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lunarvampz · 8 months

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In Bloom (Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count. 6038. this is a big one.

Chapter 4 Hawthorn

The last week was utter chaos trying to get the final things in place for the annual harvest festival: preparing booths, organising equipment, and figuring out who was running what. Much to your dismay, you had been stationed on the corn maze with someone else, fishing out the kids who would undoubtedly get lost.

The afternoon breeze was too nippy for your liking, but the physical exertion of hoisting pumpkins into crates counteracted the chill. Your father had asked you to round up the last of the supplies and load the wagon so he could take them to the stalls in town. He, very conveniently, had ‘too much paperwork’ and couldn’t do it himself.

You loaded the last of the pumpkins before going back inside, calling out to your father that you had finished. Moments later, you heard the familiar thuds against the stairs and the opening and shutting of the door. Not even a thank you.

Besides helping out and doing chores, you hadn’t been allowed to leave the house unless instructed, which wasn’t that different from the rest of the time. Mother had callously warned you about trying to ‘show off’ your bruises to attract attention and risk you ruining her pristine reputation and pulled you into her bedroom to cover the marks she had left to the best of her abilities before you even thought about stepping foot out of the front door, including today.

——————————

The best way you could describe the makeup was clownish at best. Sighing, you turned on the tap and splashed the water on your face, washing away the pinkish liquid she had covered it in. Wincing slightly, you gently dried your skin and examined the yellow and green clouds of pigment that stained your cheeks and the almost-healed split on your lower lip; it was less noticeable today.

You were called to dinner, ate, blocked out the conversation and then slinked back to your room, not wanting to provoke your parents into banning you from the festival tomorrow altogether.

The outfit your mother had laid out on your chair stared at you obnoxiously. A pear-coloured taffeta dress, ruffly and laced, with cream gloves and a matching coat, all topped off with the dreaded corset she liked to force you in and tighten so you could barely breathe. After all, appearances matter.

Sitting on the pile of clothes was a hat with a lace trim that went with the dress, and all you could think about was how you were supposed to pull kids out of a corn maze in that outfit. It made sense because the church was running it, and you’d be standing up on stage with the rest of your family in front of the whole town.

Deciding not to nitpick the details, you rolled over to face the wall and pulled the covers over your shoulder, too tired to care about what was to come the next day.

——————————

Warm. Warm? Cold? Cold! Jolting awake to the sudden change in temperature, your eyes shot open to see your mother standing over you, holding your duvet and practically pulling you out of bed.

“Up! Up! Now! We have things to do!”, You groaned and caught the edge of your bed before she could drag you onto the floor, looking over at the clock. 8:17 am.

“Alright! I’m getting up. Just give me a second.”

She let go of your legs and hurried downstairs, presumably to start baking her ‘famous’ blackberry tartlets.

The wooden floors were cold and hard against your feet, and the draft coming through your window ran up your back, nipping at your neck. Your body began to ache just thinking about all the things you had to do today and, on top of all that, dealing with screaming children. You’d rather eat a pound of salt.

The clanging in the kitchen grew louder with each stride you took, and when you turned the corner, you saw your mother elbow-deep in pastry dough, rolling, shaping and baking it into perfect little cups that filled the countertops. She looked like she had been baking for hours already. However, she still roped you into the kitchen and stationed you in front of a bowl and a gigantic pile of blackberries.

——————————

No matter how hard you scrubbed your hands and fingers, the indigo stains didn't budge; you had washed your hands four times. You became frustrated and decided just to leave it, and you had to be ready in an hour and “Heaven forbid” we were late. Much to your protest, your mother had bound you into the corset so tightly that you felt as if you were going to burst with one too many sharp movements and she asked you to do the same for her, as always. It astonished you how she kept telling you to pull tighter and tighter, to the point where you thought you’d snap her in half.

You dressed in the rest of your outfit and tucked away any loose hairs that fell astray. Pulling a few flowers from the vase on your vanity, you slipped them into the ribbon on your hat and took a deep breath. The image in the mirror was so far from what you usually looked, and it warped your mind; the enhancement of your figure and whatever powders and liquids your mother had caked on your face made you look like the pinnacle of high-class refinement and innocence.

It had turned out that word of your overnight stay with an older man in the middle of town had crept through the cracks of the alleys and made its way subtly through the hushed corners of town, so your presentation today had been fabricated meticulously by your parents to ensure your best behaviour.

“We’re leaving in twenty minutes, no more, no less!’

Your mother shouted from the bannister, echoing throughout the top floor.

Shaking the nervousness, you sat at your vanity and fixed some of the makeup. She tried, but your skin was much softer and had far fewer wrinkles.

You knew it was time to leave when you heard the coach roll onto the front grass. Your father only called this for events, and it was just as awkward and confining as packing a bear and a snake into a pet cage.

——————————

Each time you rode in that godforsaken carriage was worse than the last. Smushed against the door was your fate because your sister needed space for her ‘friends’. Her plush toys, that was.

You bunched the fabric of your dress in your hands and pushed yourself out of the door, taking in the bustling noise of something other than maids or dishes or your mother’s consistent blithering. It brought you a sense of calm… almost.

It wasn’t long until you were dragged by the wrist and ushered behind the stage curtains whilst Mayor Baker welcomed guests. Your mother gestured to the corners of her lips, smiling in a way that was so obviously fake and surface level that it was closer to pain than actual content; though you had grown closely familiar with it, you understood why the town couldn’t tell.

Following your mother and father out from the curtain with your little sister tailing you, you took in everyone’s faces, and your eyes landed on someone familiar. Like that, you felt every nerve tense and every hair stand on end. That face. That fucking face. That sense of freedom you felt swiftly exited faster than it could enter, and your smile faltered; the burning sensation sat in your sinuses, and everything around you became foggy and disoriented.

The clouded rays that were once soothing your skin and embraced you against the cold now blinded you, the winds that flowed over gently now lashed harshly at your skin and the noise you were so grateful for turned into your heartbeat, overtaking your eardrums and it was tormenting.

You felt your mother elbow you and hastily pull you off stage with the rest of your family, who had already taken a few steps before turning to your father and taking his arm to set off to their designated booth. You stumbled a little before regaining some sort of awareness, and you watched as your sister ran off with the other young church kids.

It felt like your heart would jump out of your throat, and your tightly woven corset only accentuated the pressure on your lungs.

You thought he left town for good.

——————————

Clawing at the fabric on your back with haste, you only managed to unhook a few notches while your uncontrollable sobs turned to something more like panic-stricken gasps. If only your mother had not insisted on the laces being so tight.

The gloves you wore had been strewn onto the grass, and the coat you had practically torn off lay under you, pressed into the grass by your knees and the tips of your shoes. Each breath you took was shallow and choked, and you felt like you were losing yourself and any focus you had was directed at being able to breathe.

You had run off to the outside of the corn maze, just far enough away from everyone to where they couldn’t hear your pained cries, or so you thought.

Faint footsteps turned to hurried strides that grew louder by the second, along with indistinct shouts that sounded quiet compared to the breaths that blocked your ears. Your fingers kept getting caught between the hooks, and they started hurting. You felt the world closing in and your vision narrow as you tried to get the last hook undone.

The footsteps stopped behind you, and a pair of hands shooed yours away, quickly undid the latch and asked you what was going on repeatedly, unaware of you being asphyxiated.

You squeaked out a few words using whatever air you left in you.

“Corset… Tight.”

The hands yanked the bow, loosened the laces, and pulled it apart in a matter of seconds.

Oh my god.

Nothing felt better than actually being able to breathe. You groaned in relief, collapsing onto your elbows and heaving and coughing as your head hung down, causing your hat to fall off. The coat underneath you had cushioned your thud as you rolled onto your back, and the soft grass tickled your feet.

A laugh escaped your lips briefly while you held your face in your hands; it was almost comical the way that that was so close to being the death of you… Then it all hit again like a wave crashing down on you, and you started sobbing again. It wasn’t till you finished rubbing your eyes that you realised the mystery person was probably still standing there.

You quickly wiped your eyes only to open them to a tall, well-dressed cowboy. Oh. My god. The laughter came on again as it mixed with the sniffles, and you sat up, dusting yourself off and massaging your ribcage. Sucking your teeth, you spoke.

“Nice to see you.”

He chuckled and bent down to pick up your gloves.

“Always lovely to see you, Miss.”

There was a brief pause where you soaked in the awkwardness of the situation and fiddled with a bit of grass in your fingers. The leaves from the trees rustled in the wind, filling the void.

You cleared your throat.

“Thank you for the help back there. That was… Yeah.”

Arthur stood back up with gloves in one hand and extending the other. You took it, and he pulled you up gently. You smiled at him but were met with a look of solicitude; confused, you asked what was wrong.

“Yer’ face. What the hell happened?”

Frozen in place, you realised your makeup must have run off with the tears and debated on telling the truth or not. You didn’t know if he’d tell anyone.

“My mother's gift to me after my hotel ‘rendezvous’. She didn’t break anything this time, at least.”

Arthur’s face was one of pure shock, mouth slightly agape, and he seemed to try to process what you just said. It was scary how silent he was, the silence being filled by the breeze once again.

“Your MO-”

He calmed himself, stepping towards you and reaching his hand to your chin, tilting your cheek towards him.

“She did this to you? Yer’ own damn mother?”

He shifted to your lip, running his thumb across the split, sighing. Pulling away from you, he shook his head.

“I’m so sorry that happened. Really, I didn’t mean for you to get that drunk.”

You picked up your hat and coat and shrugged; you didn't want him to feel bad since he could’ve just left you at the saloon, and who knows what might’ve happened to you if he did. Realising that you’ve been missing from the corn maze for a while, you mentioned having to get back to Arthur.

“The corn maze? That’s where I’m stationed.”

He was your supervisor.

“I was wondering who I was with… Wait- How?”

How was a question that seemed like it was about to have a very long answer, so instead of waiting to hear what he said, you asked him to help you tie your corset, wanting to get back before someone noticed you were missing. Before he could answer, you had already turned your back to him.

“Miss, I… I don’t know how to…”

Holding the loose laces, you put them in his hands and told him to start from the top and pull tightly, but not too tight. It took him a few seconds to register what you said, but he finally moved towards you after a few seconds.

You moved your hair out of the way and looked over your shoulder to see his face slightly puzzled, and you chuckled before facing forward again.

His hands briefly brushed your spine and made their way to the first cross. He pulled gently, edging the laces tighter until you said stop. He stopped and made his way to the next cross, pulled to the same tightness and stopped again. Slowly but surely, he worked his hands down the rest of the laces, drawing them through the eyelets until he hit the bottom.

“I can’t tie bows…”

Your hands met his, and you took over, finishing up. Arthur shuffled a little closer, hooking the back of your dress, and you swear you heard him mumble another apology; you questioned him, but he said nothing. You turned around to get your gloves off him without realising how close he was. Everything clicked for a moment; for just a split second, you felt this intense sense of… something. It was a feeling that warmed your blood.

Clearing your throat, you grabbed the gloves from his belt and slipped them on, along with your hat and coat. Arthur stood there awkwardly, staring off into nothing whilst playing with the hem of his jeans pocket.

It struck you that the makeup was still smeared with streaks of blushed tint running down your cheeks and smudged lip paint that dragged down your chin. Searching for something to wipe it with, you expressed to Arthur that you couldn’t go into town without covering the marks and then pulled out a small handkerchief and tried your best to wipe away the remnants.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back, jus’ stay here”

The cowboy had already begun briskly walking away before you could protest, but you were stuck here, so it didn't matter. A few minutes later, he returned with a dark brown-haired woman in tow carrying a toddler playing with a small teddy bear.

“This is my friend Abigail. She’ll fix yer makeup for you.”

The woman gave the little one over to Arthur before reaching into her purse. You watched as Arthur sat down on the grass and played peek-a-boo with the bear whilst the child watched in awe, giggling and clapping.

“Don’t mind my son. His dad was busy.”

She seemed slightly annoyed but continued to rummage for a few seconds before pulling out a small compact, a bottle filled with a wine-coloured liquid and two brushes, one big and one small.

“So, you’re Miss Hotel. Yeah, I saw y’up on that stage earlier. You’ve got a pretty face. Ain’t that right, Arthur?”

Arthur's head snapped up from the boy with a startled look; he sputtered out a ‘Yeah’ and turned his attention back to the boy. Abigail snickered quietly and started to apply the rosy powder to your cheeks, brushing it over the mark and matching it on the other side; then, she painted the liquid onto your lips, carefully smudging it with her finger.

“Well, I’m all done here. It was lovely to finally meet you.”

Swiftly, she packed away the cosmetics and swept up her son and his toy before wishing Arthur a good day and returning to the fair. You slightly adjusted your clothes while Arthur got up and suggested that you two get going; you agreed.

——————————

Throughout the day, kids and adults alike filtered in and out of the maze, though you hadn’t paid much mind to it. You signed them in and waited ten minutes, and if they hadn’t come back to the front, you went in and guided them back out.

“I think it’s been ten minutes since that couple went through. I better go fish ‘em out. You’ve already done enough today. I’ll take over from here.”

Arthur stood from his chair and entered the maze, disappearing into the husks. The two of you had been talking since you returned, sharing stories and asking questions. You thought it was a great way to kill time and get to know each other better, considering you weren’t allowed to participate in anything until the last hour when most of the activities closed and the music and dancing started.

You had learnt about his upbringing, that he lives with a camping group that travels frequently and is essentially one big family, and about his hobbies, which included hunting, journaling and the occasional sketching and poetry. The last one surprised you a bit, and you asked if you could hear some, which seemed to get him flustered before he explained that it was kind of private, which you understood.

Fiddling with the sign-up sheet on the table, you looked around at all the stalls and activities and eyed your parents, one that was being swarmed for tartlets just like every other year. They’d be sold out in the next twenty minutes.

Sounds of rustling filled the air along with crunching footsteps from behind; you looked over and saw the couple giggling and dishevelled, with Arthur trailing behind, looking stunned and shaking his head. It took you a few seconds to put together what had occurred, and your face twisted in disgust, earning you a glare from the man before his wife dragged him away.

“You definitely do not see that every day.”

Arthur thunked down onto the chair next to you and leaned onto the table, dragging his hands down his face in disbelief.

“Jesus. People don’t have any sense these days. What if a kid saw ‘em?!”, He exclaimed.

“It’s entirely unsanitary and unholy.”

You rolled your eyes, people should leave that for their bedrooms. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Arthur's eyebrow raise in confusion but, he didn’t say anything else.

Time passed slowly for the rest of the afternoon, with more people coming and going and lighthearted conversations that ranged from ‘Favourite animal?’ to ‘Best flavour of pie?’, in which the only valid answer was apple-cinnamon, in his opinion.

——————————

It was later in the evening when you finally packed up the stall, the sun was going down and the band your father hired had begun setting up. Arthur offered to take the table and chairs to the piles on the other side of the town square whilst you took the donation jar and sheets to the crates that sat near your family’s wagon, you agreed and hoisted the jar into your arms and grabbed the stack of papers and made your way over.

Your mother was there organising the money and filing various papers into envelopes when you reached the wagon, though she was too distracted to notice you. It wasn’t like you were very big on talking to her at the moment.

You returned to the plaza where everyone was gathered, the place was lit by street lamps and candles that sat atop the highest tiers of the fountain and the stands surrounding the outer edge of the town square. The music had just started a few minutes prior and people were already dancing, though mostly children.

Sitting on a bench on the far side of the square, you watched everyone enjoy themselves, you thought you would’ve been more excited to participate but honestly, you couldn’t get that face out of your head. The image had been burned into your brain since you were fourteen and seeing it again today terrified you just as much as it did all those years ago.

The feeling weighed on you like ten sacks of flour and clouded your thoughts like a thousand hurricanes. Out of all days. It was more than what you wanted to deal with and you were pretty sure Arthur had picked up on it too, but chose to say nothing after your near-death fiasco.

“Not dancin’?”

A woman’s voice broke your train of thought. You looked up to find Abigail standing with her hand on her hip, looking down at you.

“Maybe later.”

She sat down on the bench next to you and you thought you smelled alcohol on her breath as she talked.

“Y’know, Jack’s father is horrible. Took off on me and my boy after I gave birth. Still isn’t very involved at all. Hell, Arthur has been more of a father figure to him than he has, and it’s not even his kid.”

As much as she tried to hide it, the pain and anger in her voice was clear. You couldn’t imagine having to raise a child, let alone without the help of the father. Abigail looked at you with tear-welled eyes for a moment before sniffling and wiping them with her hands.

“But I love him, I love that stupid bastard. He may not love me back but this feeling isn’t something I can shake. It’s like when you first meet someone and there’s this little lantern of hope that lights within you, and that flame just keeps burning, whether it gets bigger or not, that flame burns.”

There was a pause before she looked back to you.

“I saw the way you look at him. I see that flame, and I don’t even think you notice it yourself.”

You stared at her, a little dumbfounded. The two of you had just been friends. Yes, he is a very striking man, but that didn’t correlate to fondness or likeness, right?

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Arthur and I are friends. That’s all.”

She rolled her eyes at your statement, chuckling.

“Hey, I’m serious. I think I’d know if I had a thing for someone.”

“Whatever y’say, Sugarplum.”

The snarky remark mixed with her expression almost earned a laugh out of you but you took into consideration what she was saying for a moment. No way.

“Well, however you feel is however you feel, but I’ll tell you something. That morning he came back, John asked him where he’d been and Arthur, bless his heart, he said he spent the night hopin’ and prayin’ that the girl he got drinks with didn’t hate his guts!”

She laughed so hard after that, you thought she’d fall off the bench onto the ground. Did he really think that? You thought that he would’ve moved past it casually, that he did that kind of thing often, you guessed not.

“Well I don’t, and he was very gentlemanly about it. Put me to bed and all.”

A smile crept onto your face as you thought about that night, it was neither’s fault, you didn’t know your limit and he didn’t know you were such a lightweight.

“He’s spent the last week worrying about you so much, we thought his hand would get fused to his forehead from all the time he spent sitting in the damn same position!”

Abigail proceeded to ramble about Arthur's antics for a few minutes, mentioning all the details he told her about how the first time you two had met was purely coincidental and what you talked about and about a billion other incoherent things you couldn’t hear because of the speed she was talking.

“And get this! I asked if you were pretty, considering how much he talked about you, and he-”

She paused with a laugh, clutching her chest.

“He said ‘pretty enough’. Little shit was lying, and I could tell, though I suppose anyone could considering how much he was avoiding eye contact, and how any time someone mentioned your name, he got all dopey and such.”

You barely comprehended what she was saying before she was holding your face in her hands and staring at you intently.

“Look at you, you’re gorgeous! A gorgeous piece of forbidden fruit.” A smirk grew on her face and her voice became hushed.

“Pastor’s daughter. Arthur better tread carefully.” She giggled, dragging out the last syllable in a teasing manner.

The thought of your father finding out you had even been in any sort of intimate vicinity of a cowboy who looked about old enough to be your dad himself was terrifying. You could just imagine the beating you’d receive, your mother's sobs about you being a disgrace and a scandalous harlot. However, a small part of your mind wondered about the possibility of becoming close to Arthur. How well did you know him?

From what you had seen of him today, you wouldn’t have thought twice about his behaviour towards you or your behaviour towards him, but the more your mind replayed each interaction, it made more and more sense.

Maybe you did have a little thing for him. It’ll probably pass.

You heard your name and turned your attention away from Abigail to see none other than the man himself, standing there with a somewhat annoyed look on his face.

“Ladies.”

He cleared his throat twice before Abigail took notice, and when she did, she was nothing but cheery and smiles. A look was exchanged between all three of you before you broke the silence.

“Hey, Arthur. Did you get those chairs and table back, alright?”

Abigail snickered, pushed herself off the bench, and slowly slunk away, whistling and looking back at you before disappearing into the crowd.

“Yeah… Yeah, I did. Don’t mind Abigail, she jus’ likes to stir the pot. Did you she yap yer ear off? When she drinks, she gets talkative.”

You weren’t about to question him on anything she had just told you, absolutely not. Could you imagine? Actually, funny you say that. She told me that you have some sort of obligated sense of care for me, even though you’ve only known me for about two weeks . It wasn’t like you weren’t drawn to him at all, but you felt it wasn’t the time or place to discuss such a matter.

“She was just talking about Jack. Apparently, you’ve been a great help to her.”

Arthur leaned onto the back of the bench and looked at you. You felt like there was something behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite pick up.

“Well, someone’s got to do it, and no one else wants to. John doesn’t believe it’s his child, but I don’t really want to get into it.”

Oh. Oh. Poor Abigail.

“Of course, but it’s really sweet of you.”

The light danced in his eyes, and he stared at you intently for a few seconds, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Thanks…”

He seemed mesmerised by the way the candles illuminated your skin and how your lips curled into a smile when you complimented him. For a few seconds, your eyes searched his while he searched all of you. You felt that same warmth grow inside your chest, making your heartbeat heavy and deep, and your lips parted when Arthur’s gaze drifted to them. He’s so…

Arthur snapped out of it, and his eyes met yours again, and the corner of his mouth stretched into a half-smile. He broke the silence and nervously spoke.

“Would you, uh, care t’ dance?”

The statement surprised you and the abruptness of it confused you before your mind registered what he said.

“I don’t think I can, my parents would see and-”

“No one will see you. Look at how many people there are, and I think you deserve some fun after all your hard work today.”

You looked out at the large crowd and debated his offer for a moment before answering.

“Alright. Just for a bit”

Your answer made Arthur grin before standing up and extending his hand out for you to take, which you graciously accepted and the two of you pushed your way through to the crowd’s centre.

The quartet was playing upbeat music that you didn’t recognise, and you slowly started to tap your foot to the beat, Arthur did the same. After a few minutes, the both of you began twirling and stepping along with everyone around you and getting caught up in the music. Dancing and jumping and swinging each other around, you let enjoy the moment and all you heard was your laughter mixing with the song and the sound of feet hitting the ground.

The song came to an end soon after and you stopped jumping to catch your breath, thinking that the next song would be equally as fast. You looked up at Arthur who was slightly sweating and smiling and started smiling yourself.

Much to both of your surprise, the next song flowed like water, delicate and slow, and everyone around you two partnered up and began swaying. The two of you looked at each other awkwardly and stood still while everyone else was getting up close and personal, and you looked away and began to dance by yourself.

“What’re you doin’? Don’t be silly, come ‘ere.”

He moved closer to you and gently pulled you in, moving your arms the rest on his shoulders then holding your waist. Oh my god. You took a deep breath, exhaling and relaxing into his touch as you both danced.

Your heart’s pace quickened and for the first time in a long time, your face flushed pink and you avoided eye contact at all cost. The closest you’ve been to proper slow-dancing was was you did group line dancing as a sport in school and that was nothing like this. Arthur was looking down at you and for a split second, you looked back.

“You okay? This too much?”

His tone was sweet and slightly concerned when he spoke. You nodded, feeling that if you were to talk, it wouldn’t be words, just a jumble of sounds. And maybe a squeal.

The feeling of something unknown bloomed in your heart, shooting down and blooming out throughout your body, it was only mild, but thrilling. For the second time today, you were breathless, and this time, it was for a good reason.

He stepped closer, hands drifting down to your hips while he looked at you and smiled.

“I must say, you are a pretty girl.”

Your eyes met and you didn’t look away. God. Something had changed in you like those words activated a switch. You noticed his tan skin glistening in the candlelight, the way his shoulders felt under your hands, broad and strong. The way his hands firmly enveloped your hips and the way he looked at you desirously, wanting.

“Thank you, Mr Morgan.”

He chuckled, bowing his head when you called him that. You thought it was the polite way to address someone, especially when they were older than you. He looked back up and began to speak.

“You don’t have to be so formal, y’know?”

“It’s how I was raised, my daddy said it’s the proper way to address someone.”

“Yer daddy ain’t here. Just call me Arthur.”

“Arthur. Thank you”

The two of you shared a laugh and he drew your hips in, gently pressing you to his body. Despite the cool weather, Arthur was warm and inviting, and his body was like a firm pillow. Talk about leaving room for Jesus.

You held your gaze on him, admiring his pretty, teal-coloured eyes and zoning out from everything around you. Nothing felt real, instead a mere fantasy and you were wondering when you were going to wake up, not that you wanted to.

Just as soon as you find bliss, it gets violently ripped away from you. Two hands yanked you backwards, causing you to stumble to the ground and all you heard was screaming, and when you looked up, your mother was getting ready to backhand you until Arthur caught her arm, causing her to scream even louder.

“Let go of me this instant!”

Somehow she managed to wriggle out of his grip and began swiping at you with her other hand, managing to land a few hits before your father came to restrain her, whispering something inaudible in her ear.

Whatever he said made her stop in her tracks and slowly look around at the people staring at the scene she caused. Her face was pale and she was silent for a while before grabbing you by the ear and dragging you away. You saw Arthur’s face, which was one of complete shock, and you mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.

——————————

“What on our Lord’s holy earth were you doing with that man!?”, Your mother sat across from you in the carriage.

Your mother had left your father and sister at the fair to damage control, and so she could chew you out without worrying about hurting her ‘precious angels’. Golden childs. Feelings.

“I was just dancing.”

You looked out the window at the sunset, too annoyed with her to give her your full attention. For once, one goddamn time in your life, you truly felt at home, but no, she has to go and cause a scene.

“Dancing? You call that dancing? More like rubbing fronts!”

Gross. Rubbing fronts? You never wanted to hear that term again.

“Ew, No.”

Part of you wanted to argue back, but the better part of you knew the consequences. It would end in another beating and you were still healing from the last one and now, the brand new scratches from her nails too.

The carriage came to a halt and you knew you were home, pushing open the door, you got out and made your way to the front door. Go to your room.

“Go to your room. I don’t want to see your face again until tomorrow.”

You just pushed the door open and went straight up the stairs and to your room, pulling off the uncomfortable clothes and collapsing on your bed. Tears formed in your eyes and you began to sob quietly into your pillow, smearing the makeup all over the crisp white linen.

How could she embarrass you like that? In front of everyone? She has officially lost it.

You lay there, listening to your clock tick and wishing that things went down differently. Tick. Minute after minute, you seethed in anger and had to remind yourself to breathe. Just breathe. Tick. The sun had gone down by now, plunging your room into almost darkness, only lit by the moonlight that filtered in through your thin curtains.

By the time you realised you were no longer crying and fading in and out of awareness, you guessed it was late at night and rolled over to look at your clock. 11:24 pm. Tick. You groaned when your stomach grumbled and mentally kicked yourself for not grabbing something to eat when you came in, but you just ignored the feeling and tried to go to sleep, not caring about the state you were in.

Tick, Tick. Tap?

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whitedragoncoranth · 6 months

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By Three...

.... Early morning on Knowhere, not quite time to get up yet, as the station's night-cycle hasn't yet turned to artificial daylight. The small apartment where you and Rocket live together is still made dim by the soft velvet purples of the station's night-lighting; you and he lazily drifting in and out of sleep. You're petting him, of course - you're the only one he allows to do so - far less nightmares and more sleep-filled nights for him and you, that way.

It's as you scratch under his chin... that he traps your questing fingers in his mouth biting gently, not breaking the skin, just a soft, gentle teething, then suckling as he p-u-u-u-r-r-r-r-s, Drax and Quill's jokes about using him to power the Milano coming full-force to the fore-front of your mind, as his purring is loud, the rumbling of a healthy engine idling, filling in the silence of the room.

The precious bebe in him must be dreaming, you think, doing your best not to laugh aloud lest you disturb and wake him. Curiously, the amazing being the asshole known as the High Evolutionary created seems to almost possess three personalities. There's the snarky, foul-mouthed Rocket, the "surface" Rocket; the being you know and love when he's fully awake. Then, there's the "child" Rocket, coming to the fore when he's alone with you, the one responsible for the nuzzling, nosing, cuddling, and snuggling Rocket seems to do when he's alone with you, bringing about your musical laughter and squeals, yet always looking at you as if to ask, 'Can I do this? Is this okay?'

The "child" never emerges fully--you suspect that if he did, there would be a lot of grief and tears as it was "child" who witnessed the death of his beloved friends; "surface" Rocket keeps him mostly reined in, and yet he's there; it's the way his eyes light up, the wag of his ringtail, the spring in his step when he wants to show you something new he's made, talking to you a million miles a minute even though you don't really understand half of what he's saying when he's showing you his latest weapon, explosive, or other invention.

And lastly... there's the younger, yet much, much older Rocket who emerges between the hours of dusk and dawn. Primal Rocket. Base animal Rocket. The persona you've taken to calling precious baby. Baby doesn't speak - you don't think he can - but he nip-nip-nippy-nips and lick-licks at your neck until you pet and pet and pet him, purring or trilling softly to you; he's the one emerged right now, chewing and suckling gently on your fingers when you scratched him under the chin, the one who lays with his head 'tween your breasts, looking at you with innocence as he soaks up your touch, pawing at your hand or nosing into your cleavage if you stop, making you laugh, drawing forth his own chitter.

You wonder privately to yourself if the three will ever become one... but even if they don't, or if his mind fractures further, he is Rocket, and no matter what happens, you'll always love and adore him. "By three he is Rocket. By three his heart opens. By your love willing he is called home. Your dearly beloved, Rocket Raccoon."

#rocket raccoon #for rfh #gotg #love #rocketraccoonpromptweek #prompt 'bite'

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moonjxsung · 6 months

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i got it done tuesday ! so its still very fresh in its healing process but so far it seems to be going fine :3 and yeah nip piercings hurt so bad 😭 but its so worth it nothing will stop me….

also i’m sorry abt what happened with the girl u were talking to, some people just suck and at least now u know she’s not worth ur time, even though it sucks.. love u star - puppy anon

Someone I know got her nippies pierced and she said it felt like someone biting a chuck out of her titty and it altered my entire perception of titty piercings 😭😭 I could NEVERRRRRR oh my god that sounds so painful you’re so brave frfr

Also thank u :(((( I’ll be fine I’m just MAD annoyed with myself for not catching on to red flags sooner and being so open with people. I need to stop yapping to girls lest they use my own vulnerabilities against me 😍🫶 slay

(I love u!!!! I hope you’re doing better than I am 🫶💖💕🩷💘💓)

#puppy anon <3 #ask

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sapphireviolets · 4 months

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Nippy Evenings | Chapter 5: Such a Tease

📖 read on Ao3 Rating M to E [minors DNI]

Tess x Reader fic | slow burn, enemies to lovers (if you squint), flirting with Tess, vulnerable Tess, smut, reader insert no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, nblw, bisexual Tess

(CW - Explicit Material Ahead)

Chapter 5: Such a Tease

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

She’s on you in an instant. Running her hands all over you as she pulls you up and out of your seat. Your lips clash together before softening into a slow, dreamy kiss.

You break apart when you’re both panting for air. Her eyes are wild and you run your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. The corner of her mouth lifts into the beginnings of a smirk and you capture it with yours. You trace your tongue along her lower lip and nip at it as she hums, content with letting you explore a bit. It’s her turn to twist her hands into your hair. She pulls you in closer and her nails gently scratch at the base of your neck.

You moan at the feeling, your mouth dropping open and she takes that opportunity to slip her tongue inside. You begin to feel lightheaded and tingly from the kiss and you pull back to look at her. Her face is flushed and her lips are shiny. Groaning at the sight of her wet lips and tousled hair, you begin walking backwards toward the couch, pulling Tess along.

There’s a somewhat smug look on her face. She is pleased at how turned on she appears to be making you. “Shut up,” you giggle, turning her so her legs hit the back of the couch. You all but shove her down onto it and slip your legs to either side of hers.

She chuckles, darkly. “Someone’s impatient,” she hums as you lick across her neck and bite down softly on her ear. You earn a moan from that and smile against her neck.

“I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you tease.

She grabs your hair and pulls you back to look at you. You whine with the pressure and grind down onto her lap.

“You’re surprised I lasted this long?” Her voice is husky, full of desire and need.

You nod, pulling slightly against her hand that gripped your hair, “You know, I thought I dreamed it but then after seeing how you looked at me. I’m guessing I didn’t.”

“Dreamed what?” She whispers, trying to keep her head above water. Her eyes are hungry, like they were that first night with the whiskey.

“What was it you said…I believe it was, ‘ Shit, Joel .’”

She lets go of your hair and for a moment you think you’ve made a mistake but she reaches both hands up to your button up and rips it open, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck,” you moan as she shoves your tank top up to reveal your breasts. You whine and wriggle in her lap as she takes in the sight of you.

“Patience, sweetheart . I can keep dragging this out.” She grabs your hips roughly to get you to stop squirming.

“Please, Tess,” you whisper.

“Tsk. Tsk. Already begging?”

“Hardly,” you pout.

“Mmm, nice tits.” She slowly licks around each nipple, not quite making contact with them.

“Tess.” You’re definitely begging now. She grins into your soft flesh and bites down on a nipple.

The gentle sting shoots electricity right to your clit. You can feel wetness pooling in your underwear. You try to stifle your moans, afraid you’ll wake the whole building but Tess reaches up and pulls your hand away from your mouth. “Uh-uh, sweetheart. Let me hear those pretty little sounds.”

“Jesus, fuck.” If she keeps talking like that you’re afraid you’re going to come without her even touching you. You reach for the hem of her shirt and tug. She adjusts to let you pull it over her head. As soon as she’s free of it your mouth goes straight to one of her boobs. You both moan deeply, yours muffled by her skin.

Your hand goes to the other nipple to tease and twist while her hands wrap into your hair, holding you close. It’s not long before you have her squirming. She gently pulls you back and you admire your work. There are small, delicate love marks across her chest. You were sure she’d tell Joel. But you wanted him to see it. See what you could do for her.

You stand and take your pants off, leaving your panties on. “What, now you’re exercising restraint?” Tess teases you and traces her fingers along the hem of your underwear.

You run your fingers up and down her arms earning a gasp and fluttering eyelids. “Don’t want to ruin your jeans,” you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

Tess’s eyes snap open, dark, “Ruin them.” And with that she strips them off your hips down to your ankles in a flash. You kick them to the side and climb onto one of her thighs.

You don’t immediately press down, suddenly growing shy. Tess senses that, “Do as you're told,” she states, voice low and commanding. Her change of tone makes more wetness leak out of you and you drip onto her jeans before even making contact. She growls at the sight and grabs your hips, roughly pushing you down to grind on her thigh.

With one hand she grabs your chin, with a surprising amount of gentleness, and makes you look at her, “Get yourself close, sweetheart. And I want a good show.” She then leans back and takes her hands off you, draping them along the back of the couch.

Your hormones overtake you and all shyness falls away. Any other time you’d be embarrassed by the noises your pussy was making as you rode her thigh but the way she was watching you… Like you were divinity in flesh all for her pleasure.

It didn’t take long for your arousal to soak through her pants. You could tell the moment it hit her skin because her breath changed suddenly and she started gripping the sofa. God you wanted her hands on you, badly.

“You could touch me, you know,” you manage to say between rocking your hips back and forth. The friction against your clit is heavenly and you begin to whimper as you feel the pressure building. Slowly but deliciously.

“Mmm,” Tess hums out watching you, “I said I wanted a show first. Plenty of time for touching later.” Her face is flushed and small beads of sweat appear at her hairline. All from the restraint she’s exerting from holding back her arousal.

You start to grind against her faster and start playing with your nipples. You pinch them one at a time as they bounce and sway along with your movements. You can feel her eyes locked on to your hands. As if she’s memorizing what to do for you, memorizing what you like. You cup and squeeze and massage your breasts and she soaks it all in.

You chance a look at her face and her mouth is parted, tongue slipping out occasionally to trace her bottom lip. You stop playing with your boobs and watch as her eyes shift to watch how your pussy is squished against her leg. Clit peeking out with every rock back and lips squished forward with every thrust closer to her body. She grips the sofa harder, knuckles getting white.

You grab the sofa on either side of her head and shift closer to her body. Your faces are inches apart as you change up your rhythm. You slow down your rutting and drag your cunt back and forth across her leg in a way you hope will mesmerize her. “Enjoying the show?” You whisper, voice cracking on a moan.

She lifts her eyes to yours. Her pupils are so dilated out you can barely see the green of her eyes. She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at you, watching your face contort with each wave of pleasure that hits your body. You shift your leg ever so slightly to bump your knee against her crotch. Her eyes roll back and her head follows. She pressed her lips shut to hold in her moan.

So you do it again. This time she can’t hold it in and she moans loudly. Her hands fly off the couch and grip your hips. You're sure to have bruises by the time she lets go. She pushes and pulls you to hump her leg faster, knee bumping her clothed pussy each time.

You moan and gasp as you feel your climax build. Each time you brush against her she allows small huffs to escape her mouth but she keeps the moans at bay by controlling the pressure. She’s definitely leaving bruises. The idea of her marking you in such a possessive, controlling manner makes you wild.

You start to outpace her direction as you chase your orgasm.

“I - I’m,” you stutter out. You’re seconds away from coming.

“Stop,” she pants out.

“What - why, please Tess.” You whine and beg as she pushes your hips off of her leg. You're now standing in front of her as she gazes at your body. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You huff and snake your hand down to press between your folds. Tess shoots up off the couch and grabs both of your arms, pinning them behind your back.

She pulls you in close and your breasts press against each other. You can feel her heartbeat and it’s racing, “Oh no, you’re mine right now sweetheart. I decide when you feel good.”

You’ve never been so turned on in your life. You take a few deep breaths to further press your boobs into her, loving the way her skin feels. You take in the sight of her, flushed, aroused, primed .

You can’t wait any longer, you need her to taste you, “Prove it.”

#slow burn #flirting with Tess #vulnerable Tess #reader insert no use of y/n #afab reader #wlw #nblw #bisexual Tess #tess servopoulos #tess x reader #hbo tlou #tlou tess #smut

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potatoes83 · 11 months

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Slice of life...

As much as I certainly don't appreciate the hyper jumping up/getting a bit nippy, especially taking two paws or a coconut head to the balls, there's no feeling in this world like coming home to a dog.

I had to go into work today, on a Saturday, put in 10 hours of paperwork, budget, invoices, correspondence, you name it. I certainly didn't want to, but you do what you need to. I do not miss deadlines, and I have a vacation coming up that's going to have me out of the office for 10 days. So yeah, going in on a Saturday is kind of a must.

And it's been grey and pissing rain all day long, I mean just freaking miserable. But I finally get done, or done enough, head home, open my front door, Capone's so excited he doesn't know what to do... so he headbutts, nips, and jumps, running around shaking toys, just losing his shit. Waffles looks at me, limping up from his bed, tail wagging, eyes sparkling, moving much slower, but equally delighted to see me. Both just deleriously happy that I am home.

That is the best feeling in the world. 🥔

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reclusiverisottonero · 2 years

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Somnophilia HCs with Prosciutto (Giving + Receiving, gn!Reader)

This is a follow up to the request made by @papersirens: "Can I get some head canons of somnophilia with risotto or prosciutto, giving and receiving? 👉👈" The fill for Risotto can be found here.

warnings for dubcon and: somnophilia (duh), handjobs, oral sex (reader receiving), penetrative sex, nippIe/chest play, creampie, tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible but if I’ve messed up somewhere don't hesitate to let me know and I'll correct it. If you think there should be additional warnings please let me know!

Everything else is below the cut!! Enjoy 😊

💕 Prosciutto On the Receiving End of Somnophilia:

You walked into the house later than usual thanks to a backlog of work and had told Prosciutto that morning not to wait up for you. For a moment you think he’s not even home, until you see the soft light of your desk lamp spilling from your room down the hall. Prosciutto’s laid out on top of the covers of your bed, hair loose and damp from showering, an open book laying over his chest indicates he didn’t take your comments to heart.

Sighing, you carefully take the book from him and place it on the nightstand, looking to see a cigarette snuffed out in the ashtray. A glass of alcohol sits next to it still half-full. So he hadn’t even been able to finish his nightcap? You chuckle at the thought of teasing him for that. As you go to wake him, you finally see the hard outline of his cock hiding underneath his robe.

You contemplate what you should do only for a second, hand cupping the warm length through the fabric. Why not wake Prosciutto up through more enjoyable methods? You trace light circles around the head and watch the fabric of his robe darken from the precum starting to stain it. Prosciutto groans much louder than he usually does when awake, tilting his hips into your touch. He softly hisses at the light drag of your nails against his tip, causing your thighs to clench with your own need.

Prosciutto’s robe is pushed aside easily enough, his cock a fine weight in your palm. It could even be described as pretty, uncut and the pink tip rapidly darkening to a needy shade of red. You start to leisurely stroke him off, leave nipping kisses along the strip of skin exposed by the top half of his robe. When you arrive at his throat Prosciutto puffs out a dreamy sigh, head leaning into you and cock twitching in your hand. You take it as a sign to move things along.

In your rush to take off your clothes you stumble and fall to the bed with more force than intended. You anticipate his reaction, relieved when all he does is grunt a little at the addition of your weight atop him. You make quick work of getting yourself ready to take his cock before you straddle him to grind your sex against his. Plant your hands on either side of his body to brace yourself and at this point you don’t know if you actually want him to wake up or not.

His cock catches on your entrance and you slowly start to sink down on his thick length with a soft grunt. Prosciutto’s breathing starts to become as heavy as your own. Bucks up into your heated body with another moan, around your name this time, and you gasp as the unrestrained force of it helps you bottom out. You keep things slow, with the light roll of your hips so the bed doesn’t jostle around too much.

Practically rip open Prosciutto’s robe to rake your nails down his pale chest even though he always complains about the bright red welts it leaves behind, but you both know he secretly loves it. His cock hits the parts of you where you need it most and you bite your lip to try and remain silent. The red marks around his pink little nipples feel like they’re taunting you to make them more of a mess. So you do, lean down to suck bruises along his neck while your fingers pinch and pull at his chest.

The rest of Prosciutto’s body remains soft and pliant beneath you despite it all, and he cums inside you with a soft grunt into your ear. You sit up to see his eyes rolling wild underneath their lids as you squeeze around his cock to milk his release for all he’s got. Your own isn’t far off, the last languid roll of his hips sending you over. Winded you fall over to the empty side of the bed, sidle up close to wrap your arms around Prosciutto’s waist. You give one last kiss to his bare shoulder before tucking your head into the crook of his neck to join him in slumber.

💖 Prosciutto On the Giving End of Somnophilia:

Prosciutto wakes up with a hard flinch and is relieved to find you still cuddled up to him, snoring softly into his chest. Another nightmare where he can’t remember anything but the feelings of helplessness and fear. Emotions he prefers to keep buried deep and not deal with at all, but with you sleeping allows himself the small indulgence. He adjusts his hold on you, presses his face against the top of your head to inhale your scent.

It starts with a kiss to the crown of your head, then to your brow, your cheek. Next thing he knows he’s rolled over on top of you and peppering light kisses to your lips and chin. Down to your neck to suck a bruise against the steady beat of your pulse. His lithe hands play with the waistband of your underwear, relish in the warmth of your skin.

When your snores become long sighs Prosciutto freezes, thinking for sure you’re about to wake. Instead you do the cutest cat-like stretch in your sleep and settle back deeper into the bed. It feels as if his heart is about to burst from his chest from the desperation he feels for you. Another thing he’ll allow so long as you remain asleep. He hikes up your shirt to kiss further downward, warm your now cold chest with his lips and the swirls of his tongue.

Your underwear comes off and he opens and throws your legs over his shoulders to draw out another soft sigh from you. Prosciutto cautiously lavishes his tongue across your sex, gauging your reactions to see if you’ll wake. Your thighs clench some around his face and you start to moan but show no signs of waking up. It motivates him to be more aggressive, using his hand now as well to make your legs quake from the pleasure.

Prosciutto shivers, cock nearly drilling a hole into the bed from how hard he is for you. Has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep silent as you make a mess of his face with your cum. He buries his face into the crease of your thigh when he can’t hold it back anymore, humps the bed in stuttered motions to take some of the edge off.

Once your moans and legs have settled down he sits up to finally take out his cock and starts jerking himself off over your body. As much as he’d prefer to take his time with you, he still feels so embarrassingly needy and the thought of you waking up and seeing him like this is both mortifying and making his cock throb. He looks down at your body and licks his lips to savor the taste of you, not able to care about the way locks of his hair stick to his face thanks to your cum.

He almost crashes on top of you from the force of his orgasm but thankfully lands beside you, his body from the waist down feeling like jelly. While Prosciutto’s arousal has been satiated there’s a subtle vibrating in the back of his mind telling him he needs more. He mentally scolds himself for letting his emotions get the best of him as he wipes down his face and your body with the edge of the sheets, rearranging your sleeping form to rest back on top of him.

That mental distress evaporates the instant your weight settles over him. Your comforting heartbeat against his own starts to lull him back under. He chuckles into the crown of your head, licks at his lips again. If you have any complaints about the state of your bedding when you wake up he can think of a few ways he can make it up to you.

#prosciutto x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto jojo #jjba prosciutto #jjba part 5 #my writing #hcs 💭#i hope this is okay i feel like it's not as good as the other one 😓

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

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Snippet for Home (On the Range): I'm curious about any past relationships Cody and Ben have had, and so if you feel up to it, I'd love to watch them have the conversation about past loves that always has to happen eventually. :D

:D GOOD MORNING! I almost said this was the first of the follow-ups for "Home (On the Range)" but, in fact, there've been two already aha. This is the first one set AFTER the fic, though only by a week or so.

This is a (not that) little Codywan snippet. Established relationship and it got VERY SPICY. Grown-up conversations ensue.

~~~~

The temperatures had dipped well into chilly, at least overnight, when Cody suggested they head out deep into the ranch one evening. “You can see every star up there,” he said, pulling Ben into a kiss. “Thought it might be nice. And we’ll want to do it before it gets any colder.”

Ben wondered if the suggestion had anything to do with the astronomy lessons he’d been prepping for class, even as he hummed agreement. They piled blankets into the bed of Cody’s truck, along a sleeping bag and a few thermoses full of something warm.

It was dark by the time they pulled up onto the ridge of a hill, deep inside the borders of the ranch. Cody turned the lights off, nothing but the rumble of the engine breaking the stillness of the night, and said, “It’ll take a bit for our eyes to adjust. Half an hour, maybe.”

“Oh, really?” Ben said, hooking a finger into the collar of Cody’s shirt and pulling him over, murmuring, against his mouth, “whatever shall we do to fill the time?”

Cody huffed a laugh, mouth welcoming and warm, swearing briefly when Ben added, after a beat, “You know, I’m not sure there’s any way I can fit into your lap over there.”

Cody’s eyes caught the light of the stars outside, just a little, as he rasped back, “Good thing we’ve got the entire bed of the truck, then.” And he popped open his door, allowing in the cooler outside air, even as he turned off the truck.

The air felt nippy on Ben’s face as they climbed up into the bed of the truck, but it wasn’t so bad, really. They’d spread out the sleeping bag along the bed, keeping away the chill of the metal, and there were plenty of blankets.

And, well.

Kissing Cody always warmed him up, anyway. Ben thought about pulling his close, the stars as yet unseen stretching overhead and the hills rolling all around them, the Tetons watching, sentinels in the distance.

Cody swore when his phone buzzed, pulling it out of his pocket and taking a step away from the truck as Ben finished sorting the blankets, considering that he’d never had sex in the back of a truck before. It seemed a nice idea, making love out under the endless sky.

He grimaced when he recalled that he’d left his wallet back at the house, condoms along with it, though he’d slid a packet of lube into his front pocket. He frowned, swinging over the side of the truck to see if Cody had brought his wallet, plucking it from his pocket as he said, “--Rex, I swear to God, if you try to come out here right now--”

He winked when Cody looked over at him, waving the wallet, and listening to Rex laugh, his voice distant and distorted through the phone.

Ben left them to it, climbing back up into the truck, flipping Cody’s wallet open, pleased to find a familiar little foil square tucked inside. He drew it out, planning to set it aside for use in a bit, when they needed it, and frowned.

It felt...odd.

He tilted it around - noting the brand - and peered at it in the light provided by the moon and the stars. He blinked, grabbed his own phone, and turned it on to get enough light to read it properly, sure that he’d misread the expiration date, because--

“Something wrong?” Cody asked, the truck dipping slightly as he stepped up onto the bed, apparently done with Rex.

“Well,” Ben said, putting down his phone and turning the condom in his fingers. “Aside from the fact that this condom expired five years ago, not really.”

Cody paused, still standing, looking down at him. “Oh,” he said, as Ben turned the little packet again and then, on a whim, tore it open. He’d never actually seen one expire before.

“Hm,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Apparently, they were not one of the things that stayed good, even long, long after they expired. Any moisture had long since disappeared. The condom itself looked like a dessicated snake skin, or something like it. “I don’t think this’ll work,” he added. “Though we could try rehydrating it, I suppose, I--”

“Let’s not do experiments on the condom,” Cody said, taking it out of his fingers and tucking it into a pocket. “Should we go back to the house? Get another one?” He sank down, close by, and Ben considered it, but--

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to entertain ourselves,” he said, looped an arm around Cody’s shoulders, and pulled him close.

He’d gotten familiar with the best ways to take off Cody’s clothes, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, tugging his undershirt out of his waistband. Cody pulled the blankets up around them, the warmth from his skin translating into Ben’s body as Ben shimmied out of his jeans, pulling his own shirt over his head.

The moonlight shone off of Cody’s skin, caught in the dark curls of his hair. Their breath steamed the air - the temperature had really plunged with the fall of night - but Ben didn’t feel cold, not as they tangled close together, trading kisses that set a fire in his veins, not with Cody putting off heat like a furnace, warm hands all over Ben’s skin.

And Ben had become rather fond of the idea of getting fucked under the stars, in the brief time he’d had to consider it. Just because it wasn’t going to happen the way he’d initially assumed didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen at all.

“Here,” he rasped, rolling onto his side, grabbing for the jeans and the lube in his pocket, pulling it out, “Here, like this, ah, Cody.”

Cody’s weight felt good against his back, warm and solid, Cody’s teeth scraping along the curve of his shoulder as he settled, taking the packet of lube from Ben’s fingers without any of the hesitation he’d displayed the first few times they were intimate with one another.

“Like this?” Cody rumbled, right against his shoulder, and Ben heard the wet movement of Cody slicking up his own cock, felt the smear of the rest of the lube over the back of his thighs and--

Exhaled, hard, when Cody ground against him, overheated flesh sliding together. Probably, they were making more of a mess than they should have done, out in the middle of some field, out in - in such an exposed place, but--

It was hard to care, with Cody sucking a kiss into his neck and grinding against him, panting out, “Spread your legs, just a little,” and when Ben listened, slotting his cock right between Ben’s thighs, rocking them together.

If there were anyone around, Ben hated to think what would have been overheard, the two of them swearing and gasping and groaning. He knew he cried out, loudly, when Cody slid a hand over his hip, gripping his cock and stroking him, so sure and so steady and--

Well.

The sleeping bag was going to need a wash when they got back home.

So was Ben, in all honesty.

He laughed, hoarsely, when Cody pulled away from him, leaving his inner thighs smeared with come. It was quite warm, at first, but Ben knew that wouldn’t last. “See,” he said, sprawling onto his side, thighs held apart, groping for something to wipe up with, “a condom would have prevented this mess.”

“Sorry about that,” Cody said, and then, “here, use my shirt.”

And then he used it himself, wiping up the mess all over Ben’s legs and cock. He even smeared away the mess on the sleeping bag, as best he could. Ben watched him - he was easier to see, Ben’s eyes must have adjusted, and said, “Why did you have an expired condom in your wallet, anyway?”

Cody balled his shirt up, the mess tucked away inside, and shrugged. He tossed it into one corner of the bed of the truck. “It’s just the one I’ve always had. I never really checked the date on it.”

Ben blinked, turning that over in his head, even as Cody settled close to him, naked under the blankets. Ben said, as Cody curled an arm around him. “The one you’ve always - you - what does that mean?”

Cody shrugged, stubble rasping against Ben’s shoulder, while Ben wondered if Cody had really avoided using a condom before, because that didn’t sound like him at all, and--

“I got it, ah, years ago. When I was - when I thought I might need it. But then I didn’t. I kept it, just in case. But…” He trailed off, shrugging again.

Ben blinked up at the clear, shining stars, and then rolled to face Cody, gut doing something strange. “Wait. Did you never--”

“I did stuff,” Cody said, still staring up at the stars. “A few times with, uh, with a guy I really liked. He competed, too. We were friends for a while. And then one day I just wanted to kiss him, so I did. And we, well. Fooled around, I guess. But then I beat him, pretty soundly, and he didn’t want to anymore.”

Ben blinked, processing that. He’d known that, sooner or later, they’d end up having a talk about their pasts. That kind of thing happened. “He didn’t want to anymore?” he asked, trying to get his mind around anyone not wanting Cody anymore, he was--

“Yeah, I guess.” Cody sighed, tucked his arm behind his head, and stared starward. “And I’d already bought the string of condoms, even though we’d only needed two. But then it was over, so. And I put one in my wallet.”

Ben watched his expression carefully. He didn’t seem upset. Just...relating the story. “And then you never used it,” Ben said, quietly.

“Never needed it,” Cody said, shrugging against the sleeping bag. “I’ve been busy since then. And didn’t have anyone I particularly wanted to use it with.”

“Oh,” Ben said, the cold air nipping at his exposed skin, but ever so warm under the blankets.

“What about you?” Cody asked, before he could wrangle another thought together. “Yours aren’t ever expired.”

“Ah, no,” Ben said, and then shrugged, settling against Cody’s side. “I’ve always been very careful to use them.” He felt his ears heat.

Cody hummed, curled an arm tighter around him, and said, “I know you’ve been with more people’n me, Ben. It doesn’t bother me. Hell, I’m glad one of us knows what we’re doing.”

Ben exhaled a little, snuggling in closer against the cold. It had, probably, been foolish to worry, to brace for disapproval. He traced patterns on Cody’s chest under the blanket and said, “I had no idea that you didn’t, ah, know what you were doing.”

Cody snorted, rolling onto his side, brushing a kiss to Ben’s cheek and then his mouth, fingers tracing down his spine. His expression, what Ben could see of it, looked a bit smug. “I learn fast,” he said, tone warm and low. “Especially when I get hands-on instruction.”

“I see that.” Ben crooked his mouth, brushing Cody’s hair back from his face. He figured, feeling soft and content, that if they were going to discuss their histories, he might as well finish it all, and went on, “I haven’t had many long relationships. Just...brief flings. A longer thing with a girl, right before I started college. And Luminara and I tried to make something work, once. But we’re much better friends than lovers.”

Cody nodded, said, “I never was very interested in girls.”

“Mm, I gathered.” He leaned in for another kiss, shivering when Cody brushed his callused fingers a little lower. He rasped, gut tightening, “Don’t tease.”

“Sorry,” Cody murmured, nipping his bottom lip. “And sorry we don’t have all the supplies we need.” Ben hummed, not overly concerned by the lack, not when they could trade sweet, lazy kisses, occasionally glancing at the stars, until Cody went on, “You know. We could - well. We’re together. Just the two of us.”

Ben turned away from his contemplation of a constellation he couldn’t name, nodding, and Cody went on, “We could get tested. I mean. I don’t think I could have caught anything, to be honest. And if I had, I think I’d have noticed in the last couple of years. And you’ve been careful, you said. But better to check. And then…”

He shrugged, and Ben considered it. He’d never slept with anyone skin on skin. Qui-Gon had been exceedingly clear about all the possible consequences of skipping out on protection. Even with Satine, young and giddy half the time, he’d always been careful.

But - he didn’t plan to share his bed with anyone else, he considered, staring across at Cody in the dark, under the brilliant light of the stars and the moon. He didn’t want to kiss anyone else. Or pull anyone else close in the night.

His heart ached in his chest, sweetly, and he said, “And then we wouldn’t need supplies to have sex in the back of your truck?”

“Mm,” Cody said, rolling closer to him, one elbow braced by his head, leaning down to kiss him, “Or to make love under the stars, either.”

Ben shivered, curled an arm around him, and felt his stomach swoop, imagining that, imagining them skin to skin everywhere. He said, his voice gone to a rasp, “That sounds very nice,” and Cody smiled against his mouth, kissing him again.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #home (on the range)#the cowboy au #follow ups #snippets #codywan #SPICY #enjoy!

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Ficlet about waking up with Frankie

Just a thing I speed wrote at the breakfast table because I cannot today. Frankie x reader/you, kissing, a hand on a breast but no smut, just soft!Frankie.

The alarm tears through your dreamless sleep and you venture an arm out from under the warmth of the covers to turn it off. When the offensive noise has been silenced, you turn on the bedside lamp before quickly retreat your arm back to the safety of the covers, warmed up by your body and Frankie's.

Speaking of Frankie: his hand comes sliding down your back before you feel his whiskers scraping the back of your neck.

"Good morning," he rasps, sending a shiver down your spine along with his trailing fingers. You only groan in reply and press back against him, curling up around yourself, stubborning refusing to accept that it is morning. It seems to come sooner and sooner every night, despite them growing darker and darker. The air in your bedroom feels nippy and you usually don't mind that, don't mind fall, but it's just so soon and everything seems to be moving so fast now.

The neck kisses Frankie is administering seem to grow more insistent and you pull your shoulders up to prevent him from taking it any further. Lord knows you love waking up like this but you know what this is going to lead to and you don't have time, you're so stressed as it is, you have to get out of bed and get the day started, go to work, deal with the five million things on your plate today.

You roll over onto your back and blink your eyes open at his sleepy, smiling face in the soft light.

"Morning."

"Mmm. My favorite sight."

You smile, but then you notice that he's not looking at your face but at your chest. The covers have slid down slightly, and your sleep shirt is twisted so that the v-neck has positioned itself right over one of your breasts, exposing the soft flesh right down to the nipple, which is perking underneath the thin fabric. You roll you eyes with huff, which turns into a whiny hum when your man grabs your breast and tweaks the nipple.

"Frankie," you protest, conflicted about what you want, what you need, what you must and should.

"I know." He lets go of your breast and smiles at you. "I know, baby."

You sigh again, stretching your arms and legs, wrapping your arms around the pillow above your head.

"A kiss?" you beg coquettishly, earning yourself a playful grimace.

"You have morning breath."

"Meanie!"

You take his hand and put it back on your breast.

"How about now?"

"Guess I can stomach it..."

He kisses you softly, morning breaths mingling, his dry lips gently nipping at yours, just only parting lips, tongues barely touching.

"Hmm," you hum when he finishes with a small kiss to the tip of your nose. "That's nice."

"Plenty more where that came from, sweetheart."

He gives your breast one final, mischievous honk before rolling away from you and getting out of bed.

"If you don't get up now, you'll be even more stressed. Come on, get your ass in gear. You won't get less tired from lounging."

"Yes, sarge," you sigh, actually happy about Frankie's way of gently pushing you without any tacky motivational speeches. As you move past him on your way to the bathroom, you receive butt slap.

"Atta girl."

"Just all over my body this morning..." you mutter, giving him a meek shove.

"You love it. You take the bathroom first, I'll make your tea."

#my fic #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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goodboylupin · 4 years

Text

On A Cold Autumn’s Night

Written for Day 20 of @remus-john-lupin‘s holiday prompt fest: Frost. Beta’ed by the ever-ready @kattlupin. Part of A String of Christmas Lights.

Sirius Black woke from his sleep to darkness and frigid cold.

For one terrifying, heart stopping moment, the thought flashed through his mind: Dementors? But no, there was no fear with the cold, no desolation working its way into his bones. The air did not smell of anguish, his ears did not ring with the echoes of screams and spellfire and death. He thought of James’s smile, Lily’s eyes, Remus’s kiss, Harry’s laughter, and the thoughts stayed safe and untainted in his own mind.

No, not Dementors.

He turned his head to look out the window, and saw the branches of a cherry tree sparkling with the first frost of winter, earlier than they would have anticipated.

Beside him, Remus grunted and turned over. “The fire went out,” he accused, words slurred with sleep, and pulled the bedclothes up to his chin.

“The fire didn’t go out,” Sirius said, reasonably sure though he had not gone downstairs to check and had no intention of leaving the cozy confines of their bed to do so. “I just had it set to smoulder overnight.”

“’S your turn to take care of the fire.”

Sirius grabbed his watch from the nightstand to check the time — five in the morning. “You know,” he began. “Harry won’t wake up for another hour, at least.”

That woke Remus up. “Oh?”

Sirius hummed a confirmation. “Can’t remember the last time we had such a long stretch of morning to enjoy one other.”

Remus looked over Sirius’s shoulder at the pitch black of a sky before dawn. Sirius knew what he was thinking, that this really wouldn’t count as morning sex by most reasonable standards.

As parents to such an active early bird as Harry, their standards were not reasonable.

“Bit... nippy for that, don’t you think?” Remus asked with an arched brow, tamping down a smile.

“I’ll warm you up,” Sirius promised. He cupped Remus’s knees and spread his legs apart, crawling into the space between them.

Remus giggled and threw his head back, letting Sirius nip at his neck. He wrapped his legs tight around Sirius’s hips and snuck his hands under the warm cotton of his old band tee, warming his fingers against the ridges of Sirius’s spine. “Love you,” he murmured.

“Love you,” Sirius murmured back, reaching for the drawstring of his sleep trousers.

A knock sounded on their door, and they pulled away from each other as if electrified.

“Dadfoot?” Harry called from the other side of the door, quiet enough not to shatter the solemnity of night but loud enough to have woken at least one of them if they had been asleep. “Moomy?”

“Did we lock the door?” Remus whispered.

They had not. The knob turned with a quiet snick and the door began to creep open.

Sirius grabbed his wand and waved it over the both of their heads in a harsh, narrow vee. “Mollescamore!”

He shuddered as the Love Calming Charm, colloquially known as the Cold Shower Spell, washed over him, starting at the base of his neck and trickling down to kill all lingering arousal.

Beside him, Remus groaned in defeat, turning over to bury his face in a pillow and pulling the blanket all the way over his head.

Harry entered the room on quiet feet, his duvet wrapped around his shoulders and trailing behind him like when he used to play dress up with their formal cloaks. He stopped at the foot of the bed. “It’s really cold, Dadfoot.”

“We weren’t expecting a cold snap tonight.”

“It’s really cold,” Harry repeated emphatically, expectantly.

Sirius knew that this was the time when he really ought to have gotten out of bed to stoke the fire, but, as Harry said, it was really cold. He lifted his corner of the blanket in invitation. “It’ll be warmer if we all cuddle up together.”

And though Harry now considered himself too grown up to share the bed with his parents anymore unless he was recovering from a nightmare, just a couple years away from Hogwarts, he accepted the invitation without a second’s hesitation. Immediately, he dropped his duvet and crawled over Sirius — briefly kneeing him in the gut — to settle down in the middle of the bed.

Remus, without lifting his head, shuffled closer and threw an arm over the both of them.

Sirius flicked his wand one last time at the abandoned duvet to layer it on top of their blanket, stuck his wand back under his pillow, and quickly joined his family in slumber.

#tp #HP #wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #RAISING HARRY #Harry Potter #**#**text #**myfic #remus x sirius

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lolpascals · 4 years

Note

okay I haven’t stopped thinking about the nippie prompt so what about York, Javi, or Whiskey with an ‘innocent’ s/o. Like they dress all innocent and act all innocent, but when their in the bedroom for the first time—she’s got a sternum tattoo and her nips pierced ‼️ they’d just be like 🥵👀

surprise, surprise.

(JAVIER PEÑA X READER)

a/n: i'm most familiar with javier, so i wrote for him, i hope that's okay! as i become more familiar with whiskey and york i'll write about them !! this is literally my first ever piece of work on tumblr, scary!! but i hope it's okay :)

warnings: degradation, seggsy time, nipple piercings, slight slapping, little spitting, mentions of an innocence kink, dom!javi, think that's it?

y/n sat on the edge of javier's bed. her thighs pressed together, hands face down on her thighs and her head bowed down as she stared at the freckles on her legs.

"such an obedient little thing, aren't you?" javier cooed at her smaller figure, he stood before her half-naked figure, he himself fully clothed. he looked over her, his tall and large frame surrounding her.

he absolutely adored the dynamic between the two, the power play. he was the older, more experienced man and held the control in the relationship, while she was his angel. the slightly younger, 'innocent' girl who he had managed to woo.

"arms up." his voice was low and gentle, but still held that unwavering dominance that he carried. she obviously obeyed, holding her arms up and though slightly nervous with anticipation, allowed him to pull her last piece of offending clothing, her t-shirt off of her frame.

his gentle gaze faltered for a moment, his eyes widening and his lips parting in disbelief as his eyes rake over y/n's form. but then his eyes are darkening, his jaw clenches and his hands form fists.

he stares down at her through hooded eyes as she avoided his gaze, and he snags her jaw firmly in his hand, harshly pulling her to meet his gaze. "what is this?" he questions, though it sounded more like a statement. when he is met with silence, he speaks up again, "hm? you just weren't going to tell me?"

she shakes her feverishly, "no, papi! 'course i was gonna tell you." and he stares at her expectantly. "just...didn't know how to."

javi chuckled darkly, and lifts her by her underarms and places her higher on the bed, her head resting on the pillows and her hair fawning around her. he traces his pointer finger lightly along the pattern of the ornamental tattoo decorating her sternum. "didnt know how to tell me that you were just a whore?" he scoffed.

"huh, who knew. here i was thinking you were my sweet little angel, bebita. wasn't expecting to have a little slut like you on my hands, cariño." his eyes trained on his finger. she goes to protest, that she is his little angel, but as soon as her mouth opens, her head turns at the force of the slap that javiers lands against her cheek, and she decides to keep her mouth shut.

his finger travels further to meet her left breast, and he traces it around her boob, watching as she whines at the lack of attention. he grasps her breasts in both hands and squeezes with such force that tears form in her eyes.

his thumbs rub at her nipples, feeling the cool metal of the barbells through the perks. he tugs at them with two fingers experimentally and y/n cries out.

javi grins wickedly and lets his saliva pool in his mouth, before he spits directly onto her sensitive bud, repeating with the other and he begins to pull and pinch at the piercings, watching fat hot tears roll down his girls cheeks.

without warning, his touch left her and she whimpered, and he swiftly flipped them over. y/n sat straddling his lap, her body sagging limply as she panted. he ran his fingers through her folds as she moaned into his neck and nipped at the skin.

he pinched her clit, hard, between two fingers and she tried to pull away from his touch at the painful yet pleasurable feeling, but his grip on her thigh kept her down. "aw, my bebé's sweet little flower is so sensitive, huh?"

he dragged his sweatpants down and he lifted her by her hips, keeping her hovering over him as her legs shook, and he teased her sopping tiny hole with the head of his cock. she clenched around nothing and and scratched at his shoulders.

he suddenly pulled her back down and impaled her on his thick, huge cock all at once and she gasped for air, the wind practically being knocked out of her. "c'mon, wan' you to ride me like the little cockslut i know you are." "been hidin from me all this time." "qué te pasa? oh your nipples are sensitive? oh, what a shame." and he only pulls harder.

"i might have known the bitch could bite, that the cat had claws, princesa."

she was in for a long fucking night.

#javier peña #dom!javi #dom!javier #narcos #pedro pascal #smut #narcos smut #pedro pascal smut #javier peña smut

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yuichi-ro · 2 years

Text

Asakaze x best friend!Reader

cw: fem!Reader, no explicit sex but it’s discussed, spoilers for the anime, angst/fluff, toxic interactions, nonsexual nudity, pining, unedited

word count: 2k

Listless beside him. You laid staring up as tendrils of your breath swirled around you in the chilly air. Asakaze motionless and head buried in the covers barely an arms length away from you. So engulfed you couldn’t even see the top of his black mop. So you gathered the blankets. Gathered them all in fact.

Only one left on him. One that wouldn’t be warm enough in this artic other world. Asakaze finally peeked his head out from under the blanket. Motionless in bed even as you clutched the rest of them to your chest.

First setting his gaze on the dip of your naked back. Following it before coming to look at your bare ass as you got up from the bed you had both shared. Even in this chill he could feel the flush creep to his cheeks.

“...you’re going to freeze.” Asakaze muttered adverting his eyes from your naked silhouette.

Words falling on nothing. You clutched the blankets tighter to your chest. Feeling the warmth seeping from them each passing second you stood there. Nippy air already sending goosebumps up your bare spine when it touched your skin and swirled around your ankles in this empty constructed room of Asakaze’s making. Unfazed by that or his words. Your eyes drifted outwards.

Steadfast you stared out at the vast whiteness that you would say reminded you of the artic. If you actually knew what the arctic looked like before all this drifting happened.

“...how long are we going to do this?” You finally asked of the frost bitten pane of glass before you. A sliver of your reflection looking back at you. But above all else you could see Asakaze sitting up in bed and staring up at you, “She’s dead you know.”

The dark haired man dropped his head. Lowered between his legs as just the thin blanket you’d left him was all that he had to cover his naked body.

“So.” You broke away from the reflection of the two of you just to see the same exact thing you saw in the window, “How long are we going to do this?”

“Do what?” Asakaze grumbled refusing to lift his head. A hand coming up to card his fingers through his own hair, “We just had sex. What else do you want?”

Skin nipped with cold. Still you stood with only half of your body being shielded from the cold air.

“You created death. So this is what we do now before we inevitably die?” Your thighs cool from the lewd moisture that clung to them after such things, “Why don’t we leave with Nagara?”

When you asked him this before. He’d get defensive. Sometimes he’d get angry. Other times he’d cry. But the answer was always the same.

“...I don’t know.” Asakaze muttered.

“You don’t know?” You spoke clearer than he was, “You don’t know if you want to go back?”

“No it’s just I-”

“Is it because I don’t look like her?” You dropped the covers. Revealing to him every inch of your bare skin. Though moments before you were both wrapped in carnal desire. Now Asakaze couldn’t bring himself to look at your naked body without heat creeping onto his cheeks, “I can change that you know? I can look like anything you want.”

In the blink of an eye your familiar body stayed the same but your face. Now that was a sight to behold. Looking down at him was Nozimi. But when you opened your mouth all he heard was you.

“You loved her right? Or you were just mad that you couldn’t have her?” Nozimi’s face, your words.

Asakaze gripped the sheet over his thighs but refusing to look up, “You know that’s not true.”

“What part isn’t true?”

“I didn’t love her I just-”

“Wanted everyone to respect you even if they had no reason to?” Your face morphed back into the one he’d always known. The one he grew up with. You looked like you once more as you stood naked in front of him, “If it’s not that then, should I look more like Ms. Aki? Is that what would make things different? You did listen to her so much better than your best friend.”

Once more you couldn’t change the way the flesh appeared. What stared back at him naked as the day you were born, was the face of the voice of reason to all his wrong doings. Ms. Aki’s face stitched onto your body. It made his stomach lurch in his throat seeing it once more.

“Stop-” Asakaze shook his head wanting this to end, “Come back to bed. You’re going to get cold- You’re going to-”

“Die?” Your voice. And when he looked up Asakaze let out a breath of relief to see it was your face looking back at him, “...thanks to you, we can die here too now Asakaze. You were God’s chosen one...but you left with me.”

Silently he reached up to wipe at his eyes. It’d been like this for over five hundred years now. He left with you like you asked. But he was realizing he should have taken your hand when you all stepped foot on the island other world. He’d grabbed for you but it seemed too late.

“Maybe this form will make it better?” You stepped to him. Asakaze looked up and saw you. But it was a version of you that looked so other worldly. Wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. Breasts sagging like that of an old woman. Your bush overgrown like you’d stopped caring ages ago. You looked just so old to him, “Make you aware of what you’re getting into? Because we go back, we might as well admit to wanting to die. That’s what aging is, right?”

“No its not,” Asakaze couldn’t look away from you. He’d thought so long about growing old with you back in the real world. Being sent a drift like this, he truly forgot all his plans from the true version of himself, “Growing old is...something I always thought about when I thought of you?”

“Oh yeah?” Your skin rippled. Reforming not to the same figure. This time to a much younger version of yourself. One that Asakaze forgot about. Back when you were just little kids. Of course he’d never seen you naked but it wasn’t your body he was looking at, “What about this form? From when we were kids? Young, stupid, no cares in the world.”

“That still isn’t true either,” Asakaze suddenly remembered what happened at the age you were at, “That was the age I had to move. To a different apartment complex. We- We couldn’t walk to school together anymore.”

“But we still managed,” Another blink of an eye and you were a slightly older version of yourself. Perhaps fifth grade, it was hard to tell when nothing really mattered in these other worlds, “I figured out short cuts to your new home. We still walked together. We stuck together. Until we didn’t that is.”

Asakaze watched as you shifted into a naked version of the sixth grade you he remembered. Haircut and all. Bile rising in his stomach because he knew what you were about to say.

“When it was too uncool to be seen with me. And you shoved me down in the dirt next to the river.” You stood naked at the foot of the bed staring at him, “Because those other kids thought hanging out with girls were weird. And since I wasn’t your girlfriend, I didn’t matter right?”

“You always mattered,” Asakaze’s brows dipped down in a furrow.

“Not as much as what others thought of you though,” You shifted into the version of yourself that went a drift with him all those thousands of years ago, “Or what those that rejected you mattered. So which is it, do you want me to look like her? Or a version of myself you can reason with?”

Clutching at his hair Asakaze leaned over into his knees pushing his hair off his face and just repeatedly shaking his head looking at his lap, “...I wanted to ask you out, at graduation. I vividly remember rehearsing what I was going to say to you too. Then- We drifted.”

“And you were suddenly a loser chosen by God,” Your skin covered in goosebumps. Perhaps you’d really die of the cold. After all it was Asakaze who made it possible to experience death in this once untouchable world now wasn’t he, “...tell me one thing.” His brown eyes did meet yours in that moment, “...have you ever loved me?”

Silence. Really an answer enough. And as you resided to knowing what your role was in this life. Asakaze surprised you by grabbing your wrist. Not to pull you down but to squeeze you and feel your skin against his once more, “...I’ve always loved you. But I was-” Asakaze squeezed your arm shaking his head, “-I am still scared of what you’d say back. Because I never gave you a reason to love me back.”

“So you did all this?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Standing naked while he sat naked in bed of all things.

“Wanted to make you hate me,” Asakaze muttered with listless eyes cast elsewhere, “...Felt like the right thing to do.”

You were really cold. Taking your wrist out of his hand. Just to bend down and gather all the blankets you had taken with you. Asakaze watched you set them on the bed. Certain you would leave. Leave him and go home like you wanted. Instead he felt the bed shift and you come closer to him. Naked above the covers as he stayed wrapped up in the thin one draped on his lap. Kneeling before him he looked up at you with tears brimming on his lashes.

“I...want to make new memories with you.” You let your tongue dart over your bottom lip and mulled about your words, “I...would like to know what it’s like if you asked me out. Because, well, in my heard. We’ve already grown old and died millions of times. So that part, doesn’t really scare me all that much. But you want to know what scares me?”

Asakaze blinked. Enthralled with your words for the first time in forever.

“I’m scared of never knowing if you ask me.” You reached out and cupped his cheek. Expecting stark contrast of your cold palm against his warm cheek. Only to find it was as cold as your fingertips. Asakaze leaned into your touch but didn’t shut his eyes. Instead reaching up to cup your hand and press it firmer into his cheek, “So, will you ask me?”

Asakaze shifted his hand against your. Wanting to turn away and close his eyes. Like he had been doing since that day. It wasn’t the answer though. Not one that would make him proud.

“...I want to ask the version of you I can grow old with.” Asakaze said softly. Looking at you smiling across at him, “The version of you that, I guess could tell me no. But-” He swallowed the lump in his throat, “That’s the version of you I want to live with forever.”

“Forever means in here Asakaze.” You swiped your thumb over his cheek, “Out there, we’ll die for sure.”

“I know.” He leaned in and finally laid his forehead against your shoulder. Wrapping his arms around your cold waist. Just to grab the blankets he could and pile them up around you best he could before leaning back and looking at you now much more comfortable in the warmth of the blankets with him, “But out there I’ll get to live with you.”

“And that’s better than being the chosen one in here?” You cocked an eyebrow up.

Asakaze, without a hint of a smile on his face, pushed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes knowing the two of you would be leaving this place soon to go find the way home, “Yeah. It’s better, because that’s a version I get to finally be with you.”

#sonny boy #sonny boy angst #sonny boy x reader #asakaze #asakaze x reader

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Muggle Contraption

Pairing: Newt Scamander x reader Requested by: anon Prompts: A8 (with toys), A14 (face sitting), from smut list Summary: Newt finds an intriguing muggle device while looking for some plasters... AN: The original request had like 5 of the smut prompts in it, so I’ve ended up splitting it between a few different imagines :) also this is my first time writing for Newt Scamander, so I hope it’s okay!! Warnings: Toys, face-sitting, smut.

“They’ve got to be here somewhere,” newt mused aloud, searching through the drawers, careful not to drip blood on anything. One of his creatures had given him a little nip. He wasn’t angry with Roger, not in the slightest- poor little thing must be in terrible pain with that swollen ankle of his. He’d have to have a proper look at it tomorrow once he’d bribed him out of his little hollow with plenty of leaves...

Still, having run out of his own bandages, newt was looking through your makeup drawers- he’d seen you using cotton wool pads to remove your eye makeup a few times. they would do the trick.

Aha! He found the cotton pads and picked them up, fumbling with his hand for a moment. He was about to put them back when he noticed something shiny in the draw. odd. You kept your lipsticks in the drawer above. He shrugged, picking up the item and getting ready to put it in the right drawer when he stopped. It was smooth metal, much too heavy, and a little too long and thick to be a lipstick. had you gotten a new one? he smiled, twisting the top. He hoped it was a new red one... you always looked so lovely with red lipsticks...

It was not a red lipstick. The little metal cylinder started buzzing angrily at him and he almost dropped it in surprise. “Finate,” he mumbled, but the buzzing didn’t cease. It was a muggle contraption then. He fiddled around with the top again, frowning as it only seemed to buzz harder, before twisting it the other way. He let out a sigh as it stopped, and he quickly set it back where he found it. he would have to ask you about this when you got back.

“How was your day?” you asked as you finished your dinner, moving to wash the dishes.

“Alright,” newt replied. “Roger got a little nippy though,”

“Poor dear. Is his ankle still sore?” you hummed, setting the scrubbing brush to do its job by magic as you dried your hands and went to see newt. You picked up his hand and inspected it.

“I used some of your cotton pads,” he said softly, looking up at you shyly as you kissed the little mark on his hand. It was healing over nicely.

“That’s alright. They have something in them that stops them from irritating my face. Must’ve cleaned the bite mark up,” you mused, kissing his cheek.

“YN... did you know your new lipstick buzzes?” he blurted and you looked up, blushing deeply.

“New lipst-oh...” you whispered, shutting your eyes.

“Is that magical too? Because I don’t think you need anything to enhance your lips, YN... they’re beautiful,” he said bashfully, trying to get you to look at him.

“It’s not... It’s not lipstick, love,” you mumbled, shifting in your seat. “It’s... it’s a vibrator,”

It was quiet for a second before newt asked “What’s it meant to do? Vibrate, obviously, but what for?”

you blushed even more, burying your face in your hands. “For... to... it’s a toy, Newt,” he looked more confused than ever. “A sex toy. Wizard’s don’t really have them, there’s spells and stuff but, I... I like the muggle version,”

Newt’s mouth formed a little ‘O’ shape. “could you... could you show me, YN?” he asked quietly, as red as you, possibly even redder. You shifted on the spot for a second before nodding, leading him to the bedroom.

You drew the curtains and switched on the lamps, before retrieving the toy from its place. You turned to see Newt standing on the spot. “Lay on the bed, darling, next to me,” you said gently. “You can take your clothes off if you want. I’m taking mine off. It’s comfier that way, but I don’t mind if you-”

“YN, relax,” he said gently. “Come here beautiful, lets get you out of that dress,” you blushed, flinging the toy on the bed and letting Newt slowly undress you. You clambered into bed next to him, pleased that he was shimmying out of his trousers and shirt.

You nibbled your lip as you turned the toy on its lowest setting. “Okay...” you murmured, calming your nerves as you laid back, relaxing into the pillows, as you trailed the toy up your thighs, teasing them open, before running it up to your tummy and breasts. You repeated this motion several times, biting your lip and letting out little sighs as the vibrations ran through your skin. You turned it up to medium, paying close attention to your nipples, circling the buzzing tip around the peaking buds. You let out a soft moan, arching your back slightly, and Newt swallowed a groan

“M-May I?” he asked, and you looked over at him with needy eyes, pupils dark as you nodded. You handed him the toy and he smiled, kissing your temple and turning onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “You’re so beautiful, YN,” he whispered, copying your earlier actions on your nipples, ducking down to lick gently when the toy was on the other. You moaned quietly, spreading your legs, feet together.

“newt,” you moaned quietly, stroking your fingers through his hair. “please... please use it on my... my...” you couldn't finish your sentence, because newt smiled and obeyed your every wish, holding the vibrating cylinder to you aching clit. You whimpered softly, tipping your head back. Newt hummed softly, reaching to kiss you, still holding the toy on you, but pressing just that little bit harder. You panted and wriggled, tangling your hands in his hair and-

You were coming. He swallowed your moans, kissing you gently, and soon eased off the pressure on your clit. You still jolted and spasmed, crying out softly. He chuckled gently, setting the toy aside and tugging you into his chest. “I imagine it must feel very... pleasant,” he said after a moment.

“Would you like to try?” you asked, your voice soft and small, but already filled with longing despite your earlier release.

He looked at you with wide eyes for a moment, before nodding. you pushed him gently onto his back and slipped his underwear down his thighs, tossing it aside. “YN... darling, I want... I want...”

“Want what, darling,” you asked gently, knowing he often blushed and bumbled over his dirtiest requests. “Can’t give you what you want if I don’t know what it is,” he nodded and took a breath.

“I’d like you to... to ride my mouth, while you do... it,” he babbled. “Please,” he added on the end, and your heart melted. you nodded, allowing him to hoist your thighs up either side of face, bending you in a sort of 69 position.

“Ready?” you asked quietly, and he nodded, his tentative tongue already flickering over your sensitive pussy. You groaned quietly, switching the toy on and swirling it gently over his inner thighs, pleased to see his muscles twitch slightly. When you let it trace over the underside of his balls, right where they joined to his perineum, he let out a high groan, which vibrated against your entrance as he probed it with his tongue. You grinned slightly, trailing it up between his balls, letting it rest on the underside of his shaft for a moment, letting him feel the vibration as he swirled his tongue around your clit. You were both already throbbing, but neither of you were quite done yet.Swallowing back a whimper, you switched up the setting, letting him feel the hard buzzing on the head of his cock.

That seemed to set something alight in him. He gripped your thighs hard, sucking your clit harder than he ever had before as you pressed the very tip of the toy to the head on his cock, teasing the slit slightly.

“YN,” he moaned lowly against you, thighs quivering uncontrollably.

“Let go, baby,” you moaned, sitting up and riding his face properly still holding the vibe to his cock, albeit a little clumsy now. He let out a cry against your soaked heat as he came, his come splattering your hands as he bucked his hips desperately. You whined out louder, as you came, clenching on his tongue. Tigether, you rode out your highs, quivering, shaky and panting as you flopped next to him, cleaning the toy and bedsheets, licking his come from your fingers as he wiped his mouth. You vanished the toy back to its drawer and nuzzled into his side.

“That was... wow,” you murmured, hooking your leg over his as he drew the covers over you. He held you close, kissing your head gently.

“You’re so very beautiful, YN,” he mumbled, already exhausted from the intense orgasm you had gotten out of him. You smiled and kissed him gently. As you settled down to sleep, you couldn’t help but imagine his face if you told him there were toys designed specifically for penises and prostates...

Tag List: @obsessedwithrandomthings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @axriel @hiddensapphic @samnblack @tinylumpiaa @in-slytherin-we-trust @thatoneasrastan @emmaloo21

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander smut #prompts #requests #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts imagine #fantastic beasts smut

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friendsim-more-like-lovesim · 4 years

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i love your troll biology head canons!!! idk if you’ve done this yet, but can you bless us with content pertaining to noises like chirps and purrs? i’ve seen people hc that they make noises at frequencies that humans can’t hear, or chuff like lions and such. while i do think they do purr, i think it would more buggy (bug-like?) than a mammal (@ how trolls reproduce) what are your thoughts specifically? 💖 you make excellent content 😘

anon you are speaking exactly my language and i thank you for once again opening these floodgates. and thank youu~!!💖

I love the thought of them being able to make noises in a range that humans can’t hear! especially low noises - i really like the idea of trolls having a lot deeper voices than humans (since i hc them to be so big) and it’d make sense for their growls and purrs to be at a low frequency as well!!

purring and bug-clicking are the most common troll noise headcanons i think(?) and i’m totally on board. If you know my blog that probably shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone skdjkd

my personal headcanon is that their noises differ slightly from caste to caste, alpthough i know biologically this doesn’t make the most sense but. i have my reasons. let me map it out for y’all:

(get ready for headcanon infodump)

Lowbloods (burgundy through mustard)

• A lowbloods biology is more engineered towards “peasant-work” so to say; getting their hands dirty and being more in tune with the organic ground-level part of society.

• Alternia wants the lowest casts to be out of sight, and out of mind for the most part really. So while trolls are naturally able to produce louder sounds than humans, lowbloods have evolved to be more on the quieter side. Forced submission in the way of silencing them by the state, un-natural selection, if you will. We don’t know if the same rules would apply without the tyranny.

• gold bloods are a bit of a grey-area here, slightly less mammalian than the rusts but not really noticeably so

• Their purrs and chirps would be more light and gentle sounding, easy to hear even with human ears, and not too distracting. tends to be more rumble-y

Midbloods (potentially lime, olive through teal)

• We don’t really have any information about limes concerning sounds, other than a soothing kind of quality to them? not sure on that one

• Olives! Olives are by far the caste with the most mammal traits, think about people like nepeta and konyyl - they’re built for wildlife survival and have many cat/lion like qualities

sure, all people within a caste are different, but i think you see where i’m coming from with this.

•Jades and Teals are where we get progressively more insectoid, although the jades are probably more insect-like than the teals. Teals have more outside input in their biology, small mammalian inputs to their dna; whereas jades are engineered to be stuck in a cave in the dark, following instructions and working like an ant colony.

• They would purr and chirp similarly to lowerbloods, but it would sound less gentle and more strong and almost (as if) intentional. Olives purr the most out of anyone, often not on purpose though. They have a tendency to let their content noises slip through without their permission.

Mid-High (cerulean and indigo blue)

• so this is interesting because there’s the whole nip-debate with the indigos, and they also drink milk which are obviously mammalian traits but i’ll get back to that ok

• Let’s look at ceruleans first. I don’t know what led me to this decision, but i always imagined them to be one of the most insectoid castes? Maybe it’s because of the the whole arachnid/scorpio thing, but i always thought the upper midbloods/lower highbloods would be the most insect-like.

• now back to the indigos, the uh. milk and nippie talk really does complicate things for me. I do believe they’re not as buggy as the ceruleans, but not as mammalian as the lowerbloods. PERSONALLY i don’t like the ‘trolls with nips’ thing. It just? doesn’t really make sense to me?? with their biology??? I don’t think they’d have bellybuttons either. But anyway. this is kinda off topic at this point but i’ve discussed this before

• Their noises and clicks would be louder and sharper, they don’t necessarily purr per se; they make little clicking and almost scratched up sounds. It’s a noise difficult to describe, something so inherently alien that you would have to hear it firsthand to really understand it - and even then you might not.

Purple

• For the purples i’m actually not 100% sure where they’d land on the mammal-to-bug scale, but their noises would probably be more unique, being in the middle of highbloods and seadwellers

• We know they Honk. like, honking is an actual sound they can make, not just a word they say. though probably both are possible. People have said this before me but i really love the thought of Karako honking with his actual vocal chords, and not literally enunciating the word “honk”

• That would definitely be a very interesting caste trait, and lots of fun possibilities to look into. that’s not why we’re here today tho so i might get into that in another post at some point

• Purples are generally more mammalian than their lower highblood-counterparts, often seen purring around their quadmates. Because of their caste and stature though, it doesn’t quite sound like purring but rather big lion chuffing, almost like a silent roar, vibrating through their bodies. The sound is very deep, almost too deep for the human ear to hear; but if you get close enough you can feel it reverberate through them.

Seadwellers (violet and fuchsia)

• Now fish, as you probably know, are not insects. HOWEVER. They are also definitely not mammals. i mean yes amphibians exist and the universe is a frog so we know that’s a thing but hush. So they are probably the furthest away from mammals, and they don’t posses any mammalian qualities either. It makes sense that they wouldn’t. cause... they’re fish.

• Seadweller noises are interesting, because aquatic beings make very distinct sounds, and they aren’t often heard outside of their aquatic environment. Could they make noises like dolphins? Could they sing like whales? Do they hum to communicate through vibrations in the water? do they make crustacean clicking noises?

The possibilities are endless!

• So i don’t think they’d purr, but some other people have theorized that they make little bubbly sound which is very cute. Also ear-fin flappies when they’re happy. that’s not really a sound though

— — —

so on a scale from mammal-y to insect-y, it goes

Mammalian < olive - lime - burgundy - bronze - mustard - purple - indigo - cerulean > Insect

amphibian < violet - fuchsia > fish

#i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again; I LOVE ALIEN TROLLS😤#troll headcanons #troll biology #friendsim #hiveswap #homestuck #THIS GOT SO LONG OM SORRY #look when i get the opportunity to rant i RANT #literally i held myself back in many areas here because i didn’t want to overwhelm any readers but shfjdhdhh #it really do be like that huh #i lov;;;; alien sounds;; troll purring; ah #i want to lay on a purring trolls chest and kiss their cheek to hear them chirp in surprise #is that too much to ask #jenny rambles #anon

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