh coffee and fresh pastries. It’s probably the most comforting scent that you know, comforting enough that the moment you step through the doors, stress just falls off your shoulders. 

Stress is a regular part of your life.

Well, okay.

Stress is a regular part of everyone’s lives, but you seem to have twice as much stress compared to everyone you’ve ever spoken to.

“Babe,” They say, “Babe, you’re doing too much. You need to slow down.” And then they dump three weeks' worth of needs on you, and your stress levels just skyrocket.

At this time of day, though, so early that the birds are still waking up and the sun is just barely creeping over the horizon, there are not many people in the cafe. So you’re able to move over to your favorite table and drop all of your stuff on the table.

Technically, your work day doesn’t start for another hour, but you have some emails you need to send, and a speech you need to read over and correct for your friend. Not to mention, Mom needs you to make reservations for her, Dad, and your older sister and brother-in-law at a 5-star resort on the other side of the country.

And then your workday will properly start.

Yay.

You think it’s kind of telling that you’re not invited to the resort for the vacation that you’re scheduling for your family, but you’re not going to call them out on it.

This time.

You jump when someone raps their knuckles on your table, and then turn your head to look at the man standing just to your left.

Tall and broad, with curly hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and a 5 tattooed on his temple, Fives is probably the biggest reason that you regularly visit this cafe rather than one of the dozens of other cafes in the city.

A small smile crosses your face when you see him standing there, “Good morning, Fives,”

“Morning yourself, early bird,” He teases as he reaches out a tugs on one of your curls, “The coffee cake isn’t done yet, but I do have your coffee.” He sets the paper cup on the table next to your laptop, “Peppermint cream and two sugars, just how you like it.”

You sigh, “You’re an angel among men, Fives.”

He smirks at you, “Oh, I know.”

You laugh quietly and sink into a chair, resting your chin on your knuckles as you look up at him, “Busy morning?”

“Never,” Fives replies as he leans his hip against the table, “You know we have some regulars, but the majority of our clientele is made up of my brothers.”

“Well, you do have a lot of them,” You joke as you pick up the cup and take a sip of the cafe and then pull it back to look at it in surprise, “Did you put—?”

“Whipped cream? Yes, I did. With some chocolate shavings.” Fives replies smugly.

You set the cup back on the table and look up at him, “Marry me?”

“You only want me for my coffee.” He counters with a grin, “I wanted to try something new, if you like it enough I’m going to add it to the menu.”

“Ah, and here I thought you just wanted to spoil me, not that I was playing taste-tester.”

“It can be both,” He says with a shrug, “Anyway, what mess are you cleaning up this morning?”

“Mm…I have some emails I need to send for work. My friend in the governor's office needs me to read over a speech she prepared for the Governer. Oh, and my parents and sister need me to book them a stay in a 5-star resort when they go on vacation.”

“You’re going on vacation?”

“Well, I wasn’t invited.”

“Wait, you weren’t invited but you still have to do all of the work?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t do it.”

“If I don’t then it won’t get done,” You reply.

“Then it doesn’t get done, it’s not your problem.”

You sigh softly, “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t have time for a vacation anyway.”

Fives stares at you for a moment and then drops into the seat next to you. He smells like coffee and pastries, and there’s a smudge of powdered sugar on his cheek, and it’s all very distracting. 

“You,” Fives says as he takes your laptop and shoves it back into your bag, “do too much. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

“Uh…I dunno, five years ago, maybe? My sister’s wedding.”

“And was that an actual vacation, or did she make you play wedding planner?” Fives asks.

“...I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

“Good, you should.” He takes your hands in his so you aren’t able to grab your laptop, “You deserve better.”

“They’re my family and my friends,”

“Them being family only excuses so much,” Fives counters, “And you need better friends.”

“It’s not that easy, Fives. Can I have my laptop back?”

“No. This is rest time.”

You sigh, “Fives—”

“The bags under your eyes are so deep that they can probably carry all of my clothes with room to spare,”

You pull back and shoot him an offended look, “That’s mean,”

“I’m worried about you.” He releases one of your hands so he’s able to pull your chair closer, and you can feel his warmth radiating off him, “There’s more to life than…this.” He gestures to the pile of work stuff.

“I know that! I do. I’m just…busy, that’s all.”

Fives watches you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Do you dance?”

“I…what?”

“Dance? Do you dance?”

“Not well,” You reply slowly, “I’m not very coordinated.”

“Well, I’m going clubbing tonight with my brothers,” Fives says, “Come with me.”

“To the club?”

“Yeah.”

“And do what? Sit there and watch other people dance and drink?” You ask.

“Don’t be obtuse,” He rolls his eyes, “You’ll dance with me. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

You stare at him, bemused, “You want to dance with me?”

“I want a lot of things. But I’ll settle for dancing for now.” He grins at you and continues before you’re able to ask him about his comment, “Anyway, are you in? It’ll be fun~”

You sigh softly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go dancing with you tonight.”

The broad grin that crosses his face surprises you, though you’re not sure why you’re so surprised. Fives always gets excited when you say that you’re trying something new.

“That’s great! The dress code is whatever you can move in, I’m sure you’ll look amazing,” Fives says, his voice very excited, “But, I have to get back to work. I’ll bring you your coffee cake as soon as it’s done.”

You smile at him fondly, “Fives,”

He pauses before he stands, “Yeah?”

“You have sugar on your cheek,” He blinks at you and wipes his cheek, only to miss the sugar, and you laugh softly, “Hold on, I got it.” You reach out and lightly brush the sugar off of his cheek and onto the floor, “There. Perfect,”

You start to pull your hand back only for him to grab your wrist and, in one smooth motion, he pulls you towards him and crashes his lips against yours. 

You release a surprised noise, and then you melt into him, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest.

In your experience, first kisses are supposed to be soft and gentle. But this one isn’t. It’s deep and probing as if Fives is trying to determine what makes you tick with every press of his lips against yours.

You could lose yourself in him if you had the chance, so it’s probably a good thing that Hevy yells at Fives from behind the counter, “Oi!” He shouts as he flings a ball of paper at his younger brother, “Stop making out with your girl and get back behind the counter.”

Fives flips his brother off without looking away from you, and there’s a small smile on his face as his hand lingers against your cheek. He leans in as if he’s going to kiss you again, only for his twin to jerk him out of the seat.

“I’m happy for you, Fives. But you need to get back to work. Now.” Echo hisses as he drags Fives away from the table.

You lightly press your fingers against your lips, they’re tingling a little bit. And, for the first time in your life, you’re looking forward to going out tonight. 

And, judging by the goofy grin on Fives’ face, tonight can’t happen fast enough.

[fandxmslxt69]

Lesson Not Learnt

Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

Warnings: Loki he's a warning. SMUT SMUT SMUT LIKE FILTHY SMUT. Swearing, a lot of sex, like a lot lot, um...oral (m and f receiving), praise a LOT of degradation (dont look at me like that) umm. Literally just. Smut okay disgusting filthy stuff

A/N: So this took well over a month to finish (wayyy more) and I don't know if I like it because its umm definitely a lot? TO BE FAIR I took like weeks worth of sexual frustration and dumped it all out here so :/ It in fact did go off script and I just..went a little crazy ngl. it's definitely a lot. But :D umm oh!! I'm gonna tag whoever seemed interested in the snippet I posted like a million years ago but PLEASE DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO READ <3

-Clem

Synopsis: Despite how many times Loki told you to behave yourself before this party, you couldn't help causing a little bit of trouble. (or, alternatively, friendly flirting with Matt causes Loki to flip out and fuck you to heaven and back)

Word count: 3.9k (omfg...)

MINORS DNI BEYOND THIS POINT

Tied to the bed, legs spread wide open.

Hours of merciless torture.

Or hours of endless pleasure and pain. 

Your mind spiralled with image after image, each worse than the last. You could barely focus on the task at hand, the actual setting up to the big finale. 

You knew it was wrong.

You knew how risky it was to tick him off. You knew it would only be your downfall. But Loki always made that punishment too sweet for you to stay away from. 

You stood at the bar, fingers tapping on your thigh. It was one of those big Avengers nights, tonight you were all treated to Tony’s nice collection of drinks, and a loud party. 

You had every intention of behaving for the night. You could still hear Loki’s whisper as his hands moved up your thighs and under your skirt, be good tonight, and maybe you’ll get a reward hm?

Your legs squeezed together at the memory. But you knew he knew that as soon as you walked downstairs you’d do everything not to behave like he asked. 

So there you were, shamelessly flirting with one of Natasha’s old friends- Matt.  He was attractive, no one could deny that, and he went along with you perfectly, every move well placed. They did always say he was too aware of his surroundings. 

He took a sip of his drink, smirking slightly. “I think everyone in this party can feel the jealousy oozing off of him,”  You shrugged. “Good. Means we’re doing it right, aren’t we?” “Hm. You know I came here with every intention not to die tonight,” You chuckled. “You won’t, he wouldn’t do that,” He raised an eyebrow. “Really?” You paused. “....Well.” “Mhm, I pro-” “Murdock.” Loki’s cold voice sliced right through the conversation. He looked collected, but you swore you saw a storm growing in those gorgeous eyes. You felt him move behind you, his body caging around your smaller frame, arm rested and leaning against the bar. 

You kept your eyes trained on your hands in your lap. 

“I believe this is my girlfriend you’re talking to, no?” “Laufeyson,” Matt took another drink. “What can I say, the conversation was interesting,” “And here I thought you were a respectable man,” Loki tsked. “But I must say, it did look very interesting.” He leaned down, lips grazing your ear. “Were you keeping Mr. Murdock quite entertained, pet?”  Your breath caught in your throat. “I-..um.” Matt hummed quietly, a laugh clearly starting to build up inside of him. “I think I’ll..be going now. Enjoy the rest of your night folks,” There was definitely something in his tone there. You threw a sharp glare at him as he walked away. 

It’s silent between you and Loki for a second, before he grabs you by the arm tightly, pulling you out of your seat. “Let’s go.” He said firmly. 

You frowned as he started walking, and with how tall and quick he was, you felt like you were going to trip and face-plant. “Slow down. Go where?” “We’re going before you get yourself into any more trouble,” He gritted out as you walked down the hallway.  You were heading to his room!! “Trouble?” You scoffed. “I wasn’t even in trouble,” 

Instantly, he pushed you against the wall, his hands planted on either side of your head, his body so close, his face was merely inches from yours, and the fury in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. “Oh? Is that so, pet?” He spat. “You think you aren’t in trouble? Not even after flirting so shamelessly with Murdock? Like a whore?” 

You inhaled sharply, feeling your thin panties start to soak from his words. “It…it was friendly flirting. I was just making conversation,”  “Don’t lie to me, darling. I know what friendly flirting looks like, and it was not that. You were getting nice and close, hm? Did you want him to know how much of a slut you are? Or were you just wanting to rile me up, hoping I’d swoop in to take you away and fuck you until you can’t even think anymore?”

You felt a blush creep up your body, his words shouldn’t be affecting you this much, but the way his voice dripped with anger and hints of lust, the way his grip tightened on your arm you were sure it might bruise. You felt pathetic, being so turned on by his words, it was marvellous how he’s studied you and memorised you so well he knows just what to say to get you in the right trap.  “No I-” Before you could finish your sentence, he finally takes you to his room, practically throwing you at the bed and slamming the door shut. He points to a chair in the room. “Sit.”  You sat up, the covers on the bed wrinkling under your touch. “What?” “Sit. Now. Are you too dumb to understand such simple commands? Will I need to repeat them as if I were talking to a dog?” 

You quickly scrambled up, rushing and taking a seat in the chair without further arguments. This was a new side you’d never seen of him. You could feel your heartbeat pick up as Loki watched you with darkened eyes. Your nerves felt like they were vibrating inside of you, you couldn’t sit still even if you tried, the excitement was too much. 

He sighed then, and started carefully unbuttoning his shirt. You sat up straighter, leaning in. He stops midway, before discarding his suit jacket and taking a seat on the bed, scooting to the back and dramatically laying on his back. You frowned, not sure where this was going until he slipped a hand into his pants. You let out a quiet gasp, leaning in forward to get a better look. You could see the outlines of him slowly stroking himself, and you could feel arousal pooling between your thighs. You watched in full attention, your body getting up on its own, eager to go over and please him yourself. “Stay in the chair.” Loki spoke, his voice laced in pleasure. He shot you a glare, before adding, “And no touching yourself,” 

You felt something tighten in your lower stomach as you sat back down. “What? That’s not fair!” “Oh I think it’s very fair, darling. Especially after what you pulled downstairs,”  “That’s different!” You grumbled, yet still moved back to the chair.  “Mm…I don’t think it is,” He mumbled before getting lost in the moment, his hand moving faster under his pants as he leaned his head back and groaned. You felt like bursting into flames. He sounded so pretty and it was unfair that you weren’t pulling those noises from him yourself.  “Loki,” You started, digging your nails into your thigh. “Please take off your pants Loki- I wanna see,”  He groaned louder, his free hand gripping the sheets tightly. “I don’t know if you’ve been good enough for that,” You made a noise of protest. “Loki! Please, I asked nicely, didn't I?! I’m doing everything you’re asking!” He sighed, pulling his hand reluctantly out of his pants and quickly discarding his clothes before laying back down elegantly, naked and glorious. His hard cock stood to wide attention, the tip red and angry and so desperate for attention- attention you craved to give it. “Better, pet?” You nodded, eyes fixed on him. “Yeah…” You breathed out. You could see his lips curve into a smirk before his hand wrapped around his cock again, slowly gliding along it and pumping. He let out a shuddery breath, his eyes fluttering shut. You watched intently, your eyes never leaving his body for a second as you took in every detail, from the soft lines of his body to the small buck of his hips as he neared his climax. 

You squirmed in your seat, trying to keep your pathetic whimpers at bay. He just looked so goddamn gorgeous, the way he looked blissful and caught in the moment. You couldn’t stop the question tumbling from your mouth, “Are you thinking of me when you’re touching yourself like that?” 

He let out a near feral sound. “Fuck- yes. Always, you’re all I see. Every time, I just wish it was you on your knees, taking all of me in your mouth like a good slut. My good little slut.” 

Fuuuck.

You shifted in your place, squeezing your thighs tightly together. You were absolutely positive the panties you wore right now were going to be thrown in the garbage by the end of the night.  You whined. “Then let me help you! I’ll be a good slut, right? Please. I’ll be really good!”  He chuckled, pausing to move to the edge of the bed and sit. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shadowed with lust. “Mm, I bet you would, wouldn’t you?” “Yes!” You got up quickly, eager to get closer to him. “I would be really-” He didn’t let you finish your sentence, because midway through he snapped his fingers and cast an illusion- an illusion of you. It sat on its knees right between his thighs, and wasted no time to lean in and take Loki in its mouth with an obscene amount of noise. Loki groaned loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure. 

You felt your mind just…shut down. You stood there in shock as you watched the scene unfold right before you. You stared, you couldn’t help it. It intrigued you, in a sense. Did he do this often? Whatever it was, the illusion was definitely professional with the way Loki was moaning. “Oh fuck-” You inched back slowly, sitting back down before your knees gave out. Everything ached. You ached to touch him, to feel him, to please him- you ached for his entire being to be pressed so close to you that you shared the same breath. 

He pulled the illusion’s hair, wasting no time to start fucking her throat harshly. It was cruel, what he was doing. He knew just how desperate you get to please him and he enjoyed watching you squirm too much. He lasts a few minutes before his hips halt as he hits his climax, floating in bliss. He looked angelic, to say the least, his face flushed as he let out a sigh of content. The illusion melted away instantly, and Loki shifted back properly onto the bed, a look of fake pity on his face. “Tsk, poor pet. Are you feeling lonely?” You nodded, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. He tsked again. “Come here then,” You immediately shot to your feet, rushing over to his side without hesitation. “Sit, darling.” Not a request, not a question, simply a demand. An order, one you were more than happy to obey. You quickly took off your dress, slipped out of your soaked panties and bra. You got onto the bed, carefully hovering over him.  “Go ahead, darling,” He grabbed your waist tightly, letting you lower yourself onto him at your own pace. He knows you have limits, but the way you were dripping wet, it didn’t take long before he was flush inside of you. He ran a hand up along your thigh, humming as he watched you with a lustful gaze. “Such a good girl, hm? Think you deserve some fun now?”

You nodded, feeling the burn of the stretch fade into pleasure. He squeezed your hips gently, slowly helping you find a good starting pace. You should’ve been a little suspicious for letting you out of trouble so easily, but you couldn’t find the energy to care right now, you just needed more. You tried picking up your own pace, to ride him faster but naturally, Loki wasn’t done with you. He held you tightly in place, a pathetic look of sympathy on his face. “Oh no, I don’t think so,” “What?!” You punched his chest lightly. “Loki please-”  “No, darling. You don’t get to go around flirting with other people and expect me to be nice to you after. You should’ve known better,” “Lokiii,” You whined. “It was a joke! You know I didn’t mean it!” “But do I?” He thrust his hips up lazily. “A joke, hm? You wanted me to get upset?” You shook your head, trying to move your hips but his grip on you wasn’t letting up. “No, I don't believe that. I think you wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to get all angry so I could fuck you senseless? To play with you like the dumb toy you are?” He groaned, feeling you clench around him at his words. He couldn’t keep this self control act up. “Fuck- why don’t you show me how sorry you are, hm? You wanted to be a useless whore, show me how good you are then.” He loosened his grip on your hips, giving you the freedom to ride him. You quickly take control of the freedom, eager to feel the slow climb of pleasure, but all there was were few sparks that light and blow out almost immediately. You could feel frustration start to bubble up inside of you as Loki lazily thrust up into you every now and then. He was making no effort to help, and you felt ready to crawl out of your own skin.  “Loki,” You groaned. “It’s not working,” “So?” He looked infuriating, smirking up at you with blown out eyes and a light flush on his cheeks. What. An. Ass. “I need help! Please-” “Oh no,” he chuckled. “You can keep going,” You whined. “Loki! It’ll take ages, I’ll give up right now,” The sound he made was damn near a growl as his hands tightened on your hips. “You are in no position to make threats, pet. You misbehaved, now you deal with the consequences. Argue again and it’ll be much worse,”  You grumbled, but the threat sent a shiver through you. “Sir please,”  His grip suddenly turned bruising, his eyes wide in an almost feral need. “Oh? You’re using sir now, are you?” You nodded quickly, trying to build up to your high again. “Y-yeah...thought you liked it?” “You’re right,” He started as one of his hands drifted lower, flicking a teasing finger over your clit. You were so desperate the slight action alone ripped a moan out of you. “I do. But I also know you’re only saying it to look like a good girl,”  You choked out a cry, needing another touch so badly you’d start crying for it. Not that he’d have anything against the idea of you in tears for him… “I’m not! Loki p-please please I need you so bad please sir-” You blabbered.

He can’t resist you, he’s never been able to, so you supposed it was why he gave in so quickly. He snapped his hips up to meet yours, sending a shockwave of pleasure rippling through you. 

You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. “Th-thank you sir,” You managed to choke out. He makes a sound of disapproval as he holds you down in place, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace. You moaned loudly, feeling the knot of pleasure intensify in your stomach as he hit deeper and deeper. He took one hand off your waist, reaching in between your bodies and pressing down harshly on your clit. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to wash over you in mind blowing waves. “Loki! F-fuck Loki-” You moaned louder, breathing heavily as he pushed you through your high and pushed through his. You were sure that the people through the halls could hear from how loud Loki was, but he sounded so pretty, muttering sweet nothings to you, you couldn’t be bothered to care. He flipped you over, pinning your hands above your head with one hand as the other gripped your waist, his hips relentless as they smacked into you over and over again. 

You withered under him, tears welling up in your eyes from the intensity. You leaned up a little, pressing your lips tightly to his to drown out your cries. He eagerly kisses you back, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He pulled away after a bit to catch his breath, his lips with a light bruise on them. “You’re doing so well, princess. Such a good little whore,” He said before kissing you again, letting go of your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat. 

This was definitely your fucktoy moment.

He was just using as he pleased, taking and taking until he was satisfied. He picked you up and flipped you around, forcing you on your hands and knees. He’s still got one hand around your neck as the other one palms your ass as he continued to fuck you roughly. You had lost track of everything. Everything but the feel of his skin touching yours, his heavy ragged breathing, and how wonderful it felt to have him buried so deeply inside of you. All you could think of was how the pleasure was blending with a pain that was absolutely delicious. 

You could tell he was close from the way his thrusts started getting a little sloppy, and his breathing ragged as his hands roamed across your body, trailing messy kisses down your back. You moaned loudly, pressing yourself back against him as you felt the pit of your stomach tighten, the waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your arms wobble, threatening to give out from your exhaustion. He groaned as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, keeping you in place as he reached his own release, his hips stilling as he came with a shuddered gasp. He breathed heavily, pulling you from your hips to sit up and press your back against him. Your bodies were slick in sweat, chests heaving. You could feel your mind slowly grow hazy from the pleasure- it always happened with Loki. He knew how to work your body better than you could’ve ever thought possible, and only after a few rounds you felt your mind slip into the cloudy haze of pleasure and float in clouds of joy as he kept having his way. 

You had thought today might be different, perhaps he’d deny you that calming bliss- but it seemed just the excitement from his show earlier and this was enough to send you flying. 

He pressed wet kisses on your shoulder, his lips trailing up your neck as he sucked and bit lightly, leaving small love marks littered across your shoulders. 

“Loki-...” Your breath hitched when his lips kissed over your pulse. His tongue dragged over the skin loosely before he started sucking on the spot. You knew there’d be a dark bruise there in the morning. “Loki…” You started again but your words dissolved into a mumble of confusion and frankly, a bit of hurt when he lifted you off of him. You felt empty without him in you, and it was a feeling you did not enjoy. He laid you gently on the bed, leaving your legs spread open for him as he hovered over you. “Shhh,” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, another under your ear, one on your cheek, another messy and quick at the corner of your mouth. His messy hair tickled your face, but all of that was lost when you felt his finger slowly rubbing your clit. You gasped, your head falling back on his shoulder.  “Loki-” “Shhh, pet. I know you can give me another. You can, can’t you? Such a good girl, you’ll let me pull one more out of you, yes?” His skilled finger pressed on your bundle of nerves, sending an electric shock of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned, torn between moving away from him or begging him for more.  You felt like you were going to explode- he was both too close and too far. You wanted more, but your body wanted to shy away from his touch, the sensitivity making your whole body tremble.  He lowered his face, kissing down your body as his fingers continued their work. His lips left soft kisses on your quivering thighs before starting to suck on your clit. A cry fell from your lips and your hands flew to fist his hair, tugging at it as the feel of his fingers and tongue became overwhelming. You couldn’t think of anything but the growing feeling of pleasure pooling at the pit of your stomach, and the god before you as he wasted no efforts to continue devouring you, the sinful squelching sounds making your brain go haywire. Your eyes pricked with tears, your pussy feeling too sensitive from his relentless attacks.  It’s pathetic how quickly you came again, and as he slowly worked you through your high, you knew for a fact you would not be able to do anything tomorrow but stay in bed and sleep.  You felt completely and utterly wasted and used and you felt a bit of relief trickle in when Loki finally pulled away from your aching cunt, a satisfied smile on his lips. 

He leaned in and kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips. You were both breathless when he pulled away, and if you had the energy you’d reach up and run a hand through his hair, working on detangling every strand. You hummed happily, feeling your mind drifting dangerously close to the edges of sleep. “Mm,” Loki kissed you again. “My precious girl. You did so good darling, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? C’mon, up you go,”  You chuckled lightly, feeling your eyelids get heavy. “Loki-..I literally can’t even move my finger,”  He laughed, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Did I tire you out too much?” “Yes,” You mumbled. “I’m not getting up,” “Very well,” You felt the bed shift, and suddenly it felt cold without him near. “Loki come back,” You got no answer. You yawned, your eyes drifting open and close with every passing second.  When he did finally come back, you were but a step away from blissful rest. You heard him chuckle, and you frowned deeply but refused to open your eyes. 

“That tired, hm? Well, at least you learnt your lesson,” He got back in bed, carefully cleaning you up the best he could. With a snap of his fingers, the dirty bedsheets were replaced with fresh, warm new ones, and you almost wept in joy as your body melted completely into the mattress. You rolled yourself up in the blanket, burying your face in the pillow. “Lesson not learnt,” You yawned loudly. “Good night,” 

He laughed again, and what a blessed thing that it was the last sound you heard as you fell asleep, feeling his arms wrap around you and pull you into him. 

Despite how upset he might have been at your little joke, or how exhausted you felt, you both knew it wouldn’t be the last time you played dirty for his attention.

[jiminsass-istant]

TW: jicooking (fanfic)

Context: The jikook show is going to ruin me for any other show ever. I just know it. Imagine AYS is over and you go over to netflix and it's all meh, no jimin, no jk, no giggles. Then you go over to appletv, same. Then you go to hulu, same shxt. Nothing will ever come close. I'm already sick and wrecked and ruined.

____________________________________________________________

It's the year 2045. I'm on my 118th watch of AYS. I have already watched it at 0.25x, 0.5x, 0.75x , rewinded, with zero volume, on Dolby speakers, streamed it in my present car and old car, in my tablet, office PC and smart TV.

I count the hairs on JK's arm, I can still count all 5813 of them. I have taken 648934984 screenshots of Jimin's bare legs. I take 1 more, just in case. I pause every time they "i am you, you are me". I wipe the single tear off my eye and continue. But this time, I notice something I have never noticed before. The whole tumblr community has churned and squeezed the 8 episodes and 3 behind the scenes every day, annually, monthly and biweekly, every tkker has been trolled, every anti has either moved on or is in an institution. But this.. this is new. I see it in the 7th episode. Did I tell you I'm on my 118th watch? I see the toothbrushes have been exchanged. What? They have exchanged toothbrushes. They don't care. They are gross. They are in love. Their dentist hates them. Wait. I gotta tell somebody...Does the jikook tag still exist on tumblr? Does tumblr still exist? Nevermind. I go to Xpro (twitter pro). I finally bought the premium. So now, it allows me to like stuff while keeping them private. Even I can't see my likes. But I do get a personal message from Elon's AI persona every month which is a review of my liked posts and how I can upgrade my Xpro xperience. The real Elon is de@d. He was ki!!ed by an Xpro bluetick bot account.

I need to let somebody know. I need to share my discovery with old buddies. Suddenly, I see a "JIKOOK LIVE TOGETHER" trending with 1566 posts. Pretty low, but it's there. A single person has hijacked the tag to mention S.Korea's govt. I come across a blurry video. A face with half moon eyes, biggest smile, waving from a big goth mansion's balcony. He is looking at the camera, he doesn't care. They are gross. A taller man appears behind him. He starts feeding him what looks like a large pancake. They are gross. Suddenly, I don't care anymore.

I don't care about the toothbrushes they shared 23 years ago.

I log off the internet to get a smoke. They are gross. I don't care about anything anymore. I'm sure of that. I'm sure now.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 13. Shimmering Icicles [C3]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, Prompt 6. Out Of Care

A/N:As promised! Here's today's fic - hope you'll love it 🤭 We're starting to get mighty warm in this one 👀 I mean, it is wintertime over here so I certainly don't mind 🤭🙈 I'm also so beyond ready to get a little break tbh - it's been nonstop of everything for the past few weeks (the last three days being super hectic with the writing as you know) and I'd love to curl up with a good book or longer fic and just take a moment to exist but I'm also super happy about all the writing I've gotten done so far this month 😂 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and that December keeps on giving all the good stuff 🥰❤

Tags/TW’s: Mutual Secret Pining, Wishing For Forgiveness, Cuddling Close In Sleep, Masturbation, Bathtub Pleasure, Unwilling/Unplanned Voyeurism, Virgin Reader, Sexual Desperation, Struggling With Emotions & New Sensations, Wishing For More, Yielding For Another's Benefit

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

Your body hummed with warmth, a calmness seemed sturdily wrapped around you as you awoke to the steadily growing light of dawn sifting through your closed eyelids. It was late morning and you couldn’t quite make yourself fully wake up. The dream of Richard returning to you in the middle of the night made you force yourself to remain on the borderline to wakefulness — the encompassing warmth did little to help sleep leave.

A flexing hand at your hip jolted your senses. You drew a quiet gasp as your eyes popped open in a rush. A pale chest dusted with grey hair filled your vision, the steady thumping of a heart beneath your ear rousing you further. You were curled up against Richard, his arm under your head and wrapped around your back. It wasn’t a dream .

You tried to remain utterly still, endeavouring to relax your muscles to fain sleep. Never had you laid so close. Never had he held you tightly. Never had you heard his heartbeat before or felt his steady breaths under your palm as his chest rose and sank. He was warm, soft yet sturdy — but that you already knew. How I missed you, darling … It was really a strange thing, though. Given everything, how had you fallen in love with the stoic man and felt as if he was missing from you when he wasn’t around? When did that really happen?

Richard hummed and tensed his arm for a second before his breaths turned deep and steady once more. You gently tilted your head back. His face was a wondrous thing to look at. Especially in that moment; his hard lines softened by sleep, the tension in his jaw gone for the time being, and his often scrunched eyebrows softly curved in relaxation. Your fingers tingled to reach up and drag down the curve of his hooked nose, to stroke those cheeks with the slight tint of rosy warmth and grey stubble.

You refrained. Instead, you cuddled closer, closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep. You wanted to remain there for as long as possible, a lacking in your heart you hadn’t known about suddenly felt filled with his closeness. Despite everything, he had come back and whatever discussion was to be had could wait. Your eternity rested in his hands, his words, but surely forever could spare another minute…

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He dared not move. The sun shone through the curtains, the day having since long begun. Yet he lay absolutely still, like a dead man in a casket. He kept his breaths deep and slow, every muscle relaxed and softened. Your warmth invaded his skin, your scent filled his nose, your soft breaths filled his ears with a sweet whooshing sound so low he could barely hear it but the warmth it fanned over his bare chest in intervals could not be missed.

Perhaps I perished in sleep and have reached— no, I must be very much alive, with my sweet wife cuddled close. The muddled and unfamiliar sensations within him were difficult to pinpoint — there were so many of them and all quite elusive to correctly term in their newness. His rigid cock was an easier matter to understand, you felt like perfection against him — despite the nightdress keeping your soft skin from his. This is not a time for my desperate need. I may very well be on the brink of never gaining such a gift from her, I cannot jeopardize this moment or the future beyond it.

He drew a deeper breath, gently moving his muscles to give you the chance to move away before ever knowing he was awake and aware of how the two of you lay so maddeningly close. But you didn’t move, nothing about your state changed and a mixture of relief and sorrow flooded him. He wished you awoke and remained cuddled against him willingly, what one did in sleep one had little control over and if you did not wake and made the active choice to remain close to him the moment meant that much less.

He sneaked his arm free before abandoning the warmth to shrug on his robe. When he glanced at you over his shoulder, your arm lay stretched over the mattress where he had been a moment ago but other than that nothing had changed. Asleep… Perhaps that is the only time I deserve your closeness, when you offer it unknowingly. The thought stabbed at his usually cold heart, his aching cock demanding to enter your warmth and find its sweet release, his skin itched to be connected with yours, and above all he wished for you to look him in the eye while offering your forgiveness.

None of it was granted, of course. He merely left the bedroom with a final glance at your sleeping form before heading to the bathroom. His movements were hurried, the constant pressure to go back and wake you, kiss you, press you down into the mattress with his own body while offering you all the pleasure he could was agonizingly unbearable.

He filled the tub with steaming water and shrugged out of his robe and underpants before sinking into the water with a deep groan. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he tried to resist the urges coursing through his veins with the image of you in the bed as a constant stoker to the fire within him. It all mixed with his anger, his hurt, his wish for forgiveness, and the uncontrollable warmth you seemed to thaw his entire heart with.

His cock jerked as a memory flashed of you smiling widely at him, eyes all twinkly and warm when looking upon him. “Fucking hell and damnation,” he huffed out in a near snarl. “She’ll be the death of me, I swear it.” His hand found his cock and grabbed it harshly, squeezing the throbbing length with almost too much force as the need to come to the thoughts of you looking at him with warmth turned overwhelming.

He stroked himself, the water rippled at the motion as he spread his legs wider to relieve the pressure on his balls. “ Fuck ,” he hissed as he upped the pace, thinking of your hands on him, your lips against his skin, forgiveness and words of want tumbling out of your alluring mouth as he stroked himself harder. “Y/n— oh, fuck — ” he groaned while his balls drew up, his spine stiffening at the pending release he so desperately needed if he were to have the slightest chance at keeping a somewhat clear head later.

His hips bucked against his hand, and nearly painful pleasure built higher and higher as he gripped his cock harder — needing the pain to keep him from roaring out. “Y/n, my — haaa — sweet wife, oh fuck — ” He bit down on his lip, hissing a breath out between his teeth as he tensed all over. “Yes, yes, oh fuck -, Y/n—” His sentence got cut, his entire body turned stiff, and his eyes flew open at the sound of a gasp.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, your hand over your agape mouth, the other still grasped the doorknob with with-knuckled force. “You-, you called my name,” you whispered while your cheeks turned scarlet, your entire throat rosy in a manner that only had his pleasure rising higher while your eyes seemed to look all over him in the clear bath, his hands still gripping his aching cock on the cusps of release.

It all happened in mere seconds, his lust-addled brain too caught in pleasure to fully register what was happening. “Oh my god!” you shrieked and his eyes found yours bound to his hand grasping his bulging length, he was still holding it tightly and the pressure along with your agonizingly alluring look of embarrassment and innocence tipped him over the edge before he could stop himself.

Red hot pleasure erupted within him as his cock pulsed, the water closest to it turning muddled with his cum while he gasped and groaned at the relief, his hips automatically jerking at the sensation while he tried to stop himself from completely unravelling while your intent gaze fanned the flames of his pleasure with your look of horror, intrigue, shame, and longing, all mixed into one delicious cocktail of purity to be ravaged. He couldn’t help it, you were the one woman he wished to be his and only his for all time — past, present, and future.

But this, the situation you were now in, had never been on his list of wants for your introduction to his naked anatomy. He always wished to go slow with you, make you feel safe in his proximity and closeness — make you curious, not frightened. Fucking hell , he thought while the five seconds after his climax passed in a breath-snagging stillness. Then you turned and slammed the door shut behind you with a bang so hard it rattled the walls. Dread seeped into his bones while his entire body deflated in the warm water. He feared all was lost now, seeing your reaction to him calling your name in the midst of manhandling his own cock. His body turned heavy and the sweetness of ejaculating to the thoughts of you did nothing to ease the stiffness in his shoulders.

⩤• You •⩥

You panted, your chest seemed nearly to explode as you tried to stop the raging of your pounding heart. You leaned against the door, a door you shouldn’t have entered despite hearing your name called. I thought he heard my steps, oh god, oh god, I thought— You hid your face behind your hands, your entire body felt on edge and there was a burning warmth forcing your entire body to tense as you couldn’t rid yourself of the magnificent view you had just witnessed. A primal urge. A deep-seated need. An indisputable sensation of something frighteningly new yet wholly wanted by your body.

Your skin was far too hot, your legs too shaky. The sound of Richard leaving the tub and water dripping on the tiles forced you to jolt away from the door. You couldn’t stop the feelings of him holding you close in the morning from mixing with whatever maddening sensation seeing him in such a state while nearly moaning your name made you feel now. It was too much, yet your body felt deprived of something at the same time.

Your back hit the hallway wall, your breaths in hot pants while the thin nightdress felt suffocatingly warm in the chilly house. Your eyes were glued to the door before you, your mind running rampant with the thought of your husband naked on the other side — and the length of him, the force of his hand, the look of pleasurable pain contorting his features just before his eyes had snapped to your face. The way his hips had jerked and he’d groaned, the depth of the sound wrecked you while you stood on trembling legs, frozen to the spot with only the wall for support.

Hope bloomed somewhere deep within you. Hope that he would forgive you, that he still wanted you, that he still wished to be with you despite the harsh words he’d spoken about your selfishness three days ago. You quenched a sobbed breath as your entire body confused you with the mixture of all the emotions running rampant within you. It was too much and you felt as if you were wound too tight, too tense and too loose at the same time — unable to untangle your feelings and thoughts while your body ached, thrummed, tensed, shook, all of it at the same time.

Your core ached far beyond anything else. A foreign sensation of coiling warmth your fingers seemed to itch to relieve. The view of Richard in the tub coming to the forefront, the sound of your name leaving his thin lips in such a darkly needy manner. You drew a shivering breath while trying to find your equilibrium. You couldn’t stay there, Richard would soon be done in the bathroom and you couldn’t face him when you were such a sordid mess.

After a few strained steps, you managed to get to the bedroom and slammed the door shut just as you heard the bathroom door open. You ran for the bed, diving in under the covers, and curled up in a ball of tension. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel — Your thought was cut short when the door opened slowly, the tiniest of creaking from its hinges the only indication before Richard’s footsteps echoed out. He was moving closer, each thud echoed in your core with trepidation and shame filling your blood.

“Y/n?” he asked in a deep rumble, his voice thicker than usual. You curled up further, fully hidden under the cover. You didn’t know what else to do but to hide, despite the way you’d missed him while he was gone and how happy you had felt when you noticed him wake up a mere half an hour ago but not moving away from you.

“You should not have seen that,” he said after a short moment, his steps echoing out again — drawing closer once more as he rounded the bed. “I have done my utmost to wait, shield you from my needs to allow yours to dictate the pace we move in. Why would you enter the bathroom in such a manner?” he asked, from the sound of it he stood right by your side and his voice was thick with something dark you couldn’t quite name. “I-, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice meek and strained with the confusing sensations tightening your body. “You called my name,” you continued quietly while listening to his rough breathing. A small whimper escaped you as your mind flashed with the way he’d said it, with such need and want. You never knew your name could sound so wondrous, so delectable, so lusty.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asked, his voice a caress of a rumble. “No.” “Why are you hiding, then?” You drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I-, I’m ashamed.” “Ashamed?” “Yes…” Because I feel like I’ll burst into flames if I look at you, and I looked at you when I shouldn’t have looked at you. And I’m frightened, and, and, and confused— “Why? Tell me,” Richard demanded. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t word what you were feeling, it was a mess and foreign to you. So, you remained quiet under the cover.

A long moment passed in silence, but you felt his presence. It only made you curl up further, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve whatever ache had steadily built at the apex of them. You’d felt a shadow of the sensation before, after having wed Richard and lived with him for a few weeks. He’d been dressed splendidly, seated in the parlour with a book and his legs crossed leisurely. He’d looked magnificent, the afternoon sun had shone behind him and the grey in his hair had nearly glowed from the warm light. Is this that same feeling, only stronger?

“Wife,” Richard said steadily, “answer me.” “No, I-, I cannot,” you whispered, your throat tight. “Do you wish to be alone?” he then asked, dejection hidden in his voice. Did you? Did you want him to leave? “Yes… No…” If you leave now, maybe you’ll leave completely again. I don’t want that… “I shall leave you alone, I will remain in my office,” he said in a cold manner. His voice dark and deep, it sent goosebumps along your skin and the memory of how harshly he’d spoken to you three days ago surfaced. It made you cool slightly, your mind distracted from the images of seeing him in the tub.

His footsteps receded. The sound of the door knob being turned came and your heart jolted. You threw the cover off, your breaths turning rushed, and found his eyes staring at you — no emotions in them. As if he’d turned them off. “Don’t leave me again,” you said. “I took everything down, and I’m so sorry for what I did,” you continued while trying to keep the conflicting emotions and sensations at bay. On one hand, you wished to launch yourself at him and make him take away the ache, on the other you were terrified of the way he looked at you. Blandly. Blankly. 

You looked away, not able to hold the connection. Your eyes went to the window, shimmering icicles hung from the roof and the sparkles were beautiful as the sun shone on the clear ice. Perhaps those icicles were to be the only sparkle this Christmas. It tore a sigh from you, a pitiful sound really. Yet, still, you found yourself thinking that if he needed a Christmas that wasn’t all that Christmasy then you’d accept that, and deal with it — for him. Perhaps him saying your name during such a time as in the tub meant there was a chance for more between the two of you. 

His rushed footsteps filled the room, and you hadn’t time enough to turn your head before his warm hands cradled your cheeks and stormy eyes of grey held yours unwaveringly. “You… are apologizing, to me?” he asked, a low sound of disbelief. “ I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness, Y/n.” You couldn’t say anything, his eyes held you mesmerized and there was not a single thought in your head beyond wanting to kiss the lips confessing to wanting your forgiveness and lifting the blame from you.

“Wife, sweet wife,” he exhaled in a rush while his thumbs stroked your cheeks. The rainbow-coloured sparkles of the icicles danced around him and all you could do was hold his gaze as your body went taunt and hot from the way he looked at you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well, that was a fun fic 🤭 This is really turning into something quite delicious and I do have plans for at least 2 more parts of this story so stay tuned for that in the near future - hopefully not too far off in the future (yes, yes, I'm itching to write more for Turpin - as usual 😂)

Q: What's that one thing that bothers you with the holidays? 👀 A: For me, it's the mania regarding gifts. Like, yes, I love to give and receive gifts but I think there's a bit too much of a buying spree every year rather than an actual thought behind the gifts. I'd rather have one well-thought-out gift than ten random ones 🤷

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky  @sunnylikesfrogs

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Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

[becca-alexa]

Baby, It's Cold

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re snowed in with no heat, so you suggest sharing body heat to keep from freezing - but how far will things go between you and Steve?

Word Count: 6.3K

Content Warnings: p in v sex, general smut, cursing, consensual touching

Author’s Note: feedback appreciated!! i don't have much experience writing stuff like this, and i figured practice makes perfect 💗

    It was a miracle Robin had managed to snag the cabin - who in their right mind would ever rent out an entire villa in the woods to a bunch of twenty-somethings? It was unheard of, or so she claimed, because none of them could get her to shut up about how well she'd haggled for the place, how she'd bartered with the owner over coffee and used her mile-a-minute voice to confuse them into signing off on them staying the weekend.

    The place was far, far outside of Hawkins, an urgently-welcome retreat for all of you after what had proved to be the most difficult year of your lives. Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, you and Steve - you'd all made plans to meet up and drive over together; Eddie had given his van a well-needed tune up specifically for this trip, so that it could handle everyone and everything in one go. But, as was quickly - annoyingly - becoming the norm with your group, your plans fell through… sort of.

    "What do you mean, you're stuck in Indy?" Steve tried to keep his voice down as he balanced the payphone receiver against his ear, hands shoved into the pockets of his jean jacket as he braced himself against the cold. "Robbie, we've been planning this trip for weeks-"

    "I know, I know!" Robin hurriedly replied; you tried not to giggle too loudly as Steve rolled his eyes. "But Nancy had this thing she needed to pick up, and Eddie had offered to drive us, then Jonathan and Argyle wanted to tag along-"

    "What, so you didn't think to tell me about your little day trip?" Steve dragged a hand through his styled hair, shifted from one leg to the other, slapping a hand against his thigh in exasperation. Can you believe her?, he mouthed to you, biting back a grin when you shook your head.

    "Just go with [Y/N]!" Robin insisted - and in retrospect, you'd realize she'd insisted a bit too intently, but you weren't thinking of that now.

    What you were thinking of was how in Heaven's name were going to survive the entire three-hour drive up to the cabin, alone with Steve Harrington.

    Your best friend, your bat-wielding protector, the sole object of your desires - Hell, he was the only crush you'd ever had, and even after so many years, your affections for the man still ran as deep as ever.

    "Robin says they'll meet us at the cabin tomorrow." Steve asked, holding the phone away from his face as he turned toward you, head falling to the side, hair bouncing over his face. "That okay with you?"

    "T-That's fine." You reply with a nod, staring at the lock that had fallen over his forehead, and you prayed he hadn't picked up on how your voice had cracked.

    "You owe us, Robbie." Steve replied gruffly, but you knew there was no bite to his words. "Seriously this time."

    "Sure, sure! Whatever!" Robin hurriedly replied; from where you were standing, you could barely make out what sounded like Argyle… shouting at someone? "Drive safe!"

    "Rob-" The line went dead, loudly buzzing in his ear; Steve groaned as he all but slammed the receiver against the payphone, his brows furrowing as he began to lose himself in his thoughts. You took a step toward him, bridging the gap that'd been left between you; your fingers were soft as they brushed over his skin, trailing over the soft hair covering his forearm, pulling him out of his own head.

    "Steve, it'll be fine." Your voice was quiet, and you hoped it'd calm him down - the last thing you needed was Steve driving up a rugged, unfamiliar mountain upset. "We'll try calling again when we get there, okay?"

    He nodded, blinking at the warm smile you gave him - your smiles were always warm, always gentle, but every time he'd be graced with it, he'd remind himself not to get too excited.

    You smiled at everyone like that, he'd convinced himself, desperate to believe it were true, that the look of pure sunshine on your face wasn't just for him - because how could it be?

    It was, but that's another story.

    You walked to his car, your pace picking up to a jog as the bitter cold sunk through your clothes. Steve beat you to it, holding the door open for you.

    "Ever the gentleman, huh?" You teased, climbing into the seat and pulling the heavy thing shut behind you.

    Had you hesitated just for a moment longer, you'd have caught how Steve burned at your words, how he'd licked his dry lips nervously as his mind froze up, hands trembling as they fisted at his sides.

    You weren't the only one with a lingering crush.

    Taking a steeling breath, he walked over to the driver's side, hands cupped over his mouth as he shut the door, working desperately to stave off the chill biting at his fingertips.

    "Ready?" The car roared to life beneath his hands, the sound a welcome comfort ahead of your long journey; you cranked the heating up to the highest setting. Again, you smiled at him, fuzzy and soft; he smiled in return, and he pulled the car out of the gas station parking lot and onto the main road.

    You'd been driving for hours.

    "You find it yet?" asked Steve, glancing at you for what felt like the millionth time as you scanned the map creased and wrinkled atop your lap, your brows furrowed in concentration as you traced your finger over one of many wiggling lines.

    "There should be a road up ahead on the left…" You mumbled in reply, flipping the map upside down, this way and that. Should you have brought a compass? "Maybe the right…? No, wait, definitely the left."

    "You sure?" Steve asked hesitantly - he'd driven through more open country roads and empty spatterings of woods than he could remember; in the dark, he couldn't even tell he was driving uphill.

    "You don't trust my cartography skills, Harrington?" Your lifted your brow, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your pressed lips. "Take the next left, then it should be at the end of the road."

    "I trust you, but this baby's only got so much gas." You laughed at him, clear and pleasant, his smile widening at the sound of it. "Here?"

    "Yeah, turn here."

    The car jumped as it crossed off the main road and onto the dirt, leading up the side of whatever mountain you were on; Steve's hand flew out to hold you down before he could think to stop himself, and you clung to him as the jolting continued on, both of you only relaxing when the cabin finally came into view.

    And, boy, was it a view.

    "Robin got us this?" You exclaimed, gaping at the expansive cabin before you, eyes sparkling as Steve turned the interior light on. "This is amazing!"

    "It's a cabin." Steve shrugged, and your head snapped to look at him - he sounded… unimpressed? "What? I think it's nice." You rolled your eyes at him and climbed out of the car; he followed closely behind, insisting he carry your bag, ignoring your protests against it altogether.

    As though the outside of the cabin wasn't impressive enough, the inside was lavish enough that even Steve was taken by surprise. Two floors, six bedrooms, wall-to-wall log paneling, a massive fireplace across the main living room stocked to overflow with cut firewood.

    "'S it still just nice?"

    "It's really nice."

    The both of you explored the space, running from room to room, gawking at the luxurious kitchen and the equally-massive wraparound deck leading out from it. And, having taken in your fill, the two of you begin making dinner - rather, Steve was making dinner and you were relegated to chopping and slicing duty, the conversation between you lighthearted and teasing.

    Midway through your simple stir-fry dinner, seated in the kitchen, you were the first to notice the change in the weather.

    "Steve," You nudged him, and he gave you a questioning look, stopping mid-chew to look at whatever you were pointing at. "It's snowing!"

    "Huh." His brows furrow, his gaze dropping to nothing. "The weather report didn't mention snow."

    "It shouldn't be too bad, right?" You tried to reassure him - and yourself, too - as you followed his train of thought. "They'll make it by tomorrow, for sure."

    "Yeah, for sure…" Steve didn't sound too convinced, but you didn't push the conversation further. Seeing as how he'd made dinner, you volunteered to do the dishes. And, ever the good friend, he'd kept you company, even drying off and putting away whatever you'd finished washing.

    "Steve, I said I was doing the dishes…" You huffed, pulling the damp towel slung over his shoulder and giving his chest a light-hearted swat.

    "What, I'm not allowed to help?" He danced around you, snatching back the towel, and you swiveled around to reach him; he lifted the towel far above your head, well out of your reach, laughing as you tried to jump for it.

    "Steve Harrington, give that back!"

    "Just let me-"

    Stricken mid-sentence, the lights flickered.

    You froze - you both did, Steve's arm an instant vice as he held you against his chest. Neither of you spoke, neither breathed as you listened for the tell-tale sounds of danger, of an unholy nightmare resurrected. You buried your face into the solid safety of his chest, clinging to his shirt as his eyes scanned the room. Several painful, heavy minutes passed before you slowly began to feel him relax, his hold on you loosening ever so slightly.

    "Let me go check the power…" he mumbled, his reluctance palpable as he left you alone, all but running down the hallway to where he'd remembered seeing a breaker box. Throwing it open, he flicked through every switch, yet the cabin remained shrouded in darkness.

    Shutting the panel door, and rounding the corner back into the kitchen, he narrowly missed being hit across the eye by the empty vase you'd commandeered as a weapon.

    "Whoa! Watch the face!" He jumped back, falling out of your swinging range. "The power's out. Snow must've knocked down a line or something." He explained, voice assured, and you sagged in relief at his words, hands visibly shaking as you set the vase back atop the counter. Without missing a beat, Steve stepped toward you, taking your hands in his own, enveloping them, his touch silently pleading you to look at him.

    "Hey," His voice was buttery-soft, gentle in a way he only ever used with you. "There's nothing here. It's just us."

    You shake your head, swallowing dryly, your head falling to your chest as you steadied the erratic beating of your heart. "Y-Yeah, you're right."

    Steve nodded, calling forth every fiber of his being to let you go, to lose the warmth he'd found in your touch. Together, you'd made the most of things - you remembered seeing a box of candles in one of the closets, a pack of matches tucked away between them all, and in no time at all, the living room was bathed in the flickering, golden glow of over a dozen flames. You sat atop the supple leather couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you watched Steve light the logs in the fireplace.

    You were cold, your hands tucked against you, the tips of your toes already feeling numb - and from the way Steve rubbed at his arms, he'd felt it, too.

    "Should we… uh…" You tried to ask, your own embarrassment shriveling your words before you could get them out, hands shaking as you tugged anxiously at your fingers. "I-I mean, it's cold, and the fireplace-"

    You gave him an exasperated look, but Steve - bless his athletic soul - wasn't following.

    You groaned, dragging your hands through your hair as you blurted out, "We should sleep here."

    "On the floor?"

    "Yes, Steven, on the floor." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his shock. "We can take a couple blankets and make a bed. It'll be warmer here than in the bedrooms."

    Steve turned away from you, staring into the cackling fire. To you, he was considering what you'd said, his expression pensive, almost blank - to him, he was failing to quell his boiling panic at the thought of having to sleep with you… beside you? Whatever - either way, you would be much too close to him and he was not prepared. There were only so many rooms - and therefore only so many blankets - in the cabin, so he knew you wouldn't be able to make two separate beds.

    He had to sleep with you.

    "I-I mean, you're right…"

    You gave him a confused look. "...But?"

    Steve took a deep breath, turning back toward you, and he swore you could see the way his heart pounded in his throat. "No, nothing." He stood up, brushed off his jeans, tried for his best smile - which came through as more of a lopsided grin, but that's beside the point. "Let's get those blankets, huh?"

    Between the two of you, you were proud of the bed you'd made, cozy under the pile of blankets and pillows; splitting for a minute, you both readied for bed, changing into your pajamas, brushing your teeth in the kitchen - Steve sensed your lingering unease at being in there, so he stood closer to you than he normally would, his hand finding the small of your back as the two of you walked back to the living room.

    "Which side do you want?" You asked him, suddenly feeling shy at seeing him in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants and an old Hawkins Phys-Ed shirt - and, unbeknownst to you, your clothes were having the same effect on him, your oversized shirt reaching your knees like an old nightgown.

    "Doesn't matter." He pulled at the drawstring of his pants, suddenly intent on looking everywhere but at you. "I'll sleep like a rock, anyway."

    You snorted a laugh and crawled into your side of the bed. "Yeah, and you'll keep me up all night with your snoring."

    "I do not snore!" Steve exclaimed, and you laughed even harder at him, obviously having touched a sore spot. "I don't!"

    "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Steve." He gave you a withering look, and you collapsed in a fit of giggles - nervous giggles, but he didn't need to know that. He shook his head at you as he crawled in under the blankets, close to you yet still keeping a respectable distance.

    "Candles stay on?" He knew what your answer would be, but he asked anyway, his chest tight as you nodded.

    "Unless it bothers you-"

    "Doesn't bother me, sweetheart." He froze, his breath catching - he'd overstepped. Called you the wrong thing, gotten too comfortable. He waited for you to shake your head, to roll your eyes at him and turn around.

    But, nothing came.

    Steve watched, hands itching from the ferocity of his fraying nerves as you nodded, quieter than usual, curling up on your side as you continued to face him. He laid on his side, toward you, hands bunching the blanket up to his face as he tried to relax - not that he'd be getting much sleep around you, but he could pretend, for your sake.

    Minutes pass, the soft sputtering of the candles a soft harmony to the loud, almost rhythmic cackling of the fireplace. Even in the muted light, you notice Steve trembling beneath the blankets.

    He was cold.

    "Steve?" you whispered, moving closer to him, the sudden drop in temperature making your stomach flip. "Steve, are you okay?"

    "Hm…?" His eyes are slow to open, his voice much more tired than it had been mere moments ago; he'd curled up tighter - you just barely felt how his knees were tucked up to his chest. "What?"

    "You're shivering." You continued to inch closer, your body all but touching his, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember how to move. "Why didn't you say anything?"

    "I was fine before…" he grumbled, shaking his head, his jaw clenched to keep you from hearing his chattering teeth. "'M fine, just go back to sleep."

    You gave him a hard-pressed look, gaze narrowed at the top of his lowered head; before you could convince yourself to do otherwise, you began to fumble about beneath the blankets. Steve cracked an eye open to watch, only to catch you flinging your shirt somewhere off to the side.

    He swallowed audibly, his mind racing - and crashing - as he felt your arms envelope him, your chest pressed to his with only the thin barrier of his shirt between you.

    "[Y/N], w-what are you-"

    "Body heat." Your answer came quickly, much to his surprise, your hands leaving smoldering trails as you rubbed them over his back. "You need to stay warm, Steve."

    He nodded, two thoughts about you dominating his mind:

You were much more selfless than you gave yourself credit for.

You weren't wearing much of anything under that shirt.

    He tried to think of something to do, something to say, but the unfiltered heat radiating off of your skin was too enticing, too overwhelming. He tried getting closer to you, chasing your warmth, but something felt off; something was holding him back.

    In a flash, he'd tossed his shirt aside, the aged fabric landing somewhere near yours.

    "Steve-"

    "Body heat, right?" God, he hoped he didn't sound too breathless. "We can keep each other warm."

    You weren't about to fight that logic, were you?

    He shuffled closer to you, arms settling loosely around your waist, the frigid feeling of his hands trailing over your bare skin sending a shiver through you. Between you, you'd moved your hands up - almost as a buffer, ridiculous as that seemed. But, now you were in a new predicament - your fingers wove through the matte of hair on his chest; you could feel each curl, each wisp as he breathed, your touch both featherlight and branding. His head fell to your shoulder, and his arms tightened over so slightly around you.

    "How are you so hot…?" Steve asked; his head shot up, and you were given an excellent view of the blush spreading up his neck as he quickly amended, "Warm, I mean. Shit, I- You're really warm. N-Not that you're not hot-"

    You giggled, the movement brushing your chest against his, pulling out a gasp from somewhere deep within him that he'd just barely managed to catch. "You're not half-bad yourself, Harrington." Feeling you relax, he tried to do the same, leaning further into you, the scent of your citrus shampoo lulling him into a pleasant sort of halfway-sleep.

    "Uh… H-Hey, Steve…?" He could hear your voice, distant and somewhat muffled, and he grinned against the comfort of your shoulder. "Steve, are you awake?"

    "Yeah…?" He peeled open his eyes, pulled away enough to look at you, confused for only a moment as he tried to follow the way your gaze flicked to the space between you - and when he did, he stopped breathing, his stomach dropping to his half-thawed toes as he sprang away from you, his scalding face clear in the candlelight, hands pressed tightly between his legs.

    "Shit! I- Goddamnit, [Y/N], I didn't… I swear, I wasn't-"

    You watched on, stunned silent as Steve worked himself into a whole-hearted frenzy, shaking as he desperately tried to explain away why he'd gotten hard sleeping with you.

    "Was that… is it my fault?" You couldn't help yourself - here you were, sharing a bed with the man of your dreams, who'd gotten painfully aroused with you in his arms. Your words were barely above a whisper as you continued, "Are you like that because of me?"

    Part of you wished you'd disappear, another thinking of what you had within arm's reach that could be used to tear your own tongue out because who in their right mind asks something like that? You stared at him, lip worried between your teeth, eyes catching the light like a million stars in the night; Steve realized he was at an impasse - you both were.

    It was now or never.

    "Yeah, I… I am."

    Nothing could have prepared you for his answer; you felt as though the floor had collapsed beneath you, turned to quicksand and swallowed you into its grainy depths.

    "Steve-"

    "I like you, [Y/N]."

    You couldn't help the gasp that tumbled past your lips, nor could you quell the sudden flood of tears swelling in your eyes. His words flew around in your head, dominated your thoughts, demanded every ounce of your attention.

    I like you.

    I like you.

    I like you.

    "[Y/N], don't… don't cry- Shit, I didn't…" He'd moved back to you the instant he'd caught the first tear, his arms wrapping back around you - he'd kept his hips turned away from you, the angle awkward, but you didn't notice. "C'mon, baby, I'm sorry-"

    You shook your head, your breathing hiccupped, stuttered as you wiped at your dripping face. To his surprise, you'd laughed, the sound as wet and sodden as it was bubbling.

    "Steve, I'm not… I'm not upset." You tried to tell him, reassure him, meeting his concerned gaze through glossy lashes.

    "But, you're crying-"

    You took his hand in both of yours, held it between your bodies like a tether between souls; he could feel your pulse through your palm, quick and solid and strong.

    "[Y/N]-"

    "I like you, too, Steve."

    He barely believed what he'd heard - you liked him? You'd reciprocated his feelings? The crush he'd been achingly, lovingly nursing since high school was… mutual?

    "Y-You… You do?" He hated how insecure he sounds, how hesitant and uncertain he was; you gave him another blinding smile, dropping your hands as you pressed your bare chest to his.

    "I do." You thank the Heavens above that your voice hadn't wavered - he heard you clear as day, the fluttering he'd feel whenever he was near you now a full-on avalanche of jittery emotion. "I… uh… I have for a while now."

    "Really?"

    You nodded, hiding your face into a lump of bunched-up blanket.

    "How long have you…?"

    "You first." You insisted, your stomach in knots at his shy smile.

    "Since freshman year, at least." Steve replied smoothly, his confidence returning in drips and splashes - it was better than nothing, he'd conceded. "Never thought you'd give me a chance, though."

    "God, I've liked you since, like, fourth grade…" You'd groaned into the blanket, goosebumps running over your body as you caught his soft exhale.

    "Seriously?" He couldn't believe it - you'd been hiding your feelings for him for almost a decade?

    How had he not noticed?

    You'd pulled your head up from the blanket pile just enough to look at him, and you both collapsed into a fit of nervous, giddy laughter, the little space left between your bodies shrinking away. Steve was the first to settle down, staring into the depths of your eyes with the look of a man drowning in his love; he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear as your legs tangled together, his rough and pleasantly scratchy against yours, and he waited for you to quiet down before asking, 

    "Is this alright?"

    His hands were at your hips, his thumbs running over the thin elastic band of your underwear. So elated were you, you'd almost forgotten about his… situation.

    Almost.

    Calming yourself, you shifted, slowly pressed your body to his - your hips firm against him - as you nodded, cheeks pink as his rock-hard length throbbed against your stomach.

    "[Y/N]?"

    "Steve, I…" You couldn't bring yourself to ask for what you'd wanted - but, God, did you want to. Lord knows you did. Your head fell to his chest with a quiet groan of frustration, but he understood all the same.

    "[Y/N], look at me."

    You lost yourself in the endless depths of his eyes, your only thought to keep breathing as he reached for your hand.

    "If you don't want to, tell me to stop."

    He watched every flicker of emotion on your face, every expression, every feeling play out in vivid detail; he brought your hand - so small in his own - to the throbbing between his legs, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your fingers around him, holding him through the soft material of his sweatpants.

    "God, Steve…" You whispered, giving him an experimental squeeze, your body sweltering with heat as he moaned - it was quiet, just barely louder than an exhale, but you'd heard it all the same.

    You had done that to him, brought him to this, and you ached for more.

    "Take it off." Your tongue poked out to swipe at your lips; he swallowed at the movement, every nerve in his body alight, aflame at the feeling of your hand around him. "Please."

    He didn't need to be asked twice.

    In a single movement, Steve pulled off his pants, chucking them somewhere across the room; you gasped as you realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath, naked as the day he was born.

    You looked at him, he nodded, and your hand was on him again.

    God, Steve thought, his head pressed to your shoulder, breathing heavy as you began to stroke him, it's never been this good before. All you'd done was touch him, and he could already feel himself begin to unravel, his stomach coiling with his building release.

    You stared down between you in open-mouthed awe, feeling the weight of him in your hand; he actually keened when you'd brought your other hand to cup him, pushing his hips into your grip, chasing more of your touch - of you.

    "B-Baby…" He barely recognized his own voice from how weak he sounded, his hand shaking as he wrapped it over yours, stilling your movements. "Baby, please, I… I can't-"

    Your hands flew off of him, raised up to your chest, a pang of fear seizing your chest at the thought of having hurt him. Were you moving too fast, your grip too tight? "Steve, I-"

    "No! No, sweetheart, it's… It's not you, I swear." He pulled you close, buried his nose in your hair, his voice quiet with embarrassment as he continued, "If you keep doing that, this'll all be over way too fast."

    You giggled at him, your smile broad and beaming as he moved away to look at you, going stiff in more ways than one as you brought his hand to your chest; he could feel the thrumming of your pulse beneath the softness, keeping pace with his own.

    What, like you hadn't heard about his boobies monologue from Robin?

    You felt his fingers twitch against you, desperate to squeeze, but he held himself back, restrained himself.

    "I won't break, y'know."

    God, you were going to kill him, he swore, shaking his head, a nervous grin stretching across his lips - and it was then that he paused, his hand stilling over you as the shameful realization dawned upon him.

    He hadn't even kissed you yet.

    Where's your game, Harrington?

    He'd gone shy on you again, you noted, feeling how his breathing turned slow and deep. "Steve?" You brought your face closer to his, hands at his jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks as you urged him to look at you. "Steve, do you-"

    "Can I kiss you?"

    Your silence stretched out for what, to him, felt like hours. Had he pushed you too far, assumed too much? Was kissing too personal for you? His first instinct was to backtrack, to make amends, and he hurriedly mumbled, "I-I mean, it's fine if you don't-"

    "Do it, Steve."

    Your words were clear, demanding in a way that made him shiver in anticipation. Slowly, carefully, he trailed his hands over the softness of your waist, pulling you flush against him, his length trapped between your thighs.

    "You want me to kiss you?" He needed to hear it from you, needed you to say it, to know you wanted this just as much as he did.

    "Please."

    Of all the times you'd imagined kissing Steve, of daydreaming about what he'd feel like, nothing could compare to the real thing; you melted against him with a sigh, arms settling around his neck as you pulled him impossibly closer, every pore on your body screaming for this moment to go on, for him to kiss you like this forever.

    And for Steve, kissing you was a miracle - he'd long since resigned himself to wanting you from afar, to watching you from the sidelines, content with the way things were. He didn't think he'd ever gather enough courage to confess his feelings to you, terrified of losing one of the closest friends he's ever had. But, now?

    Now that he's tasted you, he's insatiable.

    He was the one to deepen the kiss, to lean into you, press his body against you, throbbing between your thighs and hissing as his sensitive head caught on the fabric of your underwear. You pulled his hands back to your chest, his tongue tracing over your lip as you pulled off the lacy thing and tossed it aside.

    Your kiss had started saccharine, gentle, coy, but it had devolved into something carnal, primal, fueled on by years of pining and longing and want.

    "[Y/N], can I…? Can- touch you?" Steve panted, his words beginning to fail him, his hair already damp with sweat as it fell over his eyes. You pull one of his hands away from your chest, biting back a moan at the feeling of his calloused palm dragging over your nipple; you guided him between your legs, your breathing labored, eyes clenched shut.

    When he touched you, you screamed.

    Painstakingly, sobbingly slowly, he worked you open, his pride growing tenfold as he felt how wet you were, how slick his fingers were quickly becoming as they moved over you - and all because of him. He brushed his fingers lightly over your clit, his touch barely a touch at all, yet it drove you nearly to the brink of insanity.

    "S-Steve…!" you cried, screamed, no longer caring about the volume of your voice as you ground your hips against his hand, fingers clawing at his back. "Mmm…! Fuck, Steve…!"

    "Talk to me, sweetheart. How's it feelin'?" The closeness of his voice, of his lips pressed to your ear did absolutely nothing to veer you away from the edge of ecstasy you were barreling toward. You could feel him circle a finger around your dripping entrance, teasing you, your body writhing atop the blankets.

    "S… Steve, please…!" You shook in his arms, your face buried against his chest as you begged him for more - and when he finally pressed his finger into you, you both moaned.

    You were so hot, so tight, around his finger, sucking him in, your velvety walls pulsing against him - he could feel his cock weep as he imagined what it'd feel like to be inside of you.

    "Hmm…! A-Ah- Shit, Steve, I…!" Your head began to swim, your breathing rough as he worked you, one hand holding you by the hip while the other thrust into you, his thumb pressing down on your throbbing clit all the while.

    "Where you at, baby?" he panted, his focus breaking away from the sinful squelching coming from between your parted legs.

    "'M close, Steve… Fuck, I- I'm so close…!" You threw your head back, your body arching off the floor as Steve's kept his pace steady, looking very much satisfied with himself as you fell apart in his hands; with a final, trembling moan, you collapsed, panting for air as the sweet thrill of aftershocks shot through you; absentmindedly, you could feel him slide in behind you, holding you against his chest, hands moving idly over your sex-warmed skin.

    Still, even in the rose-colored haze of your mind, you knew you wanted more.

    "[Y/N]?" Steve watched as you turned around in his arms, pulling him into a sloppy, wet kiss. It didn't take much for him to turn to putty in your hands, and he offered no resistance as you nudged him onto his back, legs straddling his hips. "Fuck, baby, I…" he breathed, eyes wide as his gaze moved over you in reverence - bathed in the candlelight, flushed from the bliss he'd given you, he swore you never looked so beautiful.

    You moved your dripping core over his cock hesitantly - unlike Steve, you had no prior experience to draw from. Did it feel good when you pressed down on him? When you sped up? Slowed down? You stared at where your bodies connected, not realizing Steve's eyes had clenched shut, sweat beading down his brow as he tried to keep himself from losing it.

    "Sweetheart, please, I…" Steve moaned, his hands leaving you to drag through his hair. "You're killin' me-"

    "Yeah?" you panted, pushing more of your weight down onto him, your heart soaring at the litany of curses that fell from his lips - and even a few that weren't in English. "How's it feel, pretty boy?"

    At the name, you felt him jump against you, and you swore on your mother's life you'd never seen him flush so red.

    It was as though the very room had gone still, the snow outside ceasing to fall, your breath catching as you lifted yourself off of him; holding him in your hand, you lined him up with your entrance, your eyes shut as you tried to calm your nerves, but you paused at the feeling of hands running over your sides, gentle and soft against you.

    Steve looked up at you, cheeks bursting with color as he held you steady, an unspoken question clear in his eyes.

    Do you want it?

    You nodded, your lips breaking into a smile as you kissed him - and all at once, you pushed yourself down, crying out at the feeling of him stretching you, filling you.

    He was big, and you were loath to admit that the rumors you'd heard about him all throughout high school were true - he deserved to be called "King Steve".

    You fell against him, shaking at the sudden intrusion as his hands soothed over your back, your waist, your thighs, your face, guiding you down onto him, whispering praises into your ear.

    "You're doin' so well, baby. You're so good to me, taking me like that… Fuck-!"

    You were struggling to breathe, face pressed against the crook of his neck as you waited for the pain to melt away - and Steve waited with you, peppering your face in kisses, his hands smoothing over your hair.

    "Do you want to stop?" he asked, his voice softer than silk, his concern washing away the lingering traces of your discomfort. You shook your head, biting your lip as you pulled away from him, wiping at the moisture clinging to the corners of your eyes.

    Steve felt his stomach drop. "[Y/N]-"

    "I'm okay." you reassured him, your voice all but gone, eyes fluttering shut as you settled back against his hips - he'd buried himself completely into you, the feeling of you enveloping him almost too much. He waited for you, for your sign that it was alright to move - because once he started, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop.

    You accustomed yourself to the feeling of him inside of you, thick and hard and throbbing. "S-Steve…" you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. "You can… You can move-"

    And you fell over when he snapped up into you, breaking out into fits of bright, sparkling laughter.

    "[Y/N]!" Steve couldn't help but laugh, too, feeling your walls squeezing around him. "Baby, you alright?"

    You nodded, still smiling as you threw your arms over your heated face.

    "Keep going, Steve…" you sighed, peeking at him from between your fingers - and his heart swelled, leaning over to kiss you stupid as his hips pounded into you, one of his hands moving down to your clit, rubbing you in time with his thrusts.

    He wasn't going to last - he knew he wasn't - but he'd be damned if you didn't finish before him.

    Your mouth fell open with a wanton moan, hands fisting the blankets at your sides as he gripped your hips roughly enough to bruise, his pace already beginning to falter. He kissed you everywhere he could reach, covering you in his love, his breathing coming out in grunts as he felt himself nearing his end.

    "Baby, I- I'm so fucking close-"

    "Steve, I- Ahh…! I can't…! Steve, please, I'm…!"

    And you reached your peaks together, screaming as you throbbed around him, as he painted you with his release, your bodies sticky as you collapsed onto the blankets, chests heaving for air as you floated back down from the Heavens.

    He was the first to speak. "You still with me?" Steve asked, still winded as he rolled onto his side, his hand moving up to roll a lock of your hair between his fingers - you still smelled like citrus, like sunshine and light.

    But now you smelled like him, too.

    You turned your head to look at him, eyes lidded, your grin blissfully lopsided as you kissed him - gently, sweetly, relishing the feeling of his chapped lips, of the warmth of his breath over your face. "I'm still with you, Steve."

    "Yeah?"

    "Always."

    He pulled you into his arms, his face pressed to your neck; you nudged yourself against him, exhaustion settling over you both like the falling snow.

    Before you'd drifted away, you heard his voice, quiet and meek as he whispered, "I love you."

    Your hands moved over his chest, and you kissed him one final time before falling into oblivion, your sigh of, "I love you, too." barely slipping past your parted lips, Steve chasing after you.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Yearning || Phillip Graves x Fem!reader

Word count - 2.1k

Summary - inspired by @rors-grvs 'diet mountain dew' fic! But involving Graves instead, their writing is amazing you should go check it out!

Warnings? - READER IS OVER THE AGE! just for clarification thank you :() also it's a fem!reader this time I'm sorry if anyone identifies differently 😞 I promise I'll start doing more neutral stuff. Also this could potentially get a part 2 if you're interested! VERY LIGHT SMUTTY ASPECTS IM SO SORRY I FORGOT ABT THAT

Tag list : @sarahs-secrets2 :))

✮

"I'm sorry," his voice drawled into the speaker, "Repeat that for me, doll?"

You were huddled up in your room, hands clasped over the phone as if it were going to leap out of your reach. You couldn't get enough of it. His voice.

".. Nothing.", you whispered back, trying to keep composure. It wasn't even yours - you wouldn't want your dad questioning why you had his number, his best friend's number.

"No, no, you've pulled me in now. How come you're getting all shy?", he let out a breathy chuckle, barely heard from your side of the call.

".. Are you laughing at me?", you couldn't help but smile.

"Hm.. Maybe.. I don't see why you don't just come on over and find ou-"

"Y/N! I'm going to need my phone back now!", your dad was now calling from the hallway. Shit.

You had told him you were looking for birthday presents on his phone - God, what would he say if he knew what you were doing?

"Okay- bye-", you cut yourself off, now dropping the phone into your lap.

Your dad came in, smiling, "Did you have a good look?"

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll find something great for me anyways.", you got up promptly, handing him his phone back.

"Well, I've got to head out and pick up a delivery. You okay on your own here?"

"Oh, that's the thing, Dad... Is it okay if I go over to see Phillip? He's got this dvd that he was gonna show me.", you were lying through your teeth and it felt like pure tar coming out of your mouth. You couldn't help it though, it would probably be for the best if your dad never knew.

"Of course, sweetie. Do what you're doing and I'll see you later.", he left.

♡

The door clicked open, Phillip instantly taking up the space in the doorway as he made eye contact with you.

"Hey, doll.", he smiled.

His dirty blonde hair was brushed to the side as usual, but today he was wearing a dark polo shirt which clung to his biceps as he crossed his arms over his toned chest.

"Hi.", you didn't know what to say; your heart was still racing from your almost scandalous phone call not so long ago.

"Why don't you come on in?", he moved aside, making way for you.

You walked inside slowly, taking cautious steps on the smooth marble. Phillip was acting as if he didn't remember, as if the phone call never happened. You didn't know how to react, but decided it was best to just go with it.

"My dad's just gone out to.. Get something for me."

"Yeah, I heard it's going to be his little princess' birthday soon.", he followed after you, you could feel his eyes wandering from the folds in your shirt to your jeans.

You didn't realise your dad still referred to you as that, it felt so embarrassing to hear Graves mention it. You hadn't been called that for years.

"Well... I'm hardly l-little anymore.", you sputtered, laughing nervously as you took a seat by the kitchen island. You rested your elbows on the counter and had your eye on Graves as he leaned against it.

"Is that so?", he turned to face you, smirking ever so slightly.

"... Yes.", you were at a loss for words in the presence of this man.

"Well, you want anything special for your birthday, doll? My treat.", Graves' tone was friendly, inviting and genuine. He meant it.

"No, it's okay, Phillip.", you smiled at him, fidgeting with your nails. Calling him Phillip was reserved for times when you were both alone, it was much more warmer and felt quite personal to you.

"Okay, I'll just keep it a surprise then. I can't just not buy you a birthday present. It would be out of line...", he continued to mutter to himself as he walked off, presumably into the living room.

You eyed him curiously, before frantically reeling your gaze away from his ass - he looked really good in those pants.

"Come on! I need some help with something." he called out, which made you jump and follow him curiously. It was obvious he lived alone. Heck, he was probably the only lonely person on this street, everyone else had a family or at least a spouse. Many figured it was due to his job; being stationed all over the world and having to run off whenever he was called was inconvenient for a spouse.

It never bothered you though. It was only until you started making advances that he caught the idea and would play along, until he'd have to leave for awhile - which could range from a month to around a year. The last time you'd been speaking before this week was last year's 4th of July party. As the fireworks went off, you two were hooking up in the nearest bathroom.

Sometimes you wished one day he could even get called in and never come back. You knew how horrible it was, but sometimes you wondered if it would continue. It's only a little fling, you would tell yourself repeatedly, pacing around the room as you could hear it on loop. It was so bad to think, but the thought of telling your dad about this someday was the only thing that kept this thought strong and you hated it.

As you entered the living room, Phillip was perched by the cabinet in the corner of the room. The door was wide open as piles of CDs towered over one another, the plastic covers shining as the light reached them for a considerably first time in awhile.

"I've been needing to go through these ever since I got back..", he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze shifted from you to the CDs.

"Oh, sure.", you complied, now eyeing the CDs properly and scanning through the titles. God, he had a lot of classics.

"I'm sorry, the Evil Dead?", you turned to him, holding the CD in your hand accusingly in his direction.

"Hm? Oh, I never liked that. My colleagues kept talking about it once so I picked it up and watched it. Too bloody.", Phillip shrugged, taking it in his hands and tracing his fingers over the cover. "I'm keeping it."

"What?", you raised your eyebrows, amused by his contradiction, "You just said you didn't like it."

"True, but.. It's good memories.", he cast a fond smile at it before shelving it once more.

You narrowed your eyes and rested your hands in your hips, "I don't suppose you're going to say that for all of them."

"What? No, of course not."

"Okay." you let out a sigh, "You asked me to help, so I'll help."

♡

It had been over an hour and the two of you had managed to go through all the DVDs in the cabinet. A huge black bag was now filled to the brim and the cabinet was half empty, looking somewhat respectable now.

You had been holding your shirt up to your nose for most of the process due to the unbelievable amount of dust that coated some of the CDs. However, that didn't stop you from ordering Phillip on which DVDs he had to drop. The way he pouted almost swayed you, but you kept an iron fist and commanded him through the whole process.

You also noticed how he had been looking at your exposed stomach due to you pulling up your shirt slightly, the glint in his eyes were carnal.

Both of you were now laid back on the couch, trying to catch your breath. You had your arms rested loosely at your sides, but Phillip laid his over his chest, fingering the fabric of his polo softly as he was looking out onto the backyard through the window.

"How.. How was that?", you didn't move, but could feel his position shifting as he was about to answer.

"Quite nice actually..", he murmured. It was quite rare to see him so.. Calm? Was that the word? He seemed so vulnerable in this moment that you felt as if one wrong move would disrupt it.

"Oh, that's good..", you smiled, your breathing was still shallow and a little unsteady from all that heavy lifting.

"I don't suppose you.. Have to go now..", he was pausing to take small breaths, still looking away from you.

Shit.

You hadn't checked your phone the whole time you were here.

Trying not to change the mood, you picked it up smoothly and switched it on.

You have 0 notifications.

You couldn't help but sigh as you fell back into the cushions.

"No.. I'm fine, I can stay."

"Good.. Good..", you could hear him learning into the sofa more as he had a hand on his chin. He was thinking, but about what?

"I just wanted to.. Talk about that phone call earlier.."

Oh.

Oh.

The sofa creaked a little. He was moving closer now.

A warm hand slid around your shoulders, fingers tracing over your collarbone lightly.

"Doll, you know I like to tease at times..", his voice was husky and low, you could feel his hot breath on your cheeks.

"Mhm..", you let out a whisper, avoiding eye contact so you didn't have to meet his almost ravenous gaze.

"I.. I just love seeing that damn look on your face.. The way you laugh at me.. It's all quite cute, really, and it's been making me think.."

His other hand reached to cup your cheek, you could feel the callouses and bumps that have been worn into his palms overtime. He stroked your cheek, tilting his head slightly to get a better view of you.

"I just wanna know how cute you'd be in my bed, that's all.."

Blush was creeping up your cheeks at an alarming rate, you could feel your face getting hot, your throat becoming dry and your hands aching to unbutton his restricting polo.

"What do you say, doll?"

You couldn't help but nod, before swallowing and blurting out, "Yes, God yes-"

You wrapped your arms around his neck suddenly and kissed him. Hard.

He reciprocated, pushing against you as his hands were now sliding up your shirt and hastily unclipping your bra.

You gasped, letting out a quick, "Phillip!", feeling him smirk against your lips as he was now cupping your breasts with his bare hands, making you almost melt at his touch. You've been waiting for this for too long, nothing could stop you-

A sudden ringing from nearby.

You both instantly sprang away from one another, whipping your head around frantically to find the source.

Your phone.

Your dad was calling.

Your eyes widened as you answered and held it to your ear, Phillip resting his head on your shoulder, his hand was now on your thigh.

"Oh, hey Dad.."

"Hi, sweetie, bad time?" God, its like he almost knew.

"No! No.. Uhm, what's up?", you sharply inhaled, feeling his fingers tracing up and down your leg.

"I just wanted to see if you were still with Phillip, I've gotta ask him something."

You froze in your seat, before remembering how you had told him you would be here. This whole fiasco was like an undercover mission.

"Oh.. Yeah.. Here.." you chuckled weakly, holding the phone up to him.

Phillip cleared his throat, still caressing your thigh, he responded, "John, what's the matter?"

As he spoke to him on the phone, his hand was getting closer and closer to the button on your jeans. He was grinning smugly as he talked, not even looking to see your reaction.

"Oh, no need to worry, I'll have princess home soon.", before you knew it, the call had ended and he wasn't moving.

Phillip turned to look at you, fondness could be detected in the way he was eyeing you.

"Doll..", he rasped, smiling weakly, "You need to get on home now."

".. What?", you sat up straight, trying to ignore how hot his voice was.

"I don't want your daddy thinking anything... Wrong.. Is happening."

Your heart raced, "Does he know-"

"No, no..", he pressed a finger to your lips, "I just.. I think it's best for you to head off now."

He was lying and you knew it.

You could see the dejected demeanour as he guided you to the door. You could definitely see the bulge he was now sporting as a result of you.

The door slammed behind you just as you started to leave. You already knew he was finding a way to get rid of that. It was easy to imagine; Phillip pacing the tiled floor, cursing under his breath as he probably stripped down to take hot, steamy shower.

Oh God, it's so weird to live so conveniently close to a really hot guy.

You're sure your birthday barbecue will be much more interesting.

[bella-rose29]

Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader: Not Your Lover - Chapter 1

This will be a new series I'm writing! I'm going to aim to post a chapter once a week (there may be other things in between) because I have no idea how much time I'll have to be writing now that I'm back in the real world (🥲), but hopefully I can stick to that.

Taya isn't a real place, I made it up and I suck at naming things (that goes for the title of this as well, but I may end up sticking with it like with Arranged Marriages who knows).

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, sexual harassment, barely proof-read

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @simbaaas-stuff

Nikolai hadn't slept last night, and now he was regretting getting up and going into town.

Everything was too loud for his aching head, and by the time he'd made it to the mechanic, he was ready to keel over and fall asleep right there.

"Can I help you, mate?"

Nikolai looked up, seeing a man in greasy overalls step through the back door.

"Oh, uh, I'm Dominik, here about the job?"

"Right, right, come in. Sorry about this," he gestured to himself.

"Don't worry about it, I'm used to getting my hands dirty, this is nothing," he flashed a smile, and the mechanic responded with his own.

"Good. Thought you'd just be another pretty boy wanting to get the girls in."

Nikolai laughed. "That's the last thing on my mind right now."

It was true, given what had happened last week. He'd had to end yet another short-term relationship because she'd cheated. Nikolai wanted something real, something more than just physical attraction, and apparently all the partners he was picking just wanted to jump his bones.

After a successful meeting with the owner of the mechanic (Fabrikator, but he didn't use his powers unless he had to) resulting in a job, Nikolai made his way into a mostly empty coffee shop, hoping for some quiet and a very large cup of tea.

He'd used his best friend's name as a cover while he was here in the small port of Taya, not wanting to be swarmed by people hoping for the ex-King of Ravka to be their friend, or heighten his chances at being assassinated. While he might not be royalty anymore, he was still a valuable body with a large sum of money on his head. He hoped that Dominik didn't mind the use, but he figured that he could just go by 'Nik' anyway. He'd used a version of his father's last name as well, deciding that 'Lantsov' would be too much of a giveaway.

"Here you go, sir, enjoy," the waitress said, delivering his tea to his table.

"Thanks." He took a sip, relishing the warmth, and the bell on the door tinkled lightly as two women walked in. Nikolai felt the air leave his body as he took in the younger of the two, not quite understanding how one woman could be as stunning as the one in front of him was.

"I'm just saying! It could be good for you!"

"Ugh, it's not going to be good for me, mum! When has having a boyfriend ever helped me?!"

Interesting.

"I just think that instead of running around trying to get this grant, you should be focusing on your future, settling down, having kids!"

"Well maybe this grant is my future, mum!"

The whole conversation (argument?) had progressed into loud whispers, glances being cast around the small space to check that they weren't disturbing anyone. Nikolai was confused, wondering what the grant was and why the woman's mother couldn't see how much it meant to her daughter. Surely a compromise could be made?

The pair left a few minutes later, taking their drinks with them and having moved on to other topics of conversation.

Outside, Nikolai could see the town getting set up for the summer faire, gazebos and bunting being put up and lights being strung for when it got dark. Everything would kick off tomorrow afternoon, and Nikolai was looking forward to celebrating with everybody.

~~~

That night, after spending most of the day in the mechanic's shop working, Nikolai stumbled back home, exhausted from the sheer number of people that had come in needing things fixing. He understood now why Gregor had wanted Nikolai to start working so quickly, but looking around at how many people were actually living in Taya, there weren't many. Tourism wasn't big here either, which was understandable given how tiny this place was, and there was only one hotel (which Nikolai was staying in for the time being) that felt more run-down than the abandoned mansion overlooking the town square, and that was covered in ivy and half falling to pieces. Apparently somebody was trying to fix it up, but given how many people had been hit on the head by a falling beam (four, he'd been told, which was apparently too many for the small population), everybody was reluctant to help work on it.

Finally reaching his room, Nikolai fished out his key and, once inside, slumped onto his bed. It was lumpy, and the sheets were too thin, but it was better than being on the streets. He could have allowed Zoya to pay for a place for him, but he'd wanted to live life as he would have done were he raised by his real father, and given how much he'd enjoyed being Sturmhond, being unknown for who he truly was, Nikolai was happy to go off with a small sum of money to pay for his first few nights, get a job, and go by the name Dominik Opus.

It took him a while to get to sleep, despite how tiring his day had been, and while he tried to drift off his mind kept wandering back to the young woman in the coffee shop that morning, trying to remember what she'd looked like.

~~~

"Hello? Hello? Gregor? You here?" a female voice asked, and Nikolai looked out from under the carriage he was fixing. He recognised it, although were from he couldn't remember, and pushed himself out and up, wiping his hands on a cloth (that wasn't much cleaner than his hands) and turning around.

"Gregor's gone out, just me," he said, then stared in surprise at the woman in front of him. It was the one from the coffee shop, looking somehow more beautiful than she had the day before.

"Oh." Her face filled with mild disgust, and Nikolai wondered how bad he looked. "Well, I'll come back later then."

"I could take a message for you? Or you could hang around? He said he'd be ten minutes basically ten minutes ago, so he should be back any second now."

"I'm good, thanks. Bye."

Well that was rude.

Nikolai frowned, wondering how such a gorgeous woman could be so horrible, when he heard laughter from outside the mechanic.

"You been waiting long?"

"No, no! Seriously, don't worry about it! Here, the box you wanted."

Oh, so she could be nice to Gregor, but not him?

"Thanks, remember, if you ever need anything-"

"Be sure to ask. Yeah, I know. Oh by the way, who's the new guy?"

"Dominik. Goes by Nik most of the time. Why'd you ask?"

"He looks like he won't take it seriously, and I didn't want you to have to take the fallout for accidentally employing another fuckboy."

Ah. That's why she didn't like the look of me.

"It's not gonna happen again, alright? And he is actually good at what he does, for somebody who's not Grisha."

"Ugh, fine. But when this inevitably comes back to bite you in the ass because he's left you to fend for yourself while he goes around every woman in the village, don't come crying to me, Greg."

"Very specific situation, but sure. I'll see you later? I assume you'll be at your stall?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. Hopefully mum doesn't force any more men on me while I'm there."

"You know she just means well."

"Doesn't feel that way, but sure. Bye," she said, and Nikolai saw Gregor waving as he came back into the shop, box in hand.

"Who was she?"

"Y/n L/n. I'm friends with her mother, who's on the town council. Didn't seem to like the look of you much, did she?" He laughed, putting the box to one side. "She's not a big fan of people that look like you, so try not to take it personally. And she's a little frosty towards any newcomer in our town, since we barely get any tourists. I'm sure she'll be happier tonight at the faire, so don't worry too much about it."

"What's she do?"

"Owns the bakery next to the coffee shop." Nikolai knew the one (literally The One, since there weren't any others in town). "Really good baker, too. Shame there's not enough money in this place to keep all the businesses going. But," he shrugged. "People always need things fixing and can't be bothered to do it themselves. How's the carriage coming along?"

~~~

The afternoon was swelteringly hot, with it coming up on the height of summer, and working in the shop was horrible. Far too many people came in with things needing fixing, and while Nikolai and Gregor were glad for the extra footfall, most of the customers were women, having obviously broken something deliberately and wanting to see Nikolai.

One woman was particularly interested, and when she got to the front of the queue that led all the way out of the shop and down the road, Nikolai recognised her as the older woman from the coffee shop this morning, and Y/n's mother.

"Are you single?" she immediately asked. "Not for me, I'm married, not that some of the women here care. It's for my daughter, you see. She says she doesn't want a boyfriend, but personally I think the two of you would look brilliant together, hmm?"

"All fixed, have a nice day!" Nikolai passed back the clock that he had fixed within about two seconds (a loose cog in the mechanism), shooting her a wide smile that he hoped didn't show how badly he wanted to go home. Her smile faltered slightly, then came back twice as strong than before, leaving Nikolai a little blinded.

"I hope I'll see you at the faire tonight, my daughter will be helping me with my stall!"

"I'll be there," he responded tiredly, eyeing up the rest of the line and estimating how much longer he'd have to be here.

"Excellent!"

She walked off, a spring in her step, and Nikolai wondered how such a chipper lady had such a miserable daughter.

I suppose they don't get on too well, he thought, remembering the conversation they'd had in the coffee shop the morning before.

"I hope I'll see you at my stall," the next woman in line purred, pushing her chest forward into Nikolai's face, and he immediately wished he were anywhere but here.

~~~

Y/n was exactly where she wanted to be.

She had been trying for months to get a grant from the town council to do up the abandoned mansion in the square, hoping to turn it into both a bakery and a library with rooms at the top for people to stay, but with her mother in the top position and refusing to budge until Y/n had a boyfriend (she shuddered), there was no hope in sight.

After yet another talk from her mother about how finding a boyfriend might just be what she needed, Y/n had come to the mansion, and felt immediately calmed by the building. The creaking of the timbers wasn't exactly reassuring, but she'd had this dream for as long as she could remember, and being so close to actually achieving it meant that she was happy here. She'd be much happier with a grant, of course, but that wouldn't happen unless she got a boyfriend. She was absolutely certain her mother would already be eyeing up the blond fuckboy from the mechanic, thinking up wild ideas on how to get the two of them together, but he looked so perfectly like he was bad news that Y/n didn't even want to go there.

She sighed, sitting down on the crumbling wall that was definitely a safety hazard and pulling out her notebook. If she couldn't bring her ideas to life, she could at least draw them out (or write them down, her diagrams were atrocious sometimes). All around, people were getting their wares out for the summer faire, the one time of the year that Taya had any kind of tourism, and the narrow streets were already bustling with excited customers. Colourful bunting had been strung across the walkways, held up by lampposts and people's balconies, and lights were mingled in with the strands. Things would properly kick off at five bells, only half an hour away, and Y/n was dreading having to spend four hours next to her mother, no escape as she pointed out every single man within a fifty mile radius.

For now, she sat on the wall, coming up with new ideas or elaborating on old ones for when she finally got the grant (no boyfriend included), occasionally people watching.

~~~

Three hours later, Y/n wanted to go home.

Her mother had done exactly as predicted, and had, in an incredibly non subtle way, convinced every man that came to their stall that Y/n was the best they would ever do, and they should give her a chance.

While Y/n agreed that she was most certainly the best that they could do, she didn't want any of them to be giving her a chance, she just wanted them to buy the pastries that she'd spent the morning preparing. Being the only bakery in town, their produce was in high demand, so they had set up just outside their actual shop to keep a steady stream of baked goods coming to the stall. She was just creating an escape plan when she heard a squeal from her left, and immediately knew that she wasn't going anywhere since her mother had found 'the perfect man' as she put it. Turning, Y/n groaned at the dark haired man in front of their table, and immediately turned back to her right. That wasn't any good either, since the blond fuckboy was stood there.

"Oh, hi!"

He was too smiley, and so obviously one of those guys that would ruin her life, trying the nice guy act in an attempt to win a girl over. He'd probably had everything handed to him because of his looks.

"Hi. How can I help?" His smiled dulled a little at her lack of enthusiasm, but credit where credit's due, he was not backing down.

"One of these, please," he replied, pointing at a loaf of bread. She nodded, bagging it up, and should have realised what was going to happen when his eyes flicked over her shoulder in surprise.

"Is that your mother?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"She's uh... she's really going for him, huh?"

Y/n turned around again (she'd get dizzy if this kept happening), then almost dropped the bag at the sight of her mother chatting up the dark haired man from before, pointing at Y/n.

"I thought she was married? At least, that's what she said this morning."

"Why did you see my mother this morning?"

"She came to the mechanic with a very obviously not broken clock."

"She is married. She's trying to get somebody to date me. I think that's why she's so focused on my love life, because she has this perfect love story and thinks she can replicate it with me. Five vlachka, please."

He handed over the money, taking the bread from her in return.

"Is that why she won't give you the grant? Wait," his eyes widened. "That sounded creepy, I'm sorry. I just heard you in the coffee shop the other morning, and then Gregor said that she was on the council, and I just put that together and if I assumed wrongly then I'm sorry." He seemed apologetic, hands waving frantically.

"My personal life is none of your business. Thank you, goodbye." She was annoyed at how close he was to the truth.

~~~

Nikolai had spent the last half an hour eating his loaf of bread along with a selection of hams and cheeses that he'd bought, combined with glaring at Y/n from where he sat on a bench. He knew that he'd overstepped a boundary in asking the question, but he'd been curious and nothing more, and she had been so brusque in turning him away that it irked him. He understood that she might not want some random guy she'd never met before snooping into her private life, but she could have said it a bit more nicely than that. Nikolai had always believed in being nice to people, no matter how much you wanted their head on a chopping block, because you might be burning bridges before they were even built, but then again he'd grown up in a life of politics, and Y/n had grown up in the quiet port town of Taya.

Watching her interact with other customers was making Nikolai's irritation grow; she seemed to have very little problem with being nice to them, so why couldn't she do it around him? Gregor had mentioned that she didn't like people that "looked like Nikolai", but what did that mean? And why was she judging a book by its cover? Maybe once she got to know him, she'd find that he was actually a pretty great guy to be around. That might be his ego talking, sure, but Nikolai had spent his life learning how to be what people wanted, and it was annoying him that he couldn't figure out what Y/n wanted to see. One thing she definitely did not want to see was single men, coming up with excuses out of nowhere to fend off every one that was sent her way by her mother. Nikolai was sure that he was right, and that Y/n's mother didn't want her starting this venture unless she had a partner, and that was why she hadn't gained the grant. He'd also seen the state of the building, and knew that it was likely that her mother was concerned about how much of herself Y/n would put into this project, thinking by the time she was done there would be no time for grandchildren. He didn't know if Y/n had siblings, but assumedly her mother had expected little ones sooner than this, and time was running out.

Frowning as yet another man was sent Y/n's way (and told to leave by Y/n), Nikolai didn't notice the young woman coming his way until she was practically sat on him she was so close to him on the bench.

"Hi, handsome, not seen you around here before." He recoiled at her tone of voice and at the fingers she was trailing up his arm, doing his best to not look too disgusted.

"Moved a couple of days ago," he replied, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Where you staying? Because I've got room in my bed, if you like?"

"I'm alright, thank you. You'll get tired of having me there. Terrible nightmares that lead to me waking up screaming bloody murder. You'd never get any sleep." He smiled apologetically, hoping she'd get the hint.

"I wasn't planning on doing much sleeping, to be honest. But I'd be happy to comfort you if that's what you need?" Her fingers were still dancing on his shirtsleeve, and Nikolai was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

"Really, I'm fine."

"Aw," she pouted, and Nikolai didn't think he'd seen anything less attractive. "You are single, aren't you?" Sensing an out, Nikolai shook his head.

"Sorry, taken man. I think that dark haired guy is free though," he pointed at the man that had been at the bakery stall earlier, then packed up his things to leave.

"Who are you with? If you've only been here a couple of days then it can't be too serious, right?"

Nikolai didn't bother giving an answer, hoping she'd leave him alone. When she stood up to follow him, he internally groaned. His eyes darted around, searching for anybody that could help, and when he met Y/n's she grimaced.

"Need help?" she mouthed, pointing at the woman clamping down on his arm. He was surprised at her actions, and nodded. When she only shrugged and turned away, evil smile on her face, Nikolai huffed, then made a decision.

"Hi, darling. I'm gonna head back, alright?" Y/n whipped her head around to look at him when he tapped her shoulder, and immediately he felt the woman's grip loosen on his arm.

"What?"

"I second that, what?!"

Her mother was involved now, coming over excitedly as she let herself indulge the possibilities.

"I said I was gonna head back, darling," he repeated, a wicked glint coming into his eyes that thankfully her mother didn't notice. Y/n was glaring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be twelve feet under in a ditch, but she'd left him for the wolves (well, wolf), so now he was throwing her to the lions. Served her right, really, for not being nicer. At least this way she might get her grant, and he could get rid of this woman (who was still hanging off of him).

"You're together?" her mother asked, clapping her hands with joy. Nikolai nodded, frowning slightly.

"She didn't tell you? Darling, why didn't you tell her?"

He was enjoying this a little too much, but if it meant that she got a taste of her own medicine and he was left alone by all the other women, it was worth it.

"I didn't realise this was a thing, sweetheart," she ground out, not that her mother noticed. "Hello, Evelina. Pleasure to see you, as always. Get off my boyfriend before I dropkick you into next fucking month." She smiled sweetly, but malice was in her eyes, and Evelina left within seconds. "You sure you want to go back? There's so much to do!" Now her voice was cloyingly sweet, dripping with fake emotion.

"I've had a long day, and I'll have to be up early tomorrow. The faire's on for the rest of the week, so I'll have plenty of time to do the things I've missed."

"I have so many questions!" her mother chipped in. "When did this start? How did you get her to go out with you? Are you in a serious relationship? Have you had sex?"

"Mother! Saints!"

"Really only yesterday, it was incredibly difficult and I essentially bribed her, I'd like this to be serious, and no we have not. I like to get to know my girlfriend before I go there." At Y/n's snort, he glared at her, pinching her in the ribs. Her mother didn't seem to notice (yet again), too happy that her daughter was finally in a relationship.

"Well," she started, sighing happily. "Y/n, come on down to the town hall tomorrow morning for the meeting, and you just might get that grant!" Y/n's eyes widened, and she didn't say anything until her mother had walked away to serve a customer. Then she appeared to snap out of her daze, grabbing Nikolai by the arm (why did women keep doing that?) and dragging him into a back room in the bakery.

"What, the actual fuck, are you doing?!"

"Helping you and helping me," he shrugged in response, rubbing his upper arm where she'd grabbed him.

"How is this," she gestured furiously between the two of them, "helping either of us?!"

"Helping you, because you do need your mother to give you the grant, and the only way that would happen is if you got some great love story. Helping me, because I'd rather we didn't get quite so many people coming in to the shop with time-wasting repairs. It drives away the bigger customers. Also I think she wanted to eat me alive."

"Evelina? Yeah, she would have done. And you know what? I was content to let that happen."

"Oh I know you were, given you asked if I needed help and then shrugged and left me to fend for myself!"

"Ugh, you are a pain!"

"That's the best you can do?"

"I can think of many other words for what you are, all of them worse."

"Let me know when your brain thinks them up, yeah?"

"Fuck you."

"What, right here? Little bit risky, isn't it?"

"Saints! Do you even hear yourself? You are insufferable! Which is exactly why you need to go out there and tell my mother that you lied, and we are not together, and she needs to stop interfering with my life!"

"If I do that, you don't get your grant. I'll help you work on the building if that makes you feel any better, since nobody around here will, but if I go out there and tell your mother the truth, you can say goodbye to ever getting that mansion."

She paused then, blank expression on her face. Nikolai made to move towards the exit, and his hand was about to push the door open when she sighed and said "Wait." Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed again, looking everywhere but at him. "Fine. But we only go along with this for as long as I want to. When I think I have enough from the council that I don't need their support anymore, then this stops. If we cut things off within the week, mum will suspect something, and she'll call back the money. We need to be careful, we need to be smart, and you need to not make me want to kill you, because I'd much rather explain this whole situation than why I need a bag and a shovel and a plot of land."

"Understood."

"I still don't quite get what you're gaining from this, but I won't complain. Also I want the free labour you offered."

"It wasn't free labour that I offered, I'm expecting a little compensation for my time. And I said, it stops the unnecessary repairs and means that Gregor and I can work on the bigger stuff, like carriages for fancy people."

"I'm not paying you. I've gotta use all that money on repairs and shit, so you can take your compensation and stick it up your arse."

"I was thinking more 'make sure you feed me', but fine."

"Oh," she blinked, clearly taken aback. "I can do that. I'm not cooking for you, though. You can do that on your own, dickwad."

"Dominik."

"What?"

"Dominik. Nik for short. It's my name. If we're going to pretend that we're dating, it might help for you to not call me 'dickwad'."

"Oh," she said again. "Makes sense. Y/n is fine. Anything else, I get the shovel."

"Got it. I think I might actually go back," he started, feeling the unease creep up his spine.

"You can't leave me here! Not on my own! Do you have any idea how many questions she's gonna ask me?!"

"Well where do you live then? I'll walk you back, then she can't get upset, right?"

Y/n considered for a moment, head tilted to the side.

"Fine, but don't get any ideas," she pointed at him. "I know how to make sure you never have children."

"That's... okay. Let's uh... let's go?" He hadn't meant for it to be a question, but he was taken aback by her previous statement. She nodded, grimacing slightly as she took the arm he had offered up. "You don't have to look quite so disgusted at the thought of having me as your partner, you know."

"Yes I do. You're not my type in any way, and I can't believe this is happening oh Saints." They'd stepped out, and immediately her mother had come over, asking a million questions.

"Mum! We're gonna go home, okay?"

"I'll walk her back, Mrs L/n," he smiled, and she immediately flapped her hands.

"Please, call me Y/m/n, since we're family now! I want to hear all about this," she waved her hands at the two of them now, "tomorrow after the council meeting, alright?"

"Of course, Y/m/n," he said, and he could practically feel Y/n rolling her eyes. He led her away, heading off in the direction she pointed him in, and tried to push the dread that was working its way through his body. "Where do you live again?"

"Not far. Next street, halfway down. I'm not too far away from the hotel."

"Okay."

She frowned, looking up at him. "You look kinda ill, are you okay? Asking purely because I don't want you throwing up on me."

"I'm fine," he swallowed. "I'll be fine." They fell silent after that, and not long after they came to a stop in front of a gate.

"This is me. Don't come back here or I'll stab you with my kitchen knives. Bye."

Saints, she was weird. And not particularly welcoming either. Nikolai watched her up until she was inside and he heard the door lock, then started walking towards the hotel.

The demon had other ideas.

He'd been trying to force it back down since the bakery about ten minutes ago, but now it wanted out. Nikolai couldn't be sure that it wouldn't go and terrorise people, and while he and the creature sharing his body had some sort of understanding now, he didn't know if he'd be able to control it if it went crazy. Finding a dark alleyway (probably not the best idea, but he had both the demon and his guns if anyone tried anything), he let it out, panting at the effort. It growled at him, clearly unhappy at having been suppressed, and Nikolai gave it the middle finger.

"You couldn't have waited a little longer, huh?" It tilted its head, studying him, then rummaged around in the rubbish in the alley. "Disgusting. You're disgusting, eating that." He huffed, then folded his arms and stood at the entrance, keeping an eye out for anyone that might be walking past and see the demon. He'd be screwed if that happened; everybody had heard about the king that released a demon upon the Fjerdan ranks a few months ago, and there was no chance that he wouldn't be recognised then. He wasn't sure how long the pair of them lingered in the alleyway, but by the time the demon was done, allowing Nikolai to take it back in, he was exhausted, and very grateful for his bed. It didn't take him long to fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamed of her.

Chapter 2

[shinestarhwaa]

NEON || Choi San

Genre: Smut

Pairing: San x Male reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings/tags: San is readers best friends brothers, non idol au, top/dom!san, bottom/sub!reader, unprotected sex, m x m, namecalling (slut, whore), degrading kink (reader has a serious degrading kink holy fuck), size kink/reader has a smaller dick (fucking loves it tho), dirty talk, filth!!, hairpulling, San is hella rough, dickslapping, eating out, use of a sextoy, saliva as lube, praise,

Tell me if I forgot anything

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @veronicasawyerschainsaw @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Let me know if you wanna be on my taglist❣️

ENJOY!

(welcome to hell)

-

Your legs wobbled nervously, looking at the broad, muscular and naked man in front of you. The neon lights of your room shone on his bare skin.

How did you get this lucky?

-

You had been crushing on San for years now, your brother's best friend since high school. He had a cheshire smile, cat-eyes and the cutest dimples you had ever seen. He had gorgeous black hair, tan skin and his broad shoulders sent you over the moon. You developped a crush not long after meeting him, and it just got worse everytime you saw him. He got older, more handsome, broader, sexier, sweeter even.

But San stole glances at you too. He scanned your body from top to bottom (ha.), and let his hands wander over your body when no one was looking.

One night your brother went to the bathroom and you and San ran into each other in the kitchen, where he stood behind you and ran his hands over your ass, squeezing it. If your brother hadn't walked in, he would've let his hands slide to your front. You had thought about it countless times by now.

And now, it was a year later and you ran into him at a party. It didn't take long before he kissed you when you danced together, his hands feeling up your body. As you were home alone for the weekend you decided to take him home.

You had stumbled through the house to get to your bedroom, your neon lights still turned on. He had laughed. Found it cute.

He found you cute.

And now here you were. A smirk played on his lips as he walked closer to you. Your legs wobbled nervously, looking at the broad, muscular and naked man in front of you. The neon lights of your room shone on his bare skin. How did you get this lucky?

San had undressed himself so quick you could barely process it. ''You look so cute darling... Why don't you take off your shirt and pants for me?''

''Yes, San,'' you nodded, obeying quickly and taking off your sheer t-shirt and ripped jeans, leaving you in your black underwear and fishnet thights you wore underneath your jeans. ''Call me sir, little one,'' he smirked as he ran his hands over the material of the fishnets, pulling it slightly. ''You like dressing up like a slut, don't you? You just wanna be used, right?''

You nodded vigorously, cock already hardening in the black panties you wore. ''Look at that...,'' San smirked, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your hard dick. ''You look so pathetic right now, look at that gaze of yours... You just wanna be ruined by me hm? Want me to stuff you full with my big cock? Want me to wreck you? So pathetic...''

''Yes, sir, please, use me, fuck me, degrade me, I'm your slut,'' you whined when his fingers grazed over your nipples. ''Degrade you hm? How much?''

''A-as bad as you want, I'm all yours, take me... please sir!'' you begged him, falling on your knees in front of him, leveling your face with his girthy length. ''Alright, alright there, little one, don't bruise your pretty knees for me... or should you?''

You nodded again. Not being able to hold back, you licked San's shaft from the bottom to the tip, dipping your tongue into his slit. ''Jesus, fuck,'' he hissed as he grabbed you by your hair. ''What are you doing, babyboy? Do you think you can just touch me like that? You think you can just do whatever you want?''

You shook your head, swallowing thickly as you saw his eyes darken with lust. He yanked at your hair which caused you to yelp, and threw you back on your bed. ''I'm the one in charge here, baby, understood?''

San raised his eyebrow as he roamed his hands over your thighs. You couldn't answer, you were completely drunk on San. You felt a hard smack against your dick, making you whine out loud. ''Answer me, am I understood, little one?''

Once again you said nothing, wanting to feel his hands on you again. He grunted, slapping your dick again. Your dick wobbled, pre-cum leaking from the tip. ''Fucking brat,'' he said, slapping it again, and again until you couldn't take it anymore. You teared up and whined, ''Sorry sir, please, I'm sorry, you're in charge, y-you're in charge!''

''That's right, I am,'' San said as he ripped your panties off your body, making you gasp. ''San, those cost-''

The look in his eyes made you shut up immediately. ''You don't listen very well, do you, baby?''

''N-no, I can listen, I listen well, please, don't slap me again, sir!'' you begged. San smirked. ''You enjoyed it though didn't you?'' San asked, ripping the crotch of your fishnets for better access. ''Y-yes but it hurts,'' you pouted, bringing out your puppy eyes. San's gaze softened lightly and he nodded. He spread your legs and ripped your thights further, exposing your awaiting hole.

''You're gonna be a good boy for me now, hm?'' San asked as his head dipped between your thighs, spreading your asscheeks apart and licking a stripe over your puckering hole.

''Y-yes, sir, I'll be good, please,'' you whined as he teased his tongue around your rim. You felt his tongue drag from the bottom to the top, plunging into your tight hole. San wrapped a hand around your cock, pumping your length slowly as he fucked his tongue into your hole, sending you into a state of ecstacy.

''F-fuck San- n-no I mean sir, fuck, more,'' you whined into your hand that covered your mouth. San's hand reached for yours, pining it down so you had no choice but to let out your moans.

After pleasing you like this for a few minutes he stopped and smirked. ''You sure open up easily, babyboy, do you fuck yourself so much, hm? I bet you do... Bet you split yourself open on a big fake dick every night huh?''

You nodded eagerly, revealing the big glass dildo under your pillow, surprising the elder boy. ''Shit baby, you are full of surprises,'' he smirked, taking the dildo from under your pillow. ''You take this thing in your little hole every night? Fuck yourself dumb, hm?''

''Y-Yes, sir, and I always imagine it's you. I imagine it's you using your cock to fuck me open. I imagine you fuck me while I have my small little dick inside my hand spilling my cum all over my chest, while your big dick empties inside of me,'' you moaned, chest heaving as San cupped your balls, massaging them gently.

''You want that huh? Want my big cock in your ass? And you wanna play with your pathetic little dick?'' San smirked, teasing the tip of the dildo against your hole after spitting on it, coating it with his own saliva.

''Yes sir, yes sir please, I need it!'' you whined as San hovered above you, aligning his cock with your own, your mouth watering at the size difference. ''Oh my god, sir, you're so big,'' you moaned, moving your hips against San's.

His smug smile and the drop of San's pre-cum dripping on your stomach made your eyes roll back. He entered the dildo inside you, pushing it deep into your hole. You let out a scream, feeling pleasure spread in your body as San hit your prostate with the toy.

''Oh fuck! Y-yes that's so good!''

''Yeah? You like that huh? That big shaft in your tiny little hole? Feeling my big cock on your little one huh?'' San sped up the pace of the dildo, earning a scream rippling from your throat. Little beads of sweat were dripping from San's forehead as he rutted against your pelvis.

''Fuck, Sir, fuck me! F-fuck me, please,'' you begged. ''Fuck you, hm? Did you deserve it?'' he asked, making you look at him by gripping your chin tightly with his fingers. ''Yes, fuck, yes! I'm so good for you sir, forever your good boy!'' you whined. ''Forever my good boy huh? Well I guess you deserve it then.''

San removed the dildo from your hole, tossing it somewhere behind him. He spat in his hand, spreading his spit over his thick shaft. ''Please,'' you begged, palming your crotch. ''Don't touch yourself, let me be the only thing... the only one to make you cum.''

The mood had seemed to change. He became more possessive, but his gaze still softened. He looked at you with a hint of admiration, rather than just lust. the mix of pink, blue and purple neon lights lit up your sweaty body, colouring you in vivid colours. ''You look perfect like this,'' San said before he entered you and gasped loudly. He filled you perfectly as he started pounding his cock into you deeply.

''Oh my God, yes! S-sir, yes, yes, fuck me, o-oh, oh yes!''

Moans fell from your lips like a stone rolls from a hill. It kept on coming, the pleasure that San gave you kept on coming. It was snowballing, making you feel the familiar sensation in your lower abdomen, knowing you were so close to cumming.

San tightened his grip on your hips as he fucked into you. ''You're so good for me baby, so beautiful, taking my big cock like that,'' he moaned.

''Sir, Oh god, I'm so close, San, Oh!''

''Yes, moan my name, moan my name, moan. my. fucking. name!'' San grunted in your ear as he pounded into your tight hole, aiming at your prostate. San's hips didn't faltered once, keeping his strict rhythm, not giving you a single break.

He threw his head back as he felt his orgasm creep up on me. ''Moan my name baby, fuck, you're gonna make me cum,'' he groaned, ''scream for me, who makes you feel this fucking good?''

''San, San, SAN!'' you screamed loudly, your orgasm washing over you, squirting your cum onto your stomach as San also climaxed, releasing his semen deep into your hole, painting your walls. The two of you panted heavily, riding out your orgasms together, sharing kisses while whining and groaning into each others mouths.

San pulled out and took place next to you, holding you in his arms. ''You were perfect,'' he whispered. He smiled softly, revealing his dimples. ''You were,'' you breathed out, ''we need to do this again, I want this all night long, please,'' you begged.

''I'm not denying you that, my prince.''

[priafey]

AO3 Twenty Questions

tagged by @ladytanithia. a big thank you, as always!

tagging @inkoherentwriting, @azures-grace and YOU, dear reader

(copy/paste for the questions below the cut)

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

Four, not counting the work I published as a reference list for my OCs.

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

84,627

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Just TES:Skyrim for the moment. Sadly, I haven't been able to play any of the other games just yet.

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm dying for Among the Many Lost Souls to surpass Sought and Found. It was my first venture into longform writing and it shows. Bleh.

5 – Do you respond to comments?

Almost always. If I don't respond, it's usually because I tried my darndest and couldn't think of a constructive or meaningful response.

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The one I'm writing right now :3c (Among the Many Lost Souls). I'm putting Gwilin through the wringer and then I'm gonna hang him out to dry.

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sought and Found, I suppose.

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

No, I don't. I lowkey wish I did. Firstly, because haters can be remarkably perceptive, and, secondly, because I am as interested in what makes someone scrunch up their nose or click away from my fic as I am about hearing people's thoughts on what was well-executed about them. I think my stuff is too niche to really draw a lot of negative attention (right now, at least).

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Always, my man! I consider it my moral duty to make my characters fuck nasty. Why? BECAUSE IT'S HOT DUHHH

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

People who write crossovers scare me so bad. I can barely limp my way through having to structure a plot around already-existing lore and making sure everything that happens in the story is congruent with in-universe rules, meanwhile there are people out there writing Skyrim x The Walking Dead crossovers. It's cocobananas.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know. I don't really give a fuck if people steal my shit. Fighting with someone over authorship of a work that is principally riding on the coattails of an existing IP, which can't even be monetized, mind you, feels like a real 'race to the bottom' situation to me. I'm well aware of the quality of my work and I'm proud to have the drive to constantly better my skills. That's all that matters.

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Though I did start translating Sought and Found into Spanish, I dropped it when I started writing Among the Many Lost Souls. In any case, I would be so, so touched if someone decided to translate a fic of mine.

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

Also nope. Never tried collaborative writing outside of an academic setting. Totally open to it, though!

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uh, I'm not real big on shipping existing characters. I mostly just think about my OCs, or my friend's OCs, with each other. Aside from Gwilin x [pretty much every other NPC in Skyrim], I think thoughts about @abstractredd's guys, Hedgrod and Athrar, quite often.

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Fic-related WIP? Just one. I wanted to write another romance fic (like Sought and Found) featuring a netch farmer who's a cowboy-type character. Sexy Dunmer with a southwestern accent. Brokeback Mountain: Morrowind Edition. You get the picture.

I might still finish it, but I'm reluctant to even touch it because I haven't played Morrowind, and would have to do a real deep-dive into everything related to Dunmer in TES lore to write it. I know a lot already, but I never feel like I know enough, y'know?

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm good at setting a scene and painting a picture. This is, I think, a new ability I acquired in the past year or so. I've also been told my smut-writing abilities are pretty good, which is always nice to hear :) If I had to list what I consider to be my own strengths, I'd add that I've gotten a lot better at cutting the fat out of my writing (especially from dialogue tags and in describing facial expressions and body language).

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue is a bitch a half for me to write. It's probably the thing I most obsessively tweak before publishing. I think my dialogue tends to fall short.

Pacing is another issue. I often criticize, in other fic author's works, that they present an interesting image or idea and then leave me hungry because they don't elaborate on it, but I am the biggest culprit of this if I don't constantly remind myself that, yes, people want to hear more about this or that. They want you to mystify it, justify it, make it sexy, make it like a puzzle for them to solve. You can't just leave it cut-and-dry, much as my autism compels to do because "It's quite literally saying the same thing". Like, that's great, bestie, but you have to elaborate! Say the same thing just make it sound cooler than it is!

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

This is cool. I don't mind busting out Google Translate to enjoy a fic. That mouse-hovering feature that lets you add alternative text to a fic on ao3 is super useful for this sort of thing.

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

My first, and only other, fandom: My Little Pony. I was 12.

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

I love them all for different reasons, BUT Among the Many Souls has blood and sex and drama in it, so yeah. It's in the lead.

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 – Do you respond to comments?

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16 – What are your writing strengths?

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 19: Matt

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warning/Tags: None for this chapter.

Word Count: ~ 3600 (Catholic weddings are LONG, y'all.)

A/N: The big day is here! Only one more chapter to go...

"10 minutes until you say 'I do'," Foggy said as Matt finished getting ready for his wedding to Y/N. "I'm honestly surprised you two didn't elope."

Matt chuckled as he adjusted his tie. "We briefly discussed it but Y/N said she wanted to get married in the church with all of our friends and family there."

He smiled to himself. His proposal had gone off without a hitch and he and Y/N had quickly set a wedding date. "Maybe Aunt Ruth and I could start looking at wedding dresses while she's here for Thanksgiving next week," Y/N had said as they lay together in post-engagement coital bliss, her head on Matt's chest as he traced gentle patterns along her bare back.

Matt had nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

Y/N had looked up at him. "What do you think about the end of April for our wedding? My lease will be up then so it kind of feels like the perfect time to get married."

A smile had spread across Matt's face. "April sounds nice. Want to call the church in the morning to see what dates they have open?"

"Mmm. Mmhmm."

They had called Clinton Church first thing the next morning and booked their wedding date for the end of April.

"5 months until we say 'I do',"  Y/N had said after they had hung up.

Matt had wrapped his arms around Y/N, his heart fluttering at the contented hum she had made. "I can't wait."

He mentally shook his head. "How do I look?"

Foggy patted him on the shoulder. "Like a man who's about to get hitched."

Matt grinned, nervous excitement flitting around his stomach. "Thanks again for your help this morning."

"Of course, buddy, anytime."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Matt?" Aunt Ruth's voice called out. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, Aunt Ruth, come on in," Matt replied, turning towards the door as it opened. 

"Oh my goodness, don't you look handsome," Aunt Ruth said. "And Foggy, you as well."

"Thanks, Ms. Y/L/N," Foggy replied.

"Matt, Y/N would like to speak with you before the ceremony begins."

Matt's blood turned to ice in his veins. Shit, did she change her mind? "Is she okay?"

"Oh yes, everything is fine, dear, I promise," Aunt Ruth reassured him. "Y/N just decided that she wants a private moment with you before you say 'I do'." 

Matt let out a breath and nodded. "Okay."

Aunt Ruth led him down the hall to another room. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

Matt nodded and took a deep breath as Aunt Ruth walked away, then knocked softly on the door. "Y/N?"

"Come in," Y/N's voice replied.

Matt opened the door and stepped inside.

He could hear the gentle swish of Y/N's wedding dress as she turned towards him. "Hi, Matty."

"Hi, angel," Matt replied, still nervous that Y/N might have changed her mind about marrying him. "Is everything okay? Aunt Ruth said you needed to talk to me."

Y/N took his hand. "Yeah, sweetheart, everything's fine. I'm sorry if I scared you, I just… I wanted to show you something really quick."

She took a deep breath. "Remember how back when we were kids, all of our personal belongings were labeled with our names?"

Matt nodded. Y/N had helped him keep track of his stuff until he was able to put Braille labels on everything.

Y/N lifted Matt's hand up to the bodice of her dress, right where her heart steadily beat. "My heart has belonged to you since the moment we met."

Matt's brow furrowed as he traced the familiar bumps of Braille writing. M-a-t-t-h-e-w.

"It's in red to match our wedding colors," Y/N explained.

A broad smile spread across Matt's face and he shook his head, fighting the urge to start crying. "I really love you, you know that?" 

Y/N let out a light laugh. "That's good to know, sweetheart, especially considering that we're supposed to be getting married in less than 5 minutes."

Matt grinned. "I better run then. I don't want to spend a minute more than I absolutely have to without you as my wife."

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Matt nodded. "I'll be waiting."

"Love you."

Matt slipped out of the room and headed back down the hall.

"Hey, everything okay?" Foggy asked him as he re-entered his own waiting area.

Matt nodded, unable to keep a smile off of his face. "Yeah, everything's perfect."

Foggy let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. Ready then? It's time."

Matt nodded again. "More than ready."

"Alright, let's go get you married."

He and Foggy headed into the church and took their places at the front of the altar, and a few moments later, a soft melody started playing.

Matt waited as Father Davis took his place as officiant, followed by Karen as Y/N's maid of honor, then Harley, Y/N's coworker Jessica's son, as ring bearer and Sophie as flower girl.

He took a deep breath as the doors opened once again and the Bridal March began.

A smile spread across his face as Y/N began her walk towards him.

As she approached, Matt thought back to that first moment they had met. He had immediately known that she was the answer to his prayer, but he hadn't quite realized at the time that he had also been hers.

He held his hand out to Y/N as she reached him, pressing a kiss to the top of her hand before turning to face Father Davis.

"Good afternoon," Father Davis said.

"Good afternoon, Father," everyone replied.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness Matthew and Y/N join together in holy matrimony. Let us begin with our opening prayer."

Y/N and Matt bowed their heads as Father Davis raised a hand over them. "Dear Heavenly Father," he began, "we ask your blessing down upon Matthew and Y/N as they pledge their lives to one another through the sacrament of marriage. May they look to you for guidance in all that they do, in your name, amen."

"Amen," everyone repeated.

"Please be seated."

Matt and Y/N knelt hand-in-hand on the portable kneeler as everyone sat and Aunt Ruth walked up to do the first reading.

"A reading from the Book of Genesis," she began. "The Lord God said, 'It is not good for man to be alone. I shall make a suitable partner for him. So the Lord formed out of the ground various wild animals and birds of the air'…"

Matt subtly turned his head towards Y/N, who was glancing over at him. 

He gave her hand a squeeze, their silent signal for I love you.

Y/N squeezed his hand back twice in response. I love you too.

"The word of the Lord," Aunt Ruth finished.

Matt turned his attention back to the lectern. "Thanks be to God."

Everyone answered the responsorial psalm, then Foggy walked up to do the second reading. 

He cleared his throat. " A reading from the first letter from St. Paul to the Corinthians.

'If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

Matt smiled to himself. By that definition, Y/N was love, and Matt was the luckiest man on earth by getting to have her for the rest of his life.

"Love never ends," Foggy continued. "But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 

Faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love'."

He went to step down then caught himself. "Uh, the word of the Lord."

"Thanks be to God," Matt replied with a grin.

Next followed the Gospel Acclamation, then the Gospel.

Matt and Y/N stayed kneeling while everyone else sat for the homily.

"I haven't had the privilege of knowing Matthew and Y/N for very long," Father Davis began, "but from what their loved ones have told me, it's about time they got married."

Matt grinned and nodded in agreement as their wedding guests chuckled.

"From my understanding, they met as young children and immediately became inseparable," Father Davis continued, "as only truly best friends can be…"

Matt listened as Father Davis continued tying his and Y/N relationship to the readings.

"God has brought Matthew and Y/N together not once, but twice, and so here we are today, celebrating their love and commitment to one another," Father Davis concluded, turning towards them. "Matthew and Y/N, may you continue to love and support one another all the days of your lives."

Matt nodded and gave Y/N's hand a squeeze.

Father Davis sat for a moment in silent reflection, then stood once again. "Please rise."

Matt and Y/N stood and faced one another. Here we go.

"Matthew and Y/N," Father Davis said, "you have come together into the house of the Church so that in the presence of the Church’s minister and the community your intention to enter into Marriage may be strengthened by the Lord with a sacred seal. Christ abundantly blesses the love that binds you. Through a special Sacrament, he enriches and strengthens those he has already consecrated by Holy Baptism, that they may be faithful to each other forever and assume all the responsibilities of married life. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions."

He then went through the standard questions about whether Matt and Y/N were there of their own free will, whether they agreed to love, honor and cherish each other, and whether they would welcome any children they were blessed with, all to which both Matt and Y/N answered in the affirmative.

Father Davis nodded. "Since it is your intention to enter into the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, please join your right hands."

Matt smiled as Y/N took his hand in hers.

"Matthew, do you take Y/N to be your wife?" Father Davis asked. "Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?"

Matt nodded, a broad smile on his face. "I do."

His smile grew even wider as he heard Y/N's heart flutter.

"And do you, Y/N, take Matthew to be your husband?" Father Davis asked Y/N. "Do you promise to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him all the days of your life?"

"I do," Y/N replied, the love and adoration in her voice music to Matt's ears.

"Then may the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you," Father Davis continued. "What God has joined, let no one tear asunder."

Matt couldn't help but grin. We did it. We're married.

Foggy stepped around Matt and handed their rings to Father Davis.

Father Davis sprinkled some holy water over their rings. "Bless and sanctify your servants in their love, O Lord, and let these rings, a sign of their faithfulness, remind them of their love for one another.

Through Christ our Lord."

"Amen," Matt and Y/N said together.

Father Davis handed Matt Y/N's ring. "Matthew, place this ring on Y/N's left hand and repeat after me: ' Y/N, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity'. "

Matt took Y/N's hand and slid her wedding band next to her engagement ring. "Y/N, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity."

"And Y/N," Father Davis continued, "place this ring on Matthew's left hand and repeat after me: 'Matthew, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity'."

Y/N slid Matt's ring onto his finger, the cool metal a comforting weight against his skin. "Matthew, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity."

Matt grinned. While they were shopping for their wedding rings he had been fully prepared for Y/N to just choose a ring for him and be done with it, but instead Y/N had had him try on rings made from all sorts of materials and in all sorts of designs until Matt had found the one he was most comfortable with wearing.

You're the one who has to wear it for the rest of your life, she had said, so shouldn't your comfort be the most important thing?

He turned his attention back towards the altar as Karen walked up to do the Intercessions. "Please respond, 'Lord hear our prayer', " she said.

"Lord hear our prayer," everyone replied automatically.

"For Matthew and Y/N, may they continue to grow and love one another through the faith of their Church, we pray to the Lord."

"Lord hear our prayer."

"For the souls of Matt's father and Y/N's mother, may they rest in peace knowing that their children have found solace in one another, we pray to the Lord."

"Lord hear our prayer."

"For all those in need of intercession, we pray to the Lord."

"Lord hear our prayer."

"We now pause to add our own intentions in silence." Karen paused for a few moments. "We pray to the Lord."

"Lord hear our prayer."

Father Davis waited as Karen took her place back at Y/N's side, then said, "Let us now share the words that Jesus taught us to pray."

Everyone recited the Lord's Prayer, then Father Davis moved back in front of Y/N and Matt. "Matthew and Y/N, please kneel and join hands."

Matt took Y/N's hand in his, grinning as she ran her thumb over his ring.

"Let us pray to the Lord for this bride and groom," Father Davis said, "who kneel at the altar as they begin their married life, that they may always be bound together by love for one another."

After a moment of silence, he continued. "Holy Father, maker of the whole world, who created man and woman in your own image and willed that their union be crowned with your blessing, we humbly beseech you for these your servants, who are joined today in the Sacrament of Matrimony.

May your abundant blessing, Lord, come down upon this bride, Y/N, and upon Matthew, her companion for life, and may the power of your Holy Spirit set their hearts aflame from on high, so that, living out together the gift of Matrimony, they may adorn their family with children and enrich the Church."

"Amen," everyone added.

"Matthew and Y/N, please rise."

Matt grinned as they stood.

"By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Matthew, you may kiss your bride."

Matt turned towards Y/N and cupped her face in his hands, then pressed his lips to hers. My wife.

"It is my pleasure to present, for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Matthew and Y/N Murdock!" Father Davis continued.

Matt took Y/N's hand in his as they headed back down the aisle.

Y/N gave him another kiss as they reached the end. "I love you so much, Matty."

Matt hummed happily. "I love you too, my angel."

They made their way back around to the altar so they could sign their marriage license and take their wedding photos before walking over to the church's event center for their reception.

Matt grinned over at Y/N as they waited in the lobby for the deejay to announce their arrival. "You think anyone will notice if we skip the reception?"

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Ready to get our honeymoon started, huh?"

Matt smirked. "Something like that."

"Well considering we're the center of attention and we have our first dance, then the toasts, cake cutting and bouquet toss and our last dance… yeah I think we'd be missed."

Matt took her hand as the deejay turned the music down to speak. "...Please welcome to the dance floor, Mr. & Mrs. Matthew and Y/N Murdock!"

The doors to the event center opened and Matt and Y/N walked in, taking their place in the center of the dance floor.

Matt smiled at Y/N as the music for their first dance started. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Murdock?"

His smile grew wider at the uptick in Y/N's heartbeat. "Why, yes you may, Mr. Murdock," Y/N replied.

Matt pulled her close as they began to sway.

"I'll always remember, the song they were playing

The first time we danced, and I knew

As we swayed to the music, and held to each other

I fell in love with you

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

Could you be my partner every night?

When we're together, it feels so right

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

I'll always remember, that magic moment

When I held you close to me

As we moved together, I knew forever

You're all I'll ever need

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

Could you be my partner every night?

When we're together, it feels so right

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

Could you be my partner every night?

When we're together, it feels so right

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?"

Matt wiped away a tear from Y/N's eye as the song came to an end, then pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Every single one, angel," he murmured. 

Y/N sniffled. "Me too, Matty."

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go eat."

They had decided on a catered buffet for their reception, so they were served their dinner then went to take their seats at the head table.

The deejay turned the music down once again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the best man would like to say a few words."

Matt turned towards Foggy as he stood.

Foggy cleared his throat. "Matt, when you first mentioned Y/N way back in law school I thought you had to have been making her up -- this perfect childhood friend who you had fallen in love with but never got the chance to tell that you loved her."

Matt took Y/N's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Well," Foggy continued, "it took 16 years but I eventually found out she really did exist, and she's every bit as wonderful as you always described her."

"Aww, thanks, Fog," Y/N said.

Foggy picked up his glass of champagne. "I'd like to raise a glass to the newlyweds. Thank you for letting me be a part of your big day and I love you both -- mazel tov! "

"Cheers!" everyone echoed.

Karen gave a brief speech next, then Y/N said a few words. 

Finally, Matt stood.

"First, I'd like to thank everyone for being here to share in Y/N's and my big day," he began. "I know I can speak for us both when I say that we appreciate each and every one of you for being here to celebrate our wedding with us."

He turned to Foggy and Karen. "Foggy and Karen, we have been through hell and back together and I couldn't have asked for anyone better to stand by my & Y/N's sides as we pledged our lives to each other."

He turned back to Aunt Ruth, who sat at Y/N's other side. "Aunt Ruth, thank you for welcoming me to the family with open arms and for giving me your blessing to marry Y/N."

He smiled down at Y/N. "And finally, Y/N, my beautiful wife. I have loved you since before I even knew what love was and promise that I will show you every single day just how grateful I am that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. Thank you for loving me in return."

Everyone applauded and made "aww" sounds as Y/N stood and cupped Matt's face in her hands, pressing her lips to his. "You're determined to make me cry, aren't you?" she said.

Matt kissed her back. "Only happy tears, angel, I promise."

They sat back down until it was time to cut the cake and do the bouquet and garter toss.

Karen caught Y/N's bouquet, and if Matt purposely made sure that Foggy caught Y/N's garter so that he and Karen would be forced to dance with each other instead of around each other… well.

He just wanted his friends to be as happy as he was, that was all.

Finally the deejay announced the final dance of the evening.

Matt held Y/N close once again as the music played, then finally it was time for their big send-off.

Matt grinned as they got ready to leave. He had a surprise for Y/N and couldn't wait to give it to her.

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Creche, Part 1

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,382

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: The group starts their journey around the Creche. They realize that there's more than they can handle in the span of a day, but run into a strange traveler during their trip. Part 6 of the slow burn fic. Halsin and Tav POVs

Tags: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions, eventual smut, light angst, implied past rape/non-con, graphic description of injuries.

A/N: Halsin and Tav POVs - let's get some more pining up in here.

I decided to break up the creche into two parts since I ended up coming up with some filler stuff between Tav and Halsin and I don't want the chapters to get too long :) Part two of the creche will be out shortly!

As Tav and her companions strolled along the scenic Mountain Pass, she couldn’t keep a ridiculous smile off her face. Her conversation with Halsin from the morning was still fresh in her mind. Based on his reaction to their time together, she was fairly certain he felt something too. The thought kept her feeling giddy throughout the morning...he liked her…

Gods above, Tav. How old are you?

Halsin had insisted on staying at the camp today to Tav’s relief. She was distracted enough thinking about him right now, gods know how much worse she would be if he would have come along. He thought it would be best to let the tadpoled individuals take the lead at the Creche, giving them all a chance at purification.

An arm suddenly looped around one of hers.

“Having some pleasant daydreams, my friend?” Astarion’s sing-song voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Nothing but.”

“Yes, I thought I heard some little whispers and laughs this morning.” Astarion teased, giving her a sideways glance.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, love. I’ll be sure to wake you up next time so you don’t feel left out.”

“You’ll do no such thing! Some of us believe in getting our beauty rest.” He stuck his nose up in the air at her.

“Whoa, whoa…hold on there soldier…” Karlach had bopped her way to the other side of Tav. “Did something happen with Halsin?” Her excitement was plain as day.

“Nothing happened!” Tav couldn’t hide her smile as she said the words.

“Oh, you’re definitely lying.” Astarion teased. “So tell me, is he as well-endowed as he seems? I mean hells, the man dwarfs you and you’re strangely muscular for a high elf.”

“Astarion!” Tav shrieked, wiggling her arm free of his and slapping him a few times, his teasing grin taunting her further. Karlach cackled from the other side of her.

“That’s a yes!” Karlach barely choked out between her laughs.

“I’m telling you, nothing happened!” Tav was starting to get a little defensive but couldn’t keep herself from laughing along with them. “On my honor, we just sat and talked this morning.”

“Oh darling, I’m sure your ‘honor’ is left in bits after spending a night with him.” Astarion quickly ran out of range of Tav before she could smack him again. He ran ahead of her and Karlach, giggling hysterically.

“Okay he’s gone now. What actually happened?” Karlach was still bouncing beside her.

“What? I already told you, we just talked.” Tav held her ground.

“Yeah, but that was when Astarion was listening in. Now it’s just us girls. Tell me!” She begged.

Tav just laughed back at her. As much as she enjoyed gossiping with Karlach, something about this morning felt very intimate. It was an experience she really wanted to keep to herself for now.

“Don’t worry, love. As soon as something happens that is worthy of gushing about, you’ll be the first to know.” Tav promised. When she finished talking, she felt the slightest tingle pass through her head.

“Hey now…tell your little stowaway to mind its own business.” Tav scolded her, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips.

“Fine, fine.” Karlach finally resigned and waved her hand dismissively.

“If you all are done fooling around, I believe we’re approaching the Creche.” Lae’zel called out to the group.

They had reached the bottom of one of the large hills, the steps leading to the monastery just ahead of them. The stonework was intricate and ancient, vines had made their way into all the grooves and crevices along the outside. Many of the walls were beginning to crumble. This place was abandoned long ago. Taking careful steps and staying on the lookout for traps, they approached a large entryway. Angry voices sounded ahead of them.

Tav signaled her companions to wait a few steps behind her as she peered around the corner. There were a couple of githyanki soldiers ushering along a few halflings dressed in the garb of the Absolute. They were trying to force the halflings through the doors, but one of them turned to run towards her. She froze, praying to every god above that she wasn’t spotted. Before she had a chance to duck behind the wall, a crossbow bolt pierced the halfling’s chest, causing them to fall to the ground not 10 steps in front of her.

The two githyanki turned back toward the entrance, seeming not to notice Tav barely hiding around the corner. A large and heavy door slammed closed behind them, seemingly sealing the way into the creche.

“Any ideas?” Tav turned back around to Lae’zel.

“This Absolute has my kin on high alert. We must proceed with caution.” Lae’zel seemed more subdued than earlier.

Tav led them forward, cautiously, to inspect the doorway. Astarion was delicately running his fingers along the wall, looking for any traps or hidden keyholes that could gain them entry. He looked over at her and shrugged, apparently not finding anything. Their entire party startled as a now familiar voice glided into their thoughts.

“Your curiosity is getting the better of you. Do not let it.” The dream visitor’s smooth, ethereal voice washed over all of them. “They are hunting you! They want the artefact. They will stop at nothing to get it.” As quickly as the voice appeared, it vanished.

They all shared a look with each other, trying to decide what to do next.

“We must press on. The purification granted by my kin is our only hope.” Lae’zel insisted. As Tav looked around to the others, they seemed to be in agreement.

“Then onwards we go. There’s a broken window over there.” She pointed her chin towards a nearby panel of stained-glass windows. “Maybe we can sneak in through a back passage or something.”

*

It took them almost the entire day to find a way into the Creche. Tav and the others were somehow able to convince Lae’zel to wait one more night before going in, seeing as everyone was exhausted. Between the wine-soaked kobolds, small army of gremishkas, and the very aggressive eagles they found it was a miracle they weren’t in worse shape. Despite Lae’zel’s insistence that the Creche would help them, Tav wasn’t willing to take any chances. She had no idea what purification entailed, but she didn’t imagine it was a pleasant and easy process. Something told her that they would need every ounce of their strength to see it through.

The sun was setting behind the trees as Tav led her companions back through the twisting Mountain Pass. As she tried to remember whether to turn left or right at the fork in front of them, a mysterious traveler appeared in her periphery. He wore rather stereotypical wizard attire, right down to the pointy hat. The simple staff slung across his back boasted no intricate carvings or jewels, but somehow still managed to be imposing.

“Ho there, wanderer. Stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man.” The strange traveler beckoned her as she approached. There was something familiar about this man.

“Elminster?” Gale spoke up next to her.

Elminster…Elminster Aumar?

Surely a wizard such as himself would not be out wandering this remote wilderness…

“The very same, Gale. And a fair bit miffed he is, too, finding himself forced to expose his best pair of boots to so many miles of country road on your behalf.”

What the fuck? Why is one of the most famous wizards in the realms hiking across Faerûn to find Gale?

“I think some proper introductions are in order.” Tav said, her eyes shifting between Gale and Elminster. Gale smiled slightly at the prompt.

“Meet Elminster Aumar. A good friend of mine, but rather more significantly, he’s the most famed and respected wizard in the realms.” Gale’s voice was full of admiration. The older wizard laughed lightly.

“Am I, indeed? Most famed and respected errand boy, more like.” He shook his head softly.

Gale and Elminster continued their conversation, but Tav was only half listening. Her attention turned to her exhausted friends, each leaning on nearby rocks and trees. Wyll looked like he was ready to fall asleep any moment, his head currently resting on Astarion’s shoulder. Astarion must have been drained as well since he didn’t seem to mind the horns poking him in the face. She tuned her ears back into the lengthy conversation between the two long-winded wizards in front of her.

“Out with it, Elminster. Please!” Gale pleaded.

“Has your sojourn away from Waterdeep washed away your decorum as well as your patience?” Elminster snipped at Gale. Tav couldn’t help but smile as Gale was trapped in the wordy turns of phrase Elminster was using to essentially ask for a place to rest and have a snack.

“…Surely you won’t begrudge me a mite of rest and repast before I get ‘out with it.’” Elminster said with a huff. Tav’s smile widened.

“Yes, Gale. Where is your decorum?” She shot a teasing grin over her shoulder.

“Oh, for the love of…” He hissed before trailing off.

“Nigh on thirteen centuries old and he still thinks with his stomach. Better to indulge our curiosity at his news than Elminster’s appetite.” Gale sounded like he was fighting an eye roll.

“Very well. I suppose I’m as curious as you are to hear what he has to say.” Tav resigned. She called the rest of their party to their feet, leading Gale and Elminster back to their new camp. Tav easily picked up on Gale’s anxiety, whatever news Elminster had brought to them, she doubted it would be a helpful addition to their problems.

***

Halsin watched the horizon for hours, waiting for any sign of his adventuring party to return. It was getting late, but he wasn’t sure how long the group normally stayed out. Being alone in the camp all day gave him far too much time to think about his time spent with Tav this morning.

All day long he could still feel the gentle strokes of her hands running through his hair. The thought made him smile like a fool every time it crossed his mind. He was desperately trying to regain his focus, meditating throughout the afternoon to commune with Silvanus, reciting the steps to the newly learned ritual in his mind repeatedly so he wouldn’t lose the knowledge. Yet half the time when he closed his eyes, he only saw Tav’s face.

He felt so immature, unable to control his desires and block out distractions. Over the years he had spent plenty of time around beautiful and kind people, why was he so hung up on her? Perhaps it was because for the first time in years, he finally didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask. Here with this new group, he wasn’t looked to for every answer or for constant guidance. He wasn’t their leader, he was their friend. Or so he hoped at least.

There were also her ties to Moonrise. It had been so long since he had met another living soul who witnessed the start of the shadow curse. More than anyone he had spoken to in the last century, she understood the pain and the danger of returning to those accursed lands. With her, he no longer felt so alone, or afraid.

Scratch walked happily alongside him as he paced the edge of the camp. As the sun had just barely set, he spotted the small group of travelers making their way towards him. Tav was up front along with Gale, and there was a third person with them that Halsin didn’t recognize. That was until he stepped into the firelight. He wasn’t sure what he had expected on their return, but it certainly wasn’t Elminster Aumar. Halsin was familiar with Elminster by reputation only, but what a reputation he had.

As they drew closer, Halsin caught Tav’s eyes and gave her a questioning look. She shrugged in response and tilted her head towards Gale. He watched as she escorted Gale and Elminster over towards the other edge of camp.

The three of them stood in front of Gale’s tent, Elminster talking in hushed tones. From the looks on their faces, the conversation was most grave. Both Tav and Gale listened to the famed wizard, giving him their complete focus. After a few moments, Gale’s expression changed, he looked so surprised and…hopeful. Not a minute later though, it fell again, a look of pure anguish moved across his face. Then, he saw Tav start to gesture unhappily. She was pointing in Elminster’s face, waving her arms angrily, and then finally crossing them over her chest, looking displeased. Gale lightly placed a hand on her arm and said something indecipherable. Her face was turning red, not the flustered, endearing shade he had come to know but a different, angrier hue. Halsin was worried that she would burst into tears any second. Suddenly, a bright and magical light encircled Elminster, slowly making its way to surround Gale. A look of relief passed over him, as if a great pain had been relieved from his body.

Elminster was talking once more, but Halsin still couldn’t make it out. Gale reached out to shake his hand before their guest turned to take his leave from the camp. Tav glared after him, her face finally starting to return to its normal color.

She stood with Gale a while longer, still gesturing wildly towards Elminster as he disappeared over the horizon. Gale was looking more subdued than usual; a sadness had overtaken him that Halsin hadn’t seen in the charming wizard. Tav was gripping him by both shoulders now, her eyes pleading with him. But for what, Halsin couldn’t say. He watched as Gale gently moved her hands from his slumped shoulders, he could just barely glimpse the tears gathering in Tav’s eyes, glinting in the low light of the fire in front of them. After Gale finished speaking, she pulled him into a hug. It took him a moment to reciprocate, but once he did Halsin could see how tightly he clung to Tav. Whatever tidings Elminster brought, it was not pleasant.

Gale eventually broke free of Tav’s embrace, turning to walk away from the camp. She stood there watching him go, her arms curling around her torso. The pull in his chest returned, longing to drag him towards her, to wrap her in his arms and hold her there. She turned around and caught him staring, a sad smile appearing on her face. Halsin quickly looked away, pretending to be captivated by some nearby shrubs.

“Is everything okay?” Tav had quietly walked up behind him. “You looked worried.”

“Hm? Oh, yes everything is fine. It just seemed like you and Gale were having a less than pleasant conversation with our guest.”

She scoffed in response, scowling after the long-gone wizard.

“Yes, the famous Elminster Aumar. ‘Friend’ to Gale, savior of the realms, and actual divine messenger.” Her sneer slowly softened.

“Divine messenger?”

Tav caught him up on their conversation. How Mystra has now tasked Gale with the destruction of the Absolute, using the orb currently residing in his chest. The act would mean sacrificing himself. A very severe request, even for a follower as devoted as Gale.

“How is Gale?” Halsin asked, knowing there was no simple answer to that question right now.

“Fucking delusional!” Tav yelled, then looked around them, suddenly conscious of her change in tone around the others. She lowered her voice before speaking again.

“He’s actually considering going through with it. Arguing that we now have the ‘clearest solution to our problem.’ What kind of solution is it if we have to ask him to kill himself?” Tears were starting to form in her eyes again.

Halsin listened intently to her, trying to decide how to respond without fanning the flames of her anger.

“We aren’t asking him to sacrifice himself, Tav. But it seems that Mystra is.” He eyed her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. He never would have considered Mystra to be one of the harsher goddesses, but it would seem now that she was more spiteful than he originally thought.

“Regardless, that’s monstrous! The fact that she’s had the ability to prevent the orb from destroying him, yet she has simply chosen not to speaks volumes to me. She would rather see Gale in horrible pain. She’d rather see him dead, potentially taking thousands of other lives with him than help cure him. All because what…her pride is wounded? Now, she thinks she can ask my wizard to just end his life for the hope that she’ll forgive him? Unbelievable…un-fucking-believable!” She finally paused to breathe. Her shoulders rising and falling in an exaggerated manner as she worked to catch her breath again.

“Your wizard?” Halsin raised an eyebrow at her. He had a teasing smile on his face, trying to hide the panic he felt rising in him. Was she with Gale now?

Where is this jealousy coming from?

“Yes, my wizard. I happen to consider Gale a very good friend now. I tend to be rather protective of my friends.” She turned her nose up at him defiantly. He could only smile in response, slightly embarrassed by the relief he felt hearing her refer to Gale as only a friend.

Speaking with Tav now, it was clear to see why he was so enamored with her. There was a passion in her voice that he hadn’t heard yet in their time together. A fierce loyalty to those around her that burned hotter than smokepowder. A heart of steel that mirrored his own. For so long he had pushed his feelings down, numbing himself to all emotion to manage the pain. Listening to her righteous rage woke something in him, something that he had buried decades ago. The shadows of Moonrise had clouded his mind for a century, but somehow Tav had managed to burn her way through. Maybe, just maybe, she could help lead him out.

So long as you don’t drive her too far away first.

“Come and sit with me for a minute.” Halsin sat on the ground and lightly patted the spot next to him. She reluctantly accepted the invitation, crossing her legs in front of her. Her elbows rested on her knees to allow her hands to hold up her pouting face.

“I think it’s remarkable how quickly you create bonds with those around you. You’ve known Gale what, a tenday? And already you’re prepared to go to war with the goddess of magic on his behalf. You’ve known Karlach for an even shorter span of time, but I’d wager you would challenge Zariel herself in single combat to keep her safe. That sort of loyalty and devotion is rare, usually reserved for the deities you’re so intent on fighting.” A grin was threatening to break through her pout.

“But…” She prompted, turning to look him in the eyes.

“But…be careful that your dedication to your friends doesn’t prevent you from hearing their own wishes. It is a difficult thing as a leader to be unable to help someone in your care, but sometimes you have to allow them to decide for themselves. Even if you lose them in the process.” His thoughts briefly drifted back to Kagha and her rash decisions made in his absence.

“I’m not a leader, Halsin. Everyone defers to my judgement because I can feign confidence. The benefit of an expensive education I suppose. But it’s all an act.”

“Oh, I think it’s much more than that. Others naturally gravitate to you. Everything you just said comprise the qualities of a great leader. Nothing about you is insincere. Perhaps once it was an act, but maybe all that time projecting confidence you didn’t have helped you learn to actually build it up.” He paused as she wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Do not sell yourself short, my friend. You are as capable of a leader as they come.”

Tav thought about his words for a while before speaking up again.

“I can’t just push my feelings aside. It’s not in my nature to hide my thoughts and emotions. Not anymore…” She started absentmindedly picking blades of grass out of the ground.

“What do you mean?” He was hesitant to ask, no one seemed to know much about Tav’s past. Unlike the others, she kept her long life tucked away in her mind.

“I spent a long time being forced into a role I didn’t want. I had no voice, no control. When I tried to rebel, when I spoke up…” She trailed off, more tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “It wasn’t just me who paid the price.”

Halsin listened carefully, watching as her face twisted with pain.

“But now, I do have a voice. I have the ability to help. I…I can’t just stand by and watch him go on a suicide mission.” Her voice was much quieter now as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.

“That is unfortunately not for you to decide. If Gale truly believes this is his only path to redemption…” He paused for a moment, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That is something he must be allowed to choose for himself.” Tav sniffled lightly at his words.

“Has anyone ever told your wisdom is infuriating?”

“I believe it was a prerequisite for my Archdruid title.” He squeezed her arm lightly before letting his hand drop back to his side.

“I’ll respect whatever decision Gale makes. But that doesn't mean I won’t try and convince him to live a little bit longer before he decides.”

“I’d expect nothing less. Your friends are lucky to have you fighting for them.” He paused for a moment before finishing his thought. “I hope I can count myself among them.”

“Oh, believe me…if Silvanus so much as thinks about causing you trouble I’ll rip his mossy beard to shreds.” She gave him a huge, stunning smile. He couldn’t keep himself from laughing in response.

“I assure you that will hardly be necessary. Nevertheless, I’ll be sure he is properly forewarned. I’d hate to find a new deity to follow, given all my years of service.” He teased back at her. For some reason the jokes and teases came so easily around her.

Tav lightly patted him on the leg before standing back up. She offered her hand to him to help him stand as well.

“Thanks, Halsin. I uh…I needed to hear this.” She twirled the end of her braid around in her fingers.

“Anytime. And don’t worry, I happen to admire your righteous anger. So long as I am never on the receiving end of it.”

“Well…I’m glad I’ve still avoided leaving a bad impression then.” Her sweet smile was still beaming up at him.

“You? Impossible.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

They locked eyes for a moment as his heart started to pound against the walls of his chest. Her cheeks and nose had become slightly rosy from the chill evening, once again matching the pink irises in her eyes. The fire behind her cast warm colors all down her hair, the shade dancing from orange, to yellow, to red, back to orange…they matched the warmth spreading through his chest, the pull coming back and urging him to take her into his arms. His eyes wandered to her lips, still curled into that intoxicating smile. He didn’t miss the fact that her eyes had begun to wander as well. Images flashed through his mind, their lips pressed together before slowly making their way down each other’s necks and bodies. Their hands, gripping the other’s back, pulling them as close as possible. Every bit of their bare skin pressed against the other’s. Tav took the smallest step towards him, closing the gap between them ever so slightly. He leaned forward almost involuntarily, longing to feel her touch again. Just as he thought he wouldn’t be able to control himself any longer, her attention was drawn away.

“Tav!” Karlach yelled from beside the fire. Tav turned to face her as the large tiefling was smiling and waving her over towards the rest of the group.

She turned back and took a shaky breath. Halsin hoped that the disappointment he felt wasn’t too obvious on his face.

“Care to join me?” She gestured towards the fire.

“Of course. I’ll be there in just a moment.” He forced the words out using what little breath he had left in his lungs. She nodded and made her way back over towards the others.

That was too close…

His mind was racing, the words from all those nights ago in his meditation came back to him.

“You will have but one chance, my child. Restore the balance, bring back the light.”

Silvanus’s words rang in his ears, yet his gaze still followed Tav. He wanted so badly to tell her of his plan. She deserved to know that there was a chance to expel the shadow curse. Yet there was no guarantee.

No…no I’ll wait until I know for sure. She has too many burdens to bear, there’s no need to add to them today. This is my task and mine alone.

His attention turned back to the group around the fire. Tav looked over her shoulder to meet his eyes, still smiling at him. She lightly tapped the seat next to her by the fire, waiting for him to join. He almost went over to sit with her, he wanted to go and be with his new friends, but something stopped him. He was losing focus, something he just couldn’t afford right now. Tav was giving him a concerned look, no doubt wondering what was keeping him. He shook his head slightly at her before turning to find solace in the woods tonight, but not before seeing her smile slowly fade away.

I’m sorry, Tav.

Halsin sulked off into the trees, alone. Once again opting to spend the night on his own, lost in meditation, desperately trying to cling to the hope that he could banish the shadows. The shadows that corrupted Moonrise Towers, as well as the shadows corrupting his own mind.

[ceilingfan5]

20 Questions for fic writers

Tagged by @holdmecloser-gandydancer

tagging you, the person reading this and wishing someone tagged you, yes you, i mean it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

total? 73. TAZ? 37. oh man. palindrome

2. What's your total A03 word count? 703,033 baby ive been here for Ten Years

3. What fandoms do you write for?

recently taz. before that, aftg, haikyuu!! etc. but man it has been taz for a While

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

OF TAZ WORKS (all my top 5 are old old) 1. Sticker Stars (of course) 2. Run Away With Me 3. Rub This On Your Body 4.Little Shop of Horny and 5. Apply Directly to the Forehead (one of my first taz fics!!) all of those make sense as contenders but i am surprised revenge plus one is #8

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i................have to be honest..........................................i'm so...sorry............

[id: a screenshot of "Inbox (3402)" indicating no, no I do not]

(please understand this is from years and years and years and years)

i pretty much only reply if i am directly asked a question i have an answer to or it makes me cry in a good way....not because i'm an asshole or because i don't appreciate them!!!! comments mean truly so much to me!! i just don't know what to say besides thank you, so i usually write an emphatic thank you on each chapter and hope people know i mean it.... please don't think i don't care...please............. i care so much

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

we don't do that here

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

“But like,” words fall out of Taako’s mouth before he can stop them. “Live your life, dude, go a little nuts, feel like a whole person, give me $200, participate in the universe, get your back blown out on demand, fucking-” he laughs. “Have a collection, experience joy, buy a cat, get diagnosed with autism, fall in love-”

“What was that last part??” 

if that (from revenge plus one) isn't a happy ending what is (i'm hoping the people who care enough to read a post like this have either read it already or are going to go. oh my god i have to read revenge plus one tonight)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no and if i did i would block and delete em, there's no time for that. fuck em. this is a joy pursuit (i would cry though. don't. what the hell. just close the tab like a normal person. someone MADE THAT.)

9. Do you write smut?

oh baby DO I

i do intend to write some more publishable stuff soon. most of my personal stuff has gotten Way Too Weird. but look out for some horny supervillain taakitz soon if thats your cup of hot chocolate with too many marshmallows in it 👀👀👀👀

10. Do you write crossovers?

sorry i am obsessed with one thing at a time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hope not! if so i cast a billion death spiders on them. smooch. partake in the joyous act of baring your soul via dumbfucks yourself, coward

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

once, i think? im not sure they finished

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

absolutely, some of my best stuff was originally rp!!! i am so sorry @holdmecloser-gandydancer @noodyl-blasstal for not continuing some super exciting projects, my brain is electric soup and my life is a circus. someday. someday we will play again. i must believe

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

if you did not expect taakitz i have 29+ fics you should read

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

everything is possible until you give up. so who knows!!!!!!!!!!! it sure does help to know there are people that will still read things if and when they are ever finished though

16. What are your writing strengths?

VOICE! dialogue. fun

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

planning fucking ahead

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

caution necessary but i mean live your life, just be aware of the err of google translate

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on ao3? wtnv

before that? squints. maybe homestuck or............no it was shakespeare

man. fuck

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

revenge plus one, probably, i miss living in it

nothing says passion like 90k and baby's first adhd medication!!!!!!!!!

really though please go read it. if you have 90k worth of attention and time and interest

also hey? in general? if you read this far? keep writing. and enjoy it. self indulgence isn't just nice, it's what makes life worth living. make for you, and then the comments and appreciation are bonus. snare a few friends in your web and you're living, baby

keep reaching for the stars

[marierg]

Biscuits and Beskar

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rated: Teenish (language that's about it)

A/N: Alrighty Folks this is a little intro chapter... an amuse-bouche if you will! So I'm not great at writing the not reader insert stuff so Kaylee is my OC for this but she's written as a reader insert. There's still a little bit of a gap between Kay and Boba, she's written as early 30's. If anyone has any advice or tips please drop me a line! Lemme know if there's any improvements I can do for the next parts.

PS- I should warn you all now that I write slower than molasses going down a pole in January so it could be a bit between chapters, BUT the next one is gonna be posted next week as well. Much love for our Daimyo!

Words:1450 ish

Masterlist Next

Tags are open, just drop a line

“Whatever it is the answer is no! Not a chance of ice on the dunes.” Crossing your arms you groused as the group of young people parked their speeders. They were too jovial and your nagging sense of trouble was going into overdrive.

Skad sauntered up to the side of the cart. “Kaylee, mama Kay, my favorite chef... Can't I just order some lunch without you being suspicious?”

“Not when that slemo monger Peel came over here giving me an ear full this morning!” You were beyond ticked off at the kids this time. What hurt you was that they were going to get themselves killed one of these days doing stupid shit like this. “I know he charges a fortune for the water. I know he's an ass. But he could go to the new Daimyo and have you all shot! How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Funny thing that, the new Daimyo hired us on.” Skad put on his most charming smile.

“What, when?!”

“Last night when he came to shoot us.” Skad flinched when the soup spoon made impact on his shoulder. “Hey! Jeeze we came to offer you a job and this is the thanks...”

“What job?” Taking a deep breath you started to put some fresh rolls into a bag. Drash shoved Skad to the side, politely asking for some soup and you couldn't say no to the girl. Tossing back your braid you looked Skad in the mechanical sensor that served for an eye. “As you well know I have two jobs already. Three if you count chasing you kids.”

“Please Kaylee it would be a huge favor.” Drash was beseeching you, big bantha eyes and all.

Narrowing your eyes you proceeded with caution, “What's the job?”

“Well the big bad Daimyo's cupbords are bare and he needs someone to fix that,” Nitro was leaning against his bike looking like some type of runaway senators kid. He always wore that long suit coat like he was going to an important meeting and spoke with the same aloof air, not at all the son of moisture farmers.

“Oh and your poor grumbling bellies had nothing to do with it?”

At your very loud snort Nitro whined, dropping the act, “Awe come on Kaylee we haven't had anything worth eating since you closed last night.”

“A job at the Palace, why should I do that eh?” You busily poured to-go containers with your soup of the day. True you had a soft spot for the kids, but working for a crime boss was a whole other matter. Your life may be miserable, but you still enjoyed being on this side of the surface. “Besides you just started working for the man what, last night? Do you even know what kind of person you're working for?”

Drash rolled her eyes at you, mech arm on hip, “Kay how long can you keep rolling this old cart around the city? It's nice up there, you'd have a whole kitchen of your own. No more sandstorms, no water merchants, no bar fights, a larder as big as the karking mayors office!”

“Yeah and no roundups either,” A shiver went down Nikita's spine at the thought, nervously twirling her hair before tucking it behind the glowing sensors on the side of her head.

“Hey now that ain't gonna happen sweetie, don't even worry bout that. And besides this old cart's gotten me through till now.” You patted the counter top affectionately, salvaged from the ashes much like yourself. “If they wanted a cook they would have put out a listing. Better yet why didn't the mighty man come down here and ask me?”

“Cause he's busy running the city, big job ya know.” Skad piped in, taking the proffered bag of food and settling up the tab. “Come on mama Kay at least come up and check it out. It'll make Drash feel better, all warm an fuzzy like.”

“Kriff off!” Drash gave Skad a harsh look even as you chuckled. Drash owed mama Kay, they all did, and she didn't like unpaid debts. Sighing she tried to think of what could possibly convince you, “I mean we all know it is cheaper to feed us using that droid. Probably just as good as you if it had the right recipes... what's cooking for the Daimyo of Tatooine. You wouldn't want the headache of all those banquets and meetings...”

“Now hold on a minute little miss.” You glared at the young woman, knowing full well that she was pushing a particular button for you. “No damn droid was ever made that could replace a living chef! What in hell do droids know about cooking anyway! Bolts and sensors don't feel, don't smell. Droid can't put love into their work...”

Drash watched as you grumbled and whinged, knowing that she had won. “So you'll come and cook for the Palace?”

Groaning heavily you rolled your eyes at the girl. “IF the Daimyo wants a cook then he can ask me when YOU lot bring me up there tonight after close. Now get back to work, suns burning the day away.”

Drash and the others got on their speeders. That had gone better than expected and if Shand did her part then by tonight a large weight would finally be off Drash's chest.

“You need to eat something,” Fennec drolly commented from her perch near the throne. True none of the food was quite palatable, but necessity made the best sauce. Taking a fresh pally she tossed it to Boba who caught the fruit without even looking up. The boss had been stewing since the encounter with the twins, it wasn't good to be solely focused when there were many who wanted this endeavor to fail. Still first things first, “The Mods brought some soup up from the market.”

“They should be more careful,” Boba looked at the fruit placing it on the plate next to his helmet. Sour stomachs rarely made for sound judgment and his list of enemies grew by the day. The twins being in town added to his list of troubles along with the much needed upkeep and maintenance of the Palace and growing staff. True the younglings were fairly capable, at least in a street scrap, but against professionals? Mok Shaiz, gutless worm he was, had been right. Running a family was not bounty hunting, there was more than just his hide on the line this time. Looking at the steam coming from the mug he snorted, “Soup on Tattoine?”

“Try, it's safe enough.”

He looked at Fennec and the cup in her hand, reluctantly taking it. Well it couldn't be any worse than the slop that kitchen droid tried to serve him. Boba took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised. The soup was a basic bone broth but the aromatics and vegetable base certainly gave it a hearty flavor. It wasn't overpowering just simple and filling. His churning gut settled with every sip, finally nourished.

“See not bad.” Fennec would give the kids credit, they knew good food. Even from her own cursory review this little cook seemed safe enough. When Skad had proposed the idea she had been resistant, but given the growing list of the Palaces' needs it wasn't unreasonable to hire a housekeeper to manage things. Sometimes to be a good leader one needed to delegate, “We could use a cook around here for banquets and tribute days.”

Boba looked to his second in command, corner of his lip turning up, “Why, so I can become a lazy slug like Fortuna?”

“Actually quite the opposite,” Fennec walked to the side board and poured herself a drink, “With a proper chef in residence you would be healthier and better able to manage the more... social aspects of this position.”

“No proper chef will settle on Tatooine.”

Quirking a brow at the boss Fennec smirked, “How much would you bet?”

Boba knew that look all too well, the self assured smirk of certain victory. Some days he wondered who was really in charge, “And you think this soup vendor could do the job?”

“Worth a shot. I'll have someone bring them for an interview.”

“Fine.” He hated that Fennec was right. More annoying was that she had managed to so easily solve these types of minor problems when he should be able to manage. As she began her daily report Boba could already hear her cat like grin widening. At least with the Mods patrolling he had more eyes and ears around the city. Yes his enemies grew by the day, but maybe so to would his small tribe of allies. Drinking down the last of the marvelous broth Boba rolled the mug in his hands contemplatively. He would see what this soup vendor brought to the table, fortune or famine.

Tags: @rain-on-kamino @daimyosprincess @pickleprickle @acatalystrising @kimiheartblade